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“I’ve got the last victim but I’m trapped.”
The heat is pouring off the building in front of them in waves, tendrils of smoke curling up into the night sky, but eight words through the crackle of radio static are enough to turn Bobby’s blood to ice.
“Buck, repeat your last,” he says into the radio, even as the words echo in his head. He knows he’s clinging to hope that doesn’t exist, but maybe he misheard. Maybe it was just the little voice of worry in the back of his mind rearing its head, the one he hears every time he sends his team in while he stands outside and calls the shots.
“I’ve got the last victim,” Buck says again, his voice louder, “but I’m trapped. I can’t… the way out’s no good, it’s blocked.”
He hadn’t misheard after all.
“What’s your location?” He can see the others from the corner of his eye, the way they’re looking at him, waiting for him to tell them what to do to fix this. Eddie’s taken a step forward from where he’d been leant up against the truck. Chim’s already lifting his mask back up to his face.
“East corner.” Bobby almost doesn’t hear him over the sound of coughing - the victim at Buck’s side, no doubt. “Second level, I think? We were on the third but the walkway… we fell, I don’t know.”
Bobby doesn’t know how the fear in his gut can get any worse, but it does. But his team are looking to him. Buck is depending on him. He doesn’t have the luxury or the time to panic.
“Are you hurt?”
“No, but it’s getting pretty hard to breathe in here, Cap.”
“Copy, Buck. Sit tight for a second while we find you another way out, alright?”
“Sounds good to me.” There’s the edge of a forced laugh in Buck’s voice, an attempt to wave away the ticking clock he and Bobby both know is there, but whether it’s for the victim’s sake, or Bobby’s, or even Buck’s own, Bobby can’t tell.
The moment his hand comes away from the radio the others advance on him. There’s a moment when none of them speaks, giving him the chance to tell them the grand plan he’s formulated, exactly what they’re going to do to get Buck out of this.
But he doesn’t have one. It only takes a moment longer for them to realise.
Hen’s gaze is steady, but he’s known her long enough now to see the flicker of worry in her eyes. “He’s running out of time, Bobby.”
“I can go back in.” Eddie’s shoulders are set. “I’ve got plenty of oxygen left.”
“I was at the east corner, I know the layout, I can get to him.” The fierceness in Chim’s voice shouldn’t surprise him. Buck’s as good as his brother-in-law at this point, most likely will be one day. But he’s so used to Chim defaulting to quick sarcasm that the absence of it unnerves him.
“Did you see anything that could’ve been another exit?” Bobby turns an appraising eye on the building so he won’t have to look at the concern on their faces. “Doors we’ve missed? Windows? Weak spots?”
“The main door’s the best way in and out, Cap.” The way Eddie says it is almost clinical, a military-level focus as he evaluates their options. “Let me go in.”
Bobby’s already searching for the words to tell his team he won’t let them go back in for Buck, can’t risk sending any more of them into danger knowing what Buck’s told him about the state of the building, when the incident commander stops to talk to Athena.
“Nobody goes in without my say-so.” He looks at them each in turn before he starts to walk away. “Get on the radio with Buck. Keep him talking.”
Bobby doesn’t know exactly what he’s going to say until he comes to a stop beside Athena and fixes his full attention on the incident commander in front of them both. “I need another way in.”
“Captain Nash, there is no other way in.” The words are blunt, matter of fact; Bobby tries not to flinch when the full weight of them hits him.
“One of my men is still inside with the last of the victims and they don’t have a way out.” Athena stills, searching out the others from the 118, ticking them off in her mind until she realises who’s missing.
The incident commander exhales slowly.
“Hey, Buck,” the radio clipped to Bobby’s turnout coat crackles to life; it’s Chim’s voice, the gravity from moments before replaced with a lightness that not even Chim can make sound authentic right now. “You’ll get out of there. I mean, you’re not gonna let Albert win the favourite uncle title so easy, are you?”
The silence that follows lasts a beat too long. Bobby’s sure he feels his heart stop in his chest.
“No way.”
“Captain Nash,” the incident commander tries, his voice faltering. “I’m sorry. There’s no other way in. If your man can’t get out…”
Bobby shakes his head before the sentence can find an end. “I’m not leaving one of my men behind.”
“I can’t let you send anyone else in.”
“I’m not sending anyone else in. I’m going in myself.”
Athena’s hand is on his arm. “Bobby-”
“Athena,” he says, trying not to focus on that look in her eyes. It’s all he can do to keep his voice from breaking when he speaks again. “It’s Buck.”
He sees the moment she decides there’s no talking him out of it. He doesn’t think she really wants to talk him out of it.
“Captain Nash.” The incident commander breathes in long and slow as he raises his chin, sets his jaw. “It is my express order that nobody else is to enter this building.”
Bobby nods. “I acknowledge that that’s your order, Commander.”
The others have migrated a few steps closer to the building by the time he gets back to them.
“We have another way in?” Eddie’s reaching for his mask, his eyes darting to the doorway.
“No. The main entrance is our best bet, even if it’s partially blocked.”
“So we go in that way.” Chim’s tucked his helmet under his arm, but now he settles it back on his head. “We can probably clear a path through to him from this side.”
“Stand down, Chim.”
Chim stares at him in disbelief. “You’re just sending Eddie back in?”
“I’m not sending Eddie in either. None of you are going in.”
“We can’t leave him.” Eddie’s always been good at compartmentalising, staying calm under pressure, but his fingers are twitching at his sides, hands curling intermittently into fists. “He wouldn’t leave us.”
Hen’s the first to notice the oxygen tank secured to his back.
“You’re not leaving him,” she says quietly. “You’re going in after him.”
Bobby lifts his mask up to cover his face. “Nobody else goes back in. Chim, you’re my second in command. You’re in charge if…”
Bobby doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t wait for one of the others to, either. He adjusts his oxygen tank, spares them each a final look, and climbs the stone steps into the smoke.
*
Buck’s trying to convince himself he hasn’t given up.
The last victim is sprawled on the floor beside him, wheezing out frantic breaths as the air becomes heavier around them. They’re taking it in turns to share the last of what’s in his tank, a few gasps of pure oxygen each before the other begins to choke on acrid smoke.
The tank’s running low. Buck’s trying not to think about it.
“We’ll be okay,” he says as he passes the mask over again. The man beside him takes it with trembling fingers, presses it desperately to his face.
After everything, this isn’t how Buck thought he’d die. He’s been pinned under a ladder truck, caught up in a tsunami, had a pulmonary embolism at his welcome back party and a tracheotomy on a first date, and after all that, it doesn’t seem right that this is what’s going to get him.
It’ll be the smoke inhalation first. He’ll pass out and he won’t wake up, but at least it’ll be more peaceful than getting caught in the flames.
Buck realises maybe he has given up after all.
“Chim,” Buck switches on his radio, leaning in close when his voice doesn’t quite carry as far as before, “you still there?”
“Yeah, Buck.” The answer comes back almost immediately. “We’re all still here. How’re you guys doing?”
Buck glances at the victim. Andy, his name’s Andy. He’s hunched over, his hand shaking as he holds the mask over his mouth and nose. He’d already been trapped for a while when Buck found him.
“We’re hanging in there,” Buck says, swallowing against the roughness in his throat. “Chim, will you… can you tell Maddie I-”
“I’m not telling Maddie anything. Whatever it is, you can tell her yourself later.”
Buck lets out a slow breath. “Chim-”
“We’re not doing this, Buck.”
Maybe Chim’s got a point. It’s not fair to do this to his friends, to make them listen as he says his goodbyes over the radio. It’ll be easier for them if he doesn’t. Easier for him, too. He won’t have to try and get his thoughts in order when his head already feels so clouded up from the lack of oxygen.
He hopes Maddie forgives him for not being there to meet his niece. He hopes Christopher isn’t too upset when Eddie tells him. He hopes Bobby doesn’t blame himself.
Buck almost misses the clattering sound of his mask falling to the floor.
“Andy?” Buck straightens, reaching forward to press two fingers to the pulse point on Andy’s neck. “You still with me?”
He can’t feel a beat beneath his fingertips.
“Come on, don’t do this.” Buck lies him down on the floor, fumbles for the mask, presses it back over Andy’s face. “Take a breath. Please take a breath.”
He’s done CPR before, plenty of times. Never like this, though, never trapped in a burning building not knowing if it’ll make any difference, if managing to bring the victim back will even mean anything, if they’ll both be dead in minutes anyway. But he has to try. He can give up on himself, sure, but someone else? Not until he’s done everything he can.
He’s not sure how many compressions he manages before his head starts to swim. There’s no rise and fall of Andy’s chest. There’s no thump of a heartbeat beneath his hands.
Buck rocks back on his heels. It takes him a moment to hear the sound of his radio over the ringing in his ears.
“Buck?”
Carefully, Buck lifts the mask from Andy’s face and fits it back onto his own.
“Buck, talk to me, man.”
Buck reaches for his radio. “Eddie?”
“Hey. You went quiet on us.”
Buck leans heavily back against the wall, his shoulders slumping with the exertion. He closes his eyes and tries not to think about how much hotter it is now than it was before.
“Buck?”
“I lost him, Eddie,” he manages.
There’s a pause as Eddie takes in his words, works out their meaning, searches for something to say in reply. “You did your best, Buck. It’s not your fault. You hear me?”
Buck doesn’t have the energy to answer.
“Buck, I know you can hear me. Stay awake. You’re getting out of there.”
Buck opens his eyes. He’s put off reading the little dial for as long as he can, but now there’s no denying it. There’s no cool air coming from his mask anymore.
His tank’s empty.
He almost presses the button on his radio to respond. His finger hovers over it, his tongue fumbling for the words before he remembers he’s already decided he won’t do that. What can he say to them at this point that they don’t already know? He loves them. He’s grateful he had them. He hopes they won’t be sad for too long.
Buck won’t make his family listen to him die. He won’t let that be the first thing they think of when they remember him.
“Buck?”
Part of him wants to unclip the radio from his coat and throw it away so he doesn’t have to listen to the fear in their voices. But he can’t. He can’t cut that last link to them even now.
“Buck?”
He thinks that’s Bobby’s voice. It sounds different now, though. Maybe it’s the smoke getting to him, or maybe the fire is warping his radio or something, because it sounds like Bobby’s calling to him from-
“Buck, hey, hey.”
And Buck knows the smoke must have got to him, because there’s no way he’s seeing what he’s seeing. Bobby, fallen to his knees in front of him, his hands coming up to grip Buck’s shoulders, but… but he can feel Bobby’s fingers digging in as he shakes him a little.
Buck frowns, everything bleary as the smoke makes his eyes water. “Bobby?”
“Come on.” Bobby’s lifting him to his feet, draping one of Buck’s arms around his neck before Buck can fully process what’s going on. “We need to move.”
“I…” Buck stumbles; Bobby tightens his grip as he steers them both back the way he’s come. “Bobby, I lost him. I lost him.”
“You did everything you could, Buck.”
But did he? If he’d been faster, if he’d found the guy sooner, if they’d been on the walkway earlier, before it had collapsed-
“Buck, stay with me.”
His chest hurts. His head hurts. His eyes sting and everything is aching and he can’t remember when he last felt this exhausted. But after everything, it’s the least Buck can do to follow a direct order.
“Copy, Cap.”
The street is a blur of lights and sounds and figures. Hands grabbing for him the second he and Bobby make it out of the building. Voices he recognises but can’t quite single out as the world swims around him. Someone pushing him to sit on the ambulance step, someone else clipping a pulse oximeter to his finger. Someone lifting his chin, a light shining in his eyes. They’re talking to him, asking him questions they probably want him to answer, but he can’t focus on the words over the echoing of his heartbeat in his ears.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
He’s alive.
There’s soot smeared across his face; he can feel the grit of it, wants to reach up and try and wipe it away, but he doesn’t think he has the energy to lift his hand. Bobby is standing sentry at his side and Eddie is a few feet away watching him like he’s afraid Buck might disappear if he so much as blinks, and he thinks now it must’ve been Hen and Chim looking him over before but he doesn’t know where they’ve gone. He hopes Chim isn’t calling Maddie to tell her what’s happened. The stress isn’t good for the baby. His niece.
He gets to live to meet his niece.
But Andy-
Sometimes Buck wonders if Bobby can hear the thoughts in Buck’s head, if he knows them even before he’s thought them himself, because that’s when Bobby finally turns to look at him. There’s a sadness in his eyes that reminds Buck of the way Bobby looked at him when Eddie got trapped underground, like he can feel the pain and the hurt and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
“I had him, Bobby,” Buck whispers, because he can’t bring himself to say it any louder.
Bobby sits down beside him, close enough that their shoulders touch. “I know, kid.”