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It’s hard for Buck to pinpoint the exact moment his family became strangers. Part of him thinks it happened it stages. It started with him being stuck in a hospital bed, then being kept from work and finally the lawsuit. At some point during the mess that the last year had become, Buck lost what was most important to him. The 118 were the only thing he had; the only thing that made his life worth living. Making it through the days now was a struggle. He felt like he didn’t know who he was anymore and the atmosphere at work didn’t make it any easier. As soon as he was in his colleagues’ earshot, the talking stopped and an uncomfortable silence (usually accompanied by some painful glares) descended on all present firefighters. It took everything he had not to cry every time he walked through the doors of the 118. They no longer called him ‘Buck’ or ‘Buckaroo’, now he was ‘Buckley’ or ‘Traitor’. The man he used to be was long forgotten and the person he had become wasn’t worth a damn thing to the people he loved.
Mealtimes used to be one of his favourite parts of working at firehouse 118. Their family dinners made the hardest days feel less heavy. The playful banter and well-cooked food were always enough to bring him out of whatever darkness he was stuck in. But he wasn’t allowed at those meals anymore. He was a pariah, a loner. The few times he’d attempted to join them at dinner had been met with cold shoulders and some people not so subtly leaving the table the moment he sat down. Usually, when his shift ended earlier than the others’, Buck would hang around and stay for whatever meal Bobby was cooking. Recently however, he would be straight out of the door the second his shift ended. Captain Nash didn’t want him around so what was the point in staying any longer than necessary.
Given that he wasn’t fed at the station anymore, Buck had developed a new routine of stopping at the grocery store after every shift. He’d pick up some healthy snacks and a microwave meal, not having the energy physically or mentally to actually cook something. His basket was always stocked with the same boring stuff, and the most important part of his dinner, a bottle of whatever liquor was cheapest. The girl at the register, ‘Amy’ according to her nametag, knew him by name now, no longer needing to ID him every time he purchased alcohol. He was pretty sure she was the only friend he had right now which just depressed him more, after all she was just someone who scanned his shopping. Their conversations never went much further than asking how the other was and a repetitive one-word response. On this particular day, he didn’t get his checkout discussion with Amy. She didn’t appear to be working and in her place was a young man who clearly would rather be anywhere else. Buck could definitely relate to that feeling. Not wanting to force the obviously bored and slightly obnoxious kid into a meaningless conversation, Evan checked out in silence, handing over his ID when asked. He was so focused on packing the shopping and paying quickly, he didn’t notice that he hadn’t put his ID back in wallet properly. As he strode across the parking lot, his ID fell out of its slot and landed on the gravel. Buck never even realised and proceeded on home.
The alarms sounded at the 118, and Bobby, Hen, Chimney, Eddie and the others jumped into action. Dispatch informed them that they were attending a crash in a grocery store parking lot, and that the officer on scene had declared the pedestrian involved dead on arrival. This evidently wasn’t just a spat about a parking spot gone awry.
Hopping out of the truck, the four firefighters quickly made their way towards the driver of the car. They needed to focus on the living, the man who had been hit had been covered up by the cops when they first arrived.
“I didn’t see him. I swear. Oh my god! I killed him!”
“Ma’am you need to calm down”, Eddie said in his best comforting voice. The woman was hyperventilating, and Hen and Chimney couldn’t properly assess her injuries until she relaxed a little. In the meantime, Bobby was checking out the damage to the car, so invested in looking for potential gas leaks, he didn’t notice his wife arriving on scene.
Athena hated calls like this, the kind where someone was killed instantly and likely on accident. According to a witness the victim had been picking something up from the floor, making himself virtually invisible to the car that approached. The poor driver had no idea he was there, there was nothing she could have done, still she would have to live with the guilt despite her innocence.
“Do we have an ID yet?” Athena question one of the officers.
“No. He was hit head on, his face is damaged to the point of being completely unrecognisable. We haven’t checked for ID yet.” Sergeant Grant nodded solemnly as she made her way over the victim, crouching down beside the white sheet. As she pulled it back, she felt her stomach roll. The officer wasn’t being over dramatic when he spoke of the victim’s injuries. Even the ill-fated man’s family wouldn’t be able to recognise him if they tried, she just hoped he had some form of ID on him. She patted down his pockets, coming up empty. Then she noticed a card under his arm, he must have been bending down to pick up his ID when the accident occurred. Carefully and gently, she reached for the card. The moment she turned it over a broken scream escaped her mouth.
The entire parking lot went silent, every first responder turning towards the scream. Bobby was the first to move, running to his wife’s side as fast as he could, the 118 following on instinct. Athena was now openly sobbing, clutching the card in her hand as though she could will it to be someone else’s.
“Athena… What is it?” Her heart was broken, but she knew it would be nothing in comparison to how this would affect Bobby. The fire captain saw Evan Buckley as a son. He’d already lost two kids and he’d just lost another, though he didn’t know it yet. Cautiously, she slid the ID into her husband’s hands, unable to stop her fingers from trembling as she let it go. Bobby looked to her in confusion, why was she handing him the victim’s ID?
When his eyes skimmed the card in his hands, Bobby’s blood went cold. It felt as though his heart had stopped beating.
“No, no, no. Buck, no!” The words that left his mouth were barely understandable. Tremors took over him as he leant over the body on the floor. One by one, the 118 got a glimpse of the ID, each feeling their souls shatter as the reality hit them. Evan Buckley was gone.
Returning to the station was incredibly hard. No one wanted to get out of the truck, everywhere they looked they would be reminded of the man who died thinking they hated him. Captain Nash wasn’t sure he who hated most right now, himself or God. He just hoped that wherever Buck was now, he was happy and safe. Reminding himself to breathe, he tried to remember where the nearest AA meeting was. All he wanted was to drink, to forget.
Hen was struggling to recall the last conversation she’d had with Buck, desperately searching her memories for the last time she told him she loved him.
Chimney was worrying about how he was supposed to tell Maddie, she was heavily pregnant and the emotional distress of losing her brother could put both her and the baby at risk.
Eddie’s mind was blank, it was like Shannon all over again. He was trying as hard as possible to block out the grief. The news would devastate Christopher, how on earth was he going to tell him?
None of them expected to be greeted by an emotional Maddie Buckley as they disembarked truck 118. She was sat on the stairs, Josh holding her tightly as tears silently escaped her haunted eyes. Word of Evan Buckley’s death had already made its way to the 911 call centre. Chimney ran to her, taking her from Josh’s arms, crying along with her. Nothing was ever going to be the same.
Across town, Athena was already going over funeral arrangements in her head, knowing no one else would have the strength to do it. She was sat in the morgue, waiting on the Medical Examiner, wanting a full report on Evan’s death.
“Sergeant, you said you found an ID on the body, correct?”
“Uhm, yes. Evan Buckley.” The look on the examiner’s face was unnerving.
“The fingerprints don’t match.”
“WHAT!” Athena felt her heart start to race, she could hear the rapid beating in her ears. It took every bit of strength she had not to collapse in that moment.
“Evan Buckley’s fingerprints are in our system, but they don’t match the body from the accident. Sergeant Grant, do you know if Mr Buckley had any tattoos? Anything on his body we could use to clarify the victim’s identity?”
“He had a couple of tattoos.” She racked her brain, trying to clear the emotional trauma in search of clear memories of Buck’s many tattoos.
“He had two bands on his forearm… some writing on the other forearm… I know he had more I’m just not sure what they were.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Athena couldn’t sit down after that. Part of her wanted not to get her hopes up, maybe the M.E. is just being cautious. The system glitches sometimes, she knows that well as a cop. She tried to tell herself not to feel relief just yet. There was still a possibility the body on the other side of the door belonged to the man she saw as a son.
It felt like hours she spent pacing back and forth in the empty hallway. In reality it was less than a minute.
“Sergeant, the victim only has one tattoo. A small anchor on his wrist. There are none on his forearms. The ID you found on scene can’t have belonged to him. It’s not Mr Buckley.”
When Athena’s police cruiser came speeding into the 118, sirens blaring, the firefighters didn’t even flinch. They were all still sat at the foot of the stairs holding each other as they mourned their fallen friend.
She barely had the car in park before she leapt from the vehicle and began yelling.
“It wasn’t him! It wasn’t Buck!”
No one moved. They were all in complete and utter shock. Maddie was the first to speak.
“He’s… he’s still alive… Buck’s alive?”
“The DOA’s fingerprints didn’t match Buck’s.” Ever the pessimist, Bobby was quick to stop his team from getting too comfortable with the new information.
“That doesn’t mean anything. You told me before that the system doesn’t always get it right!”
“I know, but unless Buck suddenly decided to have all his tattoos removed, the victim wasn’t him.”
Teardrops of grief became cries of overwhelming joy. They all still had a chance to fix things, to mend the broken relationship they had with Evan Buckley. For once, life seemed to be on the 118’s side. Without hesitating, the firefighters hopped into the truck.
With sirens on and lights flashing, Athena, accompanied by Maddie, sped over to Buck’s apartment, followed by the 118. Once again, the sergeant was out of the car impressively fast the second she pulled up outside the apartment building. Not waiting for the 118 to catch up, Athena and Maddie ran through the front doors, taking the stairs up to Evan’s apartment. Maddie didn’t bother knocking on the door, choosing instead to use her spare key to let herself in.
“Buck? You here?” she yelled into the darkness. Eyes scanning the shadows for her brother.
Athena flipped the light switch, suddenly confronted by a saddening sight. The usually well-kept apartment was a mess, takeout containers littered across the countertops and empty bottles scattered around the floor. For the second time that night, Athena’s heart broke. As she made her way further into the mess, she found the man she was looking for, passed out on the sofa clutching an almost empty bottle of tequila.
“Oh Buckaroo,” she whispered as she fell to her knees beside the broken boy. In a loving and gentle manner, she ran her fingers through his hair, watching his chest as his lungs inflated over and over again. He was alive.
The 118 and Maddie stood to the side, watching Athena have a moment with Buck. It was a beautiful picture, especially considering the rocky start the two had with one another. She placed a kiss to his head and gently woke him.
“Buck, sweetheart. Wake up.”
Abruptly, Buck was sat upright, gasping for breath, choking on the air. Tears filled his eyes and panic inhabited his body. Between his uneven breaths, words fell from his mouth, barely audible but somehow echoing through everyone else’s bones.
“Chris… I need to find him... I lost him… Sorry… Christopher…” Everyone was crying now, slowly making their way to Buck’s side, all trying their best to ground him from his tsunami related nightmare.
“It was a just a dream Buck. You’re okay.”
“Athena?” Finally, Evan made eye contact with the woman whose arms he was currently buried in. Athena let out a sigh of relief when she looked into his baby blue eyes, noting how the usual spark was missing.
“Hey, Buckaroo.”
“What are you doing here.” The more aware of his surroundings, the more tense and withdrawn Buck became. It was clear he was uncomfortable with showing weakness in front of his colleagues.
Maddie placed a soft hand on his cheek, feeling herself relax at the warmth from his body.
“Buck, we thought you were dead. There was an accident at the grocery store near the firehouse. The victim had your ID on them. We thought it was you. It thought I lost you.”
All of a sudden, the tables turned. Buck was now comforting his sister, rocking her through her tears, whispering reminders in her ear.
“I’m here Mads, I’m not going anywhere.”
The sibling’s hug lasted only a few seconds before they were joined by the others. For the first time in months, buck felt loved.
Once the tears slowed, Bobby placed himself on the coffee table in front of Evan, lightly grasping the boy’s shaking hands.
“I messed up, Buck. I know we have a lot we need to talk about, a lot I need to apologise for, but we can do all that another time. Right now, I need you to know that I love you. We all do. Buck, you mean the world to us and we really let you down. You’ve always been there when we’ve needed you, but we failed to do the same. I promise you; we are here now and we’re not going anywhere.”
Buck nodded timidly, looking around the room gratefully before choosing his next words.
“Do you remember, after the plane crash, when me and Hen came over to your apartment?”
“I remember it. You told me that maybe I should ask for help sometimes.”
“Help.”
If it was possible to run out of tears, every single person in the apartment would’ve been completely empty when Evan said that single word. They were all sobbing again, no one quite sure if it was from guilt, exhaustion or relief. But things were going o get better, they were going to make sure of it. Evan Buckley was never going to feel alone again. They were his family, after all.