Danni_Lea



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  1. Public Bookmark 37

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    “Don’t give me that shit, Robby. Not to me.” Robby grit his teeth and looked to the side.

    “Oh, so what? Why do I have to explain myself to you? You get this, you—” Robby sighed. “You’d think you might appreciate some gallows humor, after everything.”

    “And you think if you keep joking about it I’m not going to act like it’s real,” Jack said. “But I know gallows and I know humor and I know what I’m seeing right now. Don’t give me shit, Robby.”

    As the day shift winds down from the events of the Fourth, Jack notices an increasing pattern of disturbing behavior from Robby. He's well acquainted with the signs; too well acquainted. Something is wrong. And Jack is not losing Robby.

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    11 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “I need someone like you—someone who can keep up with him, and have his back, and maybe eventually even rein him in, should that be a thing that is humanly possible to do,” said Bobby, smiling warmly over the remaining half of his sandwich.

    “Oh, I see,” said Eddie. And he did now. That’s what Bobby’s whole hard sell was about—it wasn’t personal, it was about Eddie being the top of this class. “I know the type. You see guys a lot like that in the military.”

    “Oh, no,” said Bobby, “I didn’t mean to—well, what I mean is, I don’t think you have seen a lot of guys like Buck, to be honest. I don’t think there are a lot of people like him.”

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    Hen & Chim discussing the new probie; Buck's forgotten shield ceremony; Eddie's first shift with the 118.

    Or: three early impressions of Buck, through the eyes of his future found family.

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    11 Mar 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    About a week after starting back at the 118, and about three weeks before he was supposed to start getting a steady check again, Buck quietly moved out of his loft—

    —and into his jeep.

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    11 Mar 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Adriana doesn’t tell their parents that she’s going to LA. She doesn’t tell Eddie, either—or ask, for that matter.

    She does ask Chris, and he thinks it’s a good idea—says as much, on the phone, and doesn’t say much else.

    “Buck will probably be hovering,” is what Chris does volunteer.

    It still surprises her when the man who opens the door is not Eddie. It’s—Captain America, is the thing that actually comes to mind—a man close to a foot taller than she is, if not more than that, with blond curls and broad shoulders, and he’s got a question in his very blue eyes that’s probably less friendly than the one he actually asks her.

    “Uh,” he says. “Can I help you?”

    Or: Adriana arrives in LA. Maddie has been here the whole time.

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    11 Mar 2026

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    “How did you get home from the hospital?”

    “Took an uber.”

    “Does Maddie know?” Silence. “Does anyone?” More silence. More of Buck refusing to meet his gaze, staring at the door like he thought he could entice Eddie to leave by the power of suggestion. Well, good fucking luck, Eddie thought. Wild horses, and all that. “Why didn’t you call anyone?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you call me?”

    “I did!” Buck snarled. The momentum of his indignation carried him into a sitting position, and Eddie could see him flinch with the pain of it. His unnaturally stoic front was gone, and something raw and wrenching took its place; it occurred to Eddie that he’d never heard Buck raise his voice before. “I did call you, Eddie! As I was bleeding out on my kitchen floor. You. Didn’t. Answer.”

    ---

    The squatter in Buck's attic has a knife. Buck has a bit of a breakdown. Eddie has a plan to make everything right.

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    10 Mar 2026