Chapter Text
Buck liked Tommy’s car.
He kind of loved riding shotgun in it. A lot. It was this teal, older car – maybe made in the seventies or something. Buck was pretty sure Tommy said it was an El Camino. And maybe Buck should know the car his boyfriend had, but between Muay Thai lessons and flying lessons, well, Buck hadn’t gotten Tommy to teach him cars.
One of these days, Buck was going to brush up on cars.
But not today.
He did find the car nice, though. Tommy’s seats were surprisingly comfy. There was something relaxing about not being at the wheel. He knew Tommy liked being in control of whatever vehicle he was driving and looked good doing so.
There were whole afternoons and mornings where Tommy and Buck would go out in the car and Buck would just put on some music and watch Tommy drive; to talk to Tommy until Tommy was smiling and laughing and a little drunk on the conversation.
And yeah, Buck could talk for hours if someone let him; he could go on and on about how lemons are a hybrid fruit or the history of the ballpoint pen. And he loved that, it was kind of wild how much Tommy would let him talk and just be interested; to ask questions when he wanted to; to let Buck just keep going. He loved that, but he loved it more when Tommy opened up and talked about himself.
Tommy rarely talked about himself.
That was okay.
Buck knew that Tommy had a lot of walls; that a lot of things had happened to his man; that the world could be terrible and Tommy knew that vividly. And it was beautiful whenever he let Buck peek behind those curtains; whenever Tommy allowed a piece of himself to be known to Buck. Rarely, were those pieces given to anyone. And more times than not, what Buck heard told Buck more about how bleak Tommy’s life used to be.
But he still loved the pieces.
He loved the man who the pieces were part of.
He wanted to know everything.
And, sometimes, very rarely so, the knowledge was something wonderful; something Tommy used to do when he was bored as a child, or the books he used to read over and over again in the corner of his local library, or that he used to haggle for snacks at a corner store in his hometown.
Buck was happy with this too. With watching Tommy drive. He always seemed so relaxed when he was behind the controls of something; like it was second nature. Tommy was an attractively capable man and Buck kind of loved that about Tommy. Maybe he loved it a lot.
Buck couldn’t stop smiling at Tommy.
Tommy was just.
Hot.
And nice.
And he showed up. Always.
Fuck.
Buck loved this guy.
“What?” asked Tommy, and there was a hint of a smile there.
“Nothing. I just like you driving me,” said Buck.
And Buck could see that Tommy couldn’t help it, he smiled too; not quite the scrunchy kind, but that dimpled one he did.
The morning was young.
Buck could get his man to that scrunch nose smile.
“Oh, you like a chauffeur?” asked Tommy playfully.
“Only one as hot as you.”
And there was the scrunch.
“I only drive the hottest myself.”
Buck snickered.
“You sure you don’t want to accidentally find yourself in Harbor Station instead of the 118 for this wildfire?” asked Tommy, “Nice views. Get to ride in a chopper while fighting the fire.”
Buck knew it really wasn’t an option. They both knew it. But it was a nice musing; the thought of escaping the environment Gerrard had already created with only a few weeks under his belt.
But Buck didn’t run.
“I’ll get a great view of you from the ground,” said Buck as he placed his hand over Tommy’s on the stick shift, “You know, I fought a wildfire once?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Up in Texas. Though, I looked it up later and there are no forests in the area I was supposedly in in Texas. Or mountains? I’m actually not sure if I was in Texas, but also why would they lie about where I was?”
“Are there mountains in Texas? Also, is that where you met Marjan?”
“Yeah! It is,” said Buck excitedly, “We need to visit Austin at some point. You should meet her in person. You know, this guy – TK. He thought I was hitting on him during the fire, and looking back, I think I was? Life’s so weird like that. Got to take him and his boyfriend out for drinks with you or – I think he’s married to his boyfriend now? Anyway, not many mountains in Texas and they’re like in – I don’t know, in Big Bend maybe? And supposedly we were in the area of the Chihuahua desert and there’s like a plateau over there but I didn’t see a plateau and my brain hurts whenever I think about it too hard but anyway, yeah, I’ve fought a wildfire before. Just. Not in California. That’s a little weird, right?”
The car slowed to a stop at a red light. And in the easy light of an early morning, Tommy’s look at Buck was haunting; not in the terrifying way, no, but this – this awe-inspiring beauty sort of way.
Buck, in one of the few classes he had actually attended in community college, had learned about the difference between beauty and the sublime.
Flowers were beautiful; delicate and elegant and wafting in a breeze. It drew you in aesthetically. There was a pleasure to its viewing that was manageable to the human condition. It was an adornment to the world; an accent emphasized by the eye.
Mountains were sublime; they were forces of nature; imposing and staggering in their existence; dissonance that captivated with a compelling force barely comprehended. For could a human fully grasp a mountain? Could a mere mortal stare at the labor of millions of years shaped before them and not find the noble, terrible, mystifying creation before them to be almost too much?
There, in Tommy, lay both for Buck.
The softness of the light accented edges that had to have been much sharper when he was younger; there was a fragile grace to the short eyelashes that framed his vibrant blue eyes; there was something charming about the dimples that grew bigger the more he smiled.
He was beauty.
But Buck’s own feelings for the man felt like the sublime.
Heart stuttering off as if Buck developed an arrhythmia.
This overwhelming, inescapable, reeling flood of emotions that punched Buck in the gut before drowning him in this novel, terrifying yet enthralling inability to look away; to always want to reach out for him. Even before Buck knew what this feeling was, he was unable to stop himself – he had reached out for Tommy right after the helicopter rescue was over. As if to see if he was real.
As if to see if he was dreaming.
Because what kind of person sent waves of thoughts and feelings at Buck every time Buck saw him like Buck was getting struck by lightning again but wanted it?
And Buck wasn’t sure what Tommy felt when he saw Buck – maybe the same. It felt like it was close. Buck knew Tommy loved him for months now.
Still, Buck could never shake off that feeling; like a train crashed into him every time he looked at Tommy. Buck wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to shake off that feeling. Buck was wrecked by this man and he wanted more somehow.
“Well, you’re fighting one now,” Tommy said softly as he drove on the green light, and right, they were talking about wildfires, “Be careful. Stick with your team – with the people you trust on your team. Gerrard won’t save you. When the chips are down, he’d rather leave someone weak to die than put in the effort to save them. And know I’ll be up there watching you.”
Buck knew Tommy wouldn’t really be watching; Tommy was working an air ambulance during this wildfire. He would be too busy. But Buck liked the idea, all the same.
“Every time I see a helicopter, I’ll send you a pic and ask if it’s you,” said Buck, grinning.
Tommy snickered.
“If it helps, I’ll probably be in one of the red ones.”
“Good to know.”
It actually did help. Knowing that his boyfriend was up in the air? Away from most of the danger? Not to say that Tommy couldn’t handle himself, he definitely could, but Buck liked the thought of Tommy in a safer place.
“You’ve got this,” said Tommy like he could always encourage Buck; like it wasn’t annoying or some burden.
Tommy was certain.
Tommy was always certain with Buck. Buck didn’t know how Tommy had so much confidence in Buck sometimes. Buck felt like he was messing up half the time he was with Tommy, yet Tommy was somehow still there.
Dating Buck.
It was always a nice confidence boost when Tommy said something like that, though.
“I know I do,” said Buck, because at least he had some experience with wildfires, “I just hope Gerrard doesn’t make a bad call. Again.”
Buck wasn’t sure how Gerrard was able to get to his position other than failing upwards. The man was negligent at best and downright dangerous at worst.
Buck didn’t know how good he had it with Bobby and Hen.
He really hadn’t.
Tommy parallel-parked the car on the side of the street about a block away from the station. Buck hated that. He understood why, but he hated it all the same. Buck didn’t know what to do about it. He wanted his boyfriend to drop him off. But he understood all the reasons why that was a bad idea.
“Tommy,” Buck tried again, because he had to, “Come on. You can drive me the whole way if you want.”
Buck knew Tommy liked dropping him off too. But all the same, Tommy shook his head. Some of that well-trained calm demeanor slipped.
Tommy was a chill guy. He went with the flow. He was willing to match Buck’s pace, his tone – he was good at that. He usually seemed pretty happy with himself.
But this?
This was peeling back layers to an older self.
Not quite the person Tommy was when he was under Gerrard’s wing, but someone who remembered what it was like; someone stuck in survival mode.
One of the many reasons to fucking hate Vincent Gerrard.
“No, it’ll be worse,” said Tommy neutrally, as if he had run a simulation of it in his head; as if he was assessing a call and making his split-second decision on how best to approach it right then and there, “I – I can’t do that to you.”
It hurt.
Because Buck knew Tommy was right.
Tommy coming to work would basically set a target on Buck’s back for punching bag of the week and Buck knew it.
But.
He hated how his boyfriend felt most of all. Tommy was putting up precautions now. He never did that before. He had gone by Buck’s pace before, but now it felt like any public affection near the 118 might break him, genuinely break his boyfriend. His big beefy boyfriend was glass to Gerrard and Buck was sure Gerrard knew that.
Another reason to hate Gerrard.
Buck placed a hand on Tommy’s cheek. Tommy leaned into it, smiling at Buck.
Sublime.
And beauty.
All wrapped into one impossibly patient package.
“Okay,” said Buck quietly, because he really did understand, “I’ll see you at the fire?”
“I hope not. That’ll mean I’m lifting you out of danger.”
Buck snorted.
“Can’t have me in danger.”
“Oh no. Never. What was your job again?”
Buck snickered.
“Stay safe,” said Buck, “I know it’s safer up there – but still.”
“I know. Stay safe yourself.”
Tommy leaned over and it was still a marvel.
Mesmerizing.
That Tommy could catch him off guard like this.
That he could steal Buck’s breath away with a mere kiss.
“I love you, Evan.”
“Love you too,” breathed Buck, feeling the adrenaline from the words because it was still so new to say it back.
It was addicting to say I love you. How weird was that? Who would have known? Why hadn’t anyone told Buck sooner that it could be like this?
Buck couldn’t stop staring at Tommy’s lips.
Could Buck steal another kiss?
“This is the part when you leave the car,” Tommy reminded Buck dryly, still smiling.
Buck quickly stole one more kiss.
“See you after the fire,” Buck said before stumbling out of the car.
Buck could see Tommy’s smile – that scrunchy one – and he knew he did right. Buck walked the block to the 118, and it just – it felt different with Gerrard running it.
Colder.
The air was thick with tension.
Because apparently some of the people who stayed after Gerrard left? Were actually very happy for his return. It was a little disgusting to see some people Buck had worked with for years, who congratulated Buck on his boyfriend, joining Gerrard’s boy’s club with ease; looking happy to do so.
“Didn’t see your car out there, Buckley. Were you flown in?”
Buck took a deep breath before facing Gerrard. He was, again, making that obnoxious wing gesture he thought was so funny; that his yes men apparently thought was funny too, based on the laughter nearby.
Great.
Just how Buck wanted to start his morning.
Homophobia.
“Yeah, I was. In the arms of a beautiful angel,” said Buck with a smile.
“Sure that was an angel or something else?”
Fairy.
Well, the ball was in Buck’s court now. Buck merely sighed before asking, “Are we done with the daily quota of high school bullying or…?”
Maybe it was because Buck wasn’t exactly giving Gerrard the reaction he wanted. Maybe it was because there was a wildfire they needed to get to. Gerrard rolled his eyes and flippantly said, “Get dressed. And mark yourself for insubordination. Hope you like digging lines.”
Buck hated digging lines.
“Digging lines is actually an important part of fighting forest fires, so I’d be honored,” said Buck as he went through the rolodex of helpful to the point of annoyance things he could do if made to dig lines; Buck began making a beeline to the closest available clipboard, “I could organize schedules of the line digging for you. I read a great article on line formation, efficiency, and placement a month back and that could make things better. I could create diagrams and send them out, talk to other people in charge of line digging to coordinate efforts – ”
Gerrard did his best not to look like he was fast walking as he got in between Buck and the clipboard.
“No,” said Gerrard a little sharply before controlling his dismissive tone, “No clipboard for you, Buckley. No fucking clipboards for you.”
Gerrard had made the grave mistake early on in his captaincy of leaving Buck behind once as a punishment. Not only had Buck reorganized and cleaned the entire place, Buck had color-coded an entirely new, more efficient system of filing equipment still being used to this day. Buck had also compiled a detailed list of violations in health and safety codes that he sent to the department, forcing Gerrard to fix the issues.
Suffice to say, Gerrard never did that again.
Buck smiled.
“That language is against the code of conduct, sir.”
Gerrard also didn’t like the fact that Buck, in his contempt of Gerrard and his own love of memorizing and organizing, had most of the LAFD rulebook and code of conduct memorized, if not all of it.
“Just get dressed,” seethed Gerrard, stomping back to his office.
Buck knew he would pay for that in the field. Gerrard would be slow to help him if there was a problem for Buck; he might dismiss Buck’s ideas outright entirely.
But Buck could handle that.
He had been handling it for weeks now.
Buck made his way to the locker room, annoyed at how Gerrard had “reorganized” the lockers. For some reason, Buck, Hen, Ravi, Chimney, and Eddie were pushed into a corner, surrounded by everyone else.
It felt strangely vulnerable in a way that Buck hadn’t anticipated when he had first learned the news. And the feeling had ebbed and flowed as the weeks went on; as people on their team that Buck thought were friendly started to stare at them; to single them out; to say some pretty shitty stuff in earshot only to call it a “joke” later.
When Gerrard was out of their station, Buck was going to reclaim his fucking locker.
But for now, Buck wandered through the sea of firefighters anxiously preparing for the fire ahead to his people – to the corner squad.
“Karen will pick Jee and Mara up from the Lees later,” Hen said as she closed her locker, staring down at her phone, “Yeah, she can do it. She’ll watch them with Denny at your house until Maddie’s off shift. Karen’s working from home today. It won’t be a problem.”
“Tell Karen thanks,” said Chimney as he finished putting a shirt on, “She’s really a lifesaver.”
“We’re here for you like you’re here for us,” said Hen, her voice a little – a little more emotional than Buck was used to hearing it as she asked, “Is Mara sleeping any better?”
Buck still couldn’t believe a councilwoman could get away with such an abuse of power as stopping a kid from getting adopted into a good family. It hurt to see Hen like this; to see her unable to really have her kid in her own home. Buck was glad that Mara was with Chim and Maddie, they all loved the kid, but it sucked that she wasn’t actually with Karen and Hen.
“A little?” said Chimney hesitantly, “It’s still a transition, but she’s been really good with Jee. Jee keeps calling Mara her big sister.”
Hen melted at that.
“Oh, that’s adorable,” said Hen.
“They made a pillow fort last night,” said Chimney with a smile.
Hen lit up at that, though, it was bittersweet. Missing those soft moments with her own kid because some asshole had a vendetta.
Another reason to hate Councilwoman Ortiz.
“What?” exclaimed Hen, “Can I see a picture?”
“Totally. I took a million,” said Chimney as he scrolled through his phone with Hen, “I’ll send them to Karen too.”
Buck placed his bag down next to Eddie as he began opening his locker. Eddie looked… despondent.
“Hey, Eddie,” Buck said, trying for a kind tone, “How’s it going?”
Buck knew it wasn’t going well. But he still had to ask. Eddie didn’t even look Buck in the eyes. He stared at nothing, feeling… empty. Eddie laughed bitterly.
“How’s it going? It’s Father’s Day Weekend. It’s Father’s Day Weekend and my son is in El Paso and I’m stuck here fighting a goddamn fire,” said Eddie as he stood up, frustrated, “So, let’s fight a goddamn fire.”
He stormed out of the locker room, leaving an air of awkward silence in his wake.
Eddie.
Eddie hadn’t been good these last few weeks. He hadn’t been great before, but this felt as if Eddie needed to hit some sort of rock bottom before crawling back out and working on himself in order to get Christopher back, and Eddie hadn’t quite reached that rock bottom yet somehow.
It hurt.
Seeing his best friend this way.
It didn’t help that whenever Christopher called Buck, he would try to find a workaround to ask about his dad without asking about his dad. And Buck tried to spin it for Chris, but he could tell that Chris knew it wasn’t great – Chris was thirteen, of course he could tell.
Buck didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t really anything he could do. No one could help Eddie until Eddie wanted to help himself.
But Buck would be there for him.
He would be waiting for that moment to come for as long as Eddie took.
Eddie fucked up. He really had. And Buck wasn’t sure if he was okay with anything that Eddie had done. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to be okay with it. But Buck was also not directly involved in the problem. And he loved his best friend despite the dark spiral that had brought Eddie to some messed up choices.
Buck just hoped Eddie started to work on himself sooner rather than later, for Christopher’s sake.
Ravi strode into the locker room, angrily throwing a cloth before sitting down next to his locker on a bench and groaning into his hands.
“What’s wrong, Ravi?” asked Buck, ready to move at a moment’s notice depending on what had happened.
Buck had realized that when people had the opportunity to be shitty with no repercussions, they gleefully took it. Buck hoped a good chunk of these asshats transferred after Gerrard eventually gets booted out.
Eventually.
“He keeps doing the dirty boots thing just as I finish,” said Ravi, sounding tired, “I’m fucking Sisyphus and the boulder is rolling down the mountain. Now, all those assholes are doing it – you know the ones.”
Buck nodded.
“Yeah, I – I really do,” said Buck as he got out of his civvies and into his uniform.
Buck smiled as he heard the ding from his phone.
“What?” said one of the many people Buck thought was normal before Gerrard took over, “A text from your boyfriend?”
And that hurt.
It hurt because Buck knew that they meant it like Buck should be ashamed. He knew they wanted him to feel awkward and weird and bad about the idea. And, okay, it did get to Buck a bit; how could it not?
No one could feel confident all the time.
But he closed his eyes.
He thought about Tommy’s smile; the way his nose scrunched. He thought about that devastating feeling every time he saw Tommy; the way Tommy said Evan.
Like it wasn’t just Buck who mattered, it was Evan.
Buck held that feeling as he stared the asshole dead in the eyes and said, “A text from Daddy? For me? Oh, I hope so.”
That threw those assholes off their game, mumbling under their breath that Buck didn’t used to be like this; like Buck hadn’t always been a little kinky. The difference was who he was dating.
Buck checked his texts on his phone.
TOMMY: N951AL
TOMMY: In case you wanted to play eye spy today
Buck smiled at that.
BUCK: I’ll make sure to keep a lookout for N951AL
Buck sent a series of emojis, which, probably made no sense, but Buck didn’t care. He knew it made Tommy smile.
N951AL.
Buck memorized the number of the air ambulance before putting his phone away and heading out to the firetruck.
*****
Buck could feel the heat of it. Even from this distance, it was a sweltering hotness that was already making Buck sweat.
It was a maelstrom of malcontent made by an uncaring force of nature.
It was tongues of flames as large as buildings licking the sky.
Buck forgot how this felt.
This was sublime too, in a way.
The horror of it; the unfathomable destruction of a burn like this sweeping across the landscape. Not just one, but several mountains were on fire. The sky was dark; an orange to crimson dark grey smoke making the morning look like night. The earth was lit up, a blaze too bright to quite look straight at it without seeing spots.
Like Buck’s nightmares transformed into a Hieronymus Bosch painting.
All the more reason to be on his a-game for this.
“Sheep Mountain Wilderness Fire,” grumbled Gerrard as they made their way to the command center, “What a fucking mouthful.”
“Well, a wildfire is named after the place it's burning. It makes sense since this is the Sheep Mountain Wilderness. They almost named it Big Iron Fire, but the fire had spread so quickly to a few other mountains in the area, as you can see, so – ”
“No one asked for your opinions, Buckley.”
Not opinions.
Facts.
Fun facts.
But whatever.
Buck could file the fact away for later; pull it back up when he saw Tommy next.
Buck would text his boyfriend the fun facts about the area; about why miners in the called Big Iron “Sheep Mountain” or how the area itself, Sheep Mountain wilderness, was christened such by Los Angeles National Forest in reference to that old nickname.
But no.
He wasn’t allowed.
Buck got reprimanded if Gerrard even saw his phone out.
Another reason to hate Gerrard.
Buck only got to sneak out his phone when he knew for sure Gerrard wasn’t around. And by that point, Buck needed more than just a text, he needed a phone call. And sometimes, it would just go to messages, and he would leave a thirty-minute infodump on Tommy’s phone. And Tommy was going to run out of space on his phone because Buck was very sure Tommy never deleted the ridiculously long messages Buck gave him.
The command center was almost overcrowded with people. To the random observer, and apparently several of Gerrard’s boy’s club, the place would look unorganized; chaotic. But Buck could see it clearly; the place was a well-oiled machine of complex and flexible response, ready for a change of wind or a shift in the fire.
Gerrard walked them to the main hub in the middle of the tents, where dozens of people talked into radios, standing around sprawling maps of the Sheep Mountain Wilderness with markers for different teams, different parts of the fire, and different levels of priority.
It was inspiring, really.
And for a moment, well, Buck thought about what it would be like; to be the incident commander of an emergency. Not that Buck was sure he wanted that to be his trajectory in life, but it wouldn’t be a bad direction to go.
Buck was organized.
Buck was good in a tough spot.
Buck could think outside of the box to find solutions to immediate problems.
Maybe Buck should look into doing something like this.
In front of the main map, stood Incident Control Commander, Captain Janet Reese, looking less than pleased to see Gerrard.
“Fuck off. I’ve got you to deal with?” asked Captain Reese, clearly unhappy.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” said Gerrard, and Buck could see Reese’s vein in her forehead pop a bit, “We’re all fighting the same fire.”
“Thank you for coming in everyone,” said Captain Reese through gritted teeth, “I am Janet Reese, incident commander for the LAFD for the Sheep Mountain Wilderness Fire. We will be working with CalFire on this operation and taking our cues from them, so if CalFire Division Chief Julie Rosen tells you to jump, you better fucking jump for her, okay?”
There was a chorus of agreement, though, many of the boy’s club seemed a little sarcastic with their responses.
“Your team is going to section 3C,” continued Captain Reese as she pointed to the gridded map, “You’ll be rotating out Captain Mehta and his team. Make an A Team and B Team – one to check the area for any straggling hikers or campers. One to dig lines. Got it? Good. Get out of my face unless it’s absolutely necessary, Vincent.”
And there was a moment where Evan’s eyes met Reese’s. Maybe she sensed the apology. She seemed to pity Buck, at least. Buck kind of pitied himself too, if only for dealing with Gerrard – though, at least Buck had people with him.
*****
Digging lines was a monotonous, tiring, repetitive job, but it was also one of the most important jobs during a wildfire. It helped contain fires; it helped curb them; it steered them the right way. Buck understood how vital it was to create these lines. He knew that this was just one of the many parts to play.
It was also a slog.
Digging lines was necessary but it was a fucking slog.
Buck knew he wasn’t going to be in the A Team; he wasn’t going to be in the more active role. He signed up for this when he talked back at Gerrard and talked about the code of conduct.
Or maybe Buck was always going to be there.
He was, after all, in good company – Hen, Chimney, and Eddie were digging too despite all of them having perfectly good medical expertise; Ravi was there as well, but Buck unfortunately was sure Ravi was always bound to be stuck with Buck digging lines. There were others too, probably people who had gotten on Gerrard’s nerves, but none of them seemed to want to go near Buck and his friends – they were radioactive under Gerrard’s regime.
“Buck,” said Hen walking over and getting back to work, “It’s time for you to take your break.”
Hen had taken over when Gerrard, after getting bored from yelling at them all for the first few hours, had walked away a few yards off, using his radio to chat with one of his good ol’ friends who must have been a captain of another firehouse. Buck was grateful. At least someone was acting like a captain and making sure people were taking their breaks.
“Are you sure?” asked Buck as he kept digging, “I can keep going for a little while longer.”
“Take a break, Buck. You’re good,” said Hen, gesturing for Buck to step aside.
This was maybe Buck’s third break? His fourth? Thirty minutes every few hours. And Buck would say it was nearing sunset, but it was hard to tell from the sky. The sky just looked worse as the day went on.
Buck was glad that he at least had the opportunity to check his phone now that Gerrard didn’t have eyes on him. He pulled it out and – nothing.
Which made sense.
Tommy was probably busy.
Air ambulance and all.
Didn’t mean Buck couldn’t leave a message. Buck called Tommy’s phone, and instantly, it went to messages.
“This is Tommy…’s phone. This is Tommy’s phone. Psych. Not here. Leave a message, especially if you’re Evan.”
Buck smiled.
He loved how Tommy said his name.
“Tommy. I, uh. I miss you. I always miss you, is that weird? It’s not like we don’t see each other all the time. I’d talk to you about the history of why this area is called the Sheep Mountain Wilderness, but I have less than thirty minutes and I really do need to eat one of the crappy energy bars. Yes, I ran out of my homemade granola already. Yes, you were right, I should have made more. I know you’re busy – I’m busy and I’m not up in the sky right now. Just wanted to say I love you. Please be safe. Hopefully, we’re both rotated out around the same time so that we can eat some pizza together at command control. I heard they got Domino’s for some reason? I would have gone with something better, like Prince Street Pizza, but you know I’m a bit of a food snob sometimes. I blame Bobby. Anyway. Going to eat that trash energy bar now. You eat too at some point, okay? And drink water. Water’s important. Love you. I’ll send you a pic as soon as I find your air ambulance.”
Buck reluctantly hung up, smiling down at his phone.
His phone screen was a Tommy laughing as he held his neighbor’s cat, Flompers – the biggest, ugliest cat Buck had ever seen.
He kind of loved that cat so much.
He and Tommy really needed to get a cat.
Or a dog?
A dog and a cat?
Maybe start with a dog and work their way up to more?
“Two ‘I love you’s,” said Gerrard, and that sent a cold shiver down Buck’s spine, “That sounds desperate.”
Maybe a year or so ago, Buck would have had more doubts. He would have let that get to him.
But Tommy always smiled so wide when Buck said it. Buck knew Tommy would want whatever, “I love you,” Buck could tell him. It helped that being contrarian out of spite for Gerrard was par for the course of their tit-or-tats.
It was also a little sad that out of all the things Buck said, Gerrard decided that, “I love you,” was the thing to zero in on, not the history of why this area is called the Sheep Mountain Wilderness or something.
“Or maybe I’m just very comfortable with my own feelings?” said Buck with a shrug, “Try it. It’s healthy.”
Buck turned to this man. This sad, angry, petulant man who liked to twist words and minds.
“Soft is what it is. You’ve made Kinard soft.”
Buck laughed at that. Because somehow Buck was at fault for Tommy’s sexuality. Despite Tommy being out for seven years. And Buck being out for, what? Five months? That made sense.
“Interesting hypothesis,” said Buck, not amused.
“He makes you soft too. So much talent wasted.”
Buck didn’t have time for this.
“Thank you for calling me talented,” said Buck as he opened one of his emergency energy bars, “I think I’m going to eat this over near where everyone is digging lines and away from – ”
Buck heard it before he saw it.
The sound of the wind.
The fire.
The eruption of noises as a helicopter above them spiraled out of control, crashing off into the distant woods farther up the mountain.
Buck couldn’t breathe.
He could feel everyone rushing over, watching the new line of smoke crawling up into the sky.
“Captain Gerrard, N951AL crashed down in section 3C. Your team should be closest to the crash site. Request for part of your team to be diverted to check for survivors.”
N951AL.
“Tommy,” breathed Buck, so quietly no one could have heard him, not over the winds and the fire.
“What?” asked Eddie, and – Buck hadn’t noticed Eddie had walked up to him.
And Eddie still looked dead inside, but he seemed a little more alert now.
“Tommy – uh,” Buck whispered to Eddie, doing his best not to panic as he summoned all his calm and turned back to Gerrard, “Uh, Gerrard sir. We’re closest to the crash. As they said. B Team is. How many of us would you like to send?”
Gerrard.
Fucking.
Smirked.
“No.”
“N – no?” asked Buck, confused.
Gerrard sighed, pointing to the area of the crash site as well as the wildfire roaring close by.
“Look at how the fire’s spreading,” said Gerrard, “We wouldn’t be able to get there in time. It’s too much of a risk to even send part of B Team. No.”
No.
He said no.
Hen stepped up.
“We – we might be able to get there in time if it’s a smaller group,” said Hen as she took in the number of people they had on-site, “Maybe five of us? You can still dig lines fast enough if we only divert five. We are the closest team, sir.”
Gerrard liked it even less that Hen spoke up. Buck could see it in Gerrard’s eyes; he was going to double down despite the reasonable request.
“You’re not acting captain here, Wilson,” said Gerrard territorially, “I am. And what’s that phrase? No means no.”
“Seriously?” asked Eddie, and that was maybe the most alive Buck had seen Eddie in weeks; strange how understandable anger could knock a person out of funks, shift gears sometimes, “There are people out there who need our help, and you, what? Want to leave them to die?”
“That’s the job of a captain. Knowing when it’s too dangerous to send people in,” said Gerrard almost smugly, “You wouldn’t understand that, Diaz.”
“We should at least check before calling it,” said Chimney in that measured, level tone he tended to always have now that he was dealing with Gerrard, “The higher-ups want us to check on it too. Maybe – maybe three people can go? Me, Hen, Eddie – we have the proper in-field training to help with any trauma there.”
Buck could live with that.
He wasn’t trained the way they were for medical emergencies. Buck could – Buck would be okay with that. Tommy would be in the best hands; with people Buck trusted.
“No,” said Gerrard, growing tired of them as he said into his radio, “Helicopter is unsalvageable. It’s unwise to send a team.”
“Copy that.”
Copy that.
Oh god.
Tommy was going to die.
Gerrard was going to do it again.
He was going to leave Tommy out there to die again.
For a third fucking time.
Hen stepped up; she stared Vincent Gerrard down.
“I’m going to have to disagree with your assessment, Vincent. They can be saved,” said Hen firmly before she turned to the B Team, “Who else is with me?”
“You know I always got your back,” said Chimney, stepping up.
“Yeah,” said Buck, following suit, “I got your back, Hen.”
“Me too,” said Eddie as he raised his hand, “Who cares, right?”
And after weeks of that emptiness, Eddie finally sounded like himself. Eddie and Buck exchanged weak smiles; some semblance of normalcy back.
Buck, Chimney, Eddie, and Hen laughed at the, “Who cares,” mention.
“Yeah, who cares?” said Hen back, patting Eddie’s arm.
They all turned their gaze to Ravi.
Who.
Did look a little at odds as to whether he was going to join them before… conceding because Ravi was great, even if he was the landlord of three apartment complexes.
“Shit. No. I like Tommy. He’s a good guy. He makes me lasagna,” said Ravi as he stepped up, “Damn it. Yeah. Fuck it, I’m with them. I’m with Team Who Cares.”
Gerrard looked at them and scoffed.
“You all really want to lose your jobs, huh?” said Gerrard, loud and dramatic and making an example out of Team Who Cares 2.0, “Fine. Die out there for all I care, I warned you. Don’t expect to have jobs when you get back.”
The five of them grabbed whatever equipment they could get their hands on, before turning their attention to the direction of the crash site. As they walked through the woods, Ravi spoke up.
“I really just lost my job. I mean. I have the apartments. But I like my job. I like firefighting. Shit,” said Ravi, “No. No. I like Tommy – we are doing this for Tommy. And. The other people in the crash too. I care about strangers.”
Chimney put his arm around Ravi.
“Well, if it helps, last time Team Who Cares acted like cowboys, we got medals,” said Chimney.
“Yeah. I would like a medal,” said Ravi, “I’m owed a medal after living through the drama at this station.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Buck as he patted Ravi’s chest, “Who cares?”
“Why is that your motto again?” asked Ravi.
“Because it is,” said Eddie, “And it kind of works for us?”
“Oh, it definitely works for us,” said Hen with a nod, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this even if we know it’s the right thing to do but, you know – who cares?”
“I – I kind of care, though,” said Buck, just – the emotions catching up to him for a moment, “I mean ra ra, who cares? I coined it, but… Fuck, Tommy’s out there.”
They only generally knew where to find the helicopter.
It did seem darker than before, as if night was creeping up on them.
“And we only have a general direction of where they might be. It’s getting dark. We don’t know the terrain. We’re hiking up a mountain. And – and a fucking wildfire is heading toward the direction of the crash site,” said Buck, his voice embarrassingly cracking halfway through his spiral, “So. Who cares, yeah. But also I kind of care a lot right now? Because my boyfriend’s out there and I just want to find him?”
The whole group stared at him.
Resolute.
“We’re going to find him, Buck,” said Chimney, utterly confident in that.
“We can’t have a who cares team reunion without him,” said Hen matter-of-factly, “It won’t count without him.”
“We got this, Buck. We all got this – we’re going to find him,” said Eddie, focused on the task.
“Yeah. We’ve. Totally got this,” said Ravi, who sounded a little less sure of this.
Buck.
Buck felt the comradery, though.
The family.
His family.
Right here.
Fighting not just to help the victims that were in that crash when Gerrard wouldn’t, but to help Buck save his boyfriend.
“Thanks, guys,” said Buck, quickly wiping away a tear or two before collecting himself, “Yeah. Let’s go find that air ambulance crash.”