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Buck was already on the way to the call with the rest of the 118 when he felt the alert come through on his phone.
“What’s the call again?” he called to the others as he dug his phone out of his pocket. He had a familiar feeling of quiet apprehension running through him as he always did on his way to an emergency, an acknowledgement of the approaching unknown coupled with the need to remain calm sitting heavy in his stomach.
“Building collapse,” Bobby replied, but Buck barely heard him. Not when his eyes were glued to the screen of his phone, where a notification sat telling him that Taylor had just pressed the alert on her bracelet. Any sense of quiet or calm vanished inside him and was instantly replaced with a fear, more intense than he’d ever felt before.
“What’s the address?” he asked numbly, and closed his eyes with a shaky breath when Bobby repeated it and it matched the GPS ping from Taylor’s bracelet perfectly.
“What is it?” Chimney yelled, struggling to be heard over the wailing sirens. They were getting louder and louder the closer they got to the scene of the accident, sounding as though companies from all over the city had been called out.
Buck wanted to be sick, he wanted to get out of the truck and run, anything so he wouldn’t be sitting here in this situation, anything to get him there faster. But he couldn’t do anything but sit there and pray that it would be some kind of mistake, that Taylor wasn’t there, and if she was, that he wouldn’t be too late.
“I think Taylor’s there.”
The words changed through the rig, the energy changing immediately. Horrified faces turned to face him, bodies stiffening as a sense of alertness emerged in each of them; one of their own was in danger and they were going to do whatever was necessary to make sure they got her back safe.
They arrived at the scene and Buck was out of the truck before it had even stopped moving, the other members of the company weren’t far behind him. The scene was already crawling with other first responders, and the sound of screaming and calling out for help rent the air. They paused long enough to check in with the scene commander who directed them to a section of the collapse to start searching.
The other moved off and Buck made to follow but Bobby seized a hold of his jacket, holding him back.
“I will say this only once, Buck,” Bobby said, speaking low and fast and looking more serious than Buck had possibly ever seen him. “You are not to go all cowboy on this. We’ll find Taylor, we will find her, but you are not going to help her or anyone else by running off to do your own thing, okay?”
Any other time Buck might have bristled at his words, but he was too busy feeling like his entire world was coming down around him. He managed to look up at Bobby and swallowed roughly. “I can’t lose her, Bobby.” His voice was pitched so low that no one else had a chance of hearing, but Bobby did. He nodded and clapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder.
“And you’re not going to. Now let’s go to work.”
They waded into the rubble and set about searching, slowly clearing other bloodied and bruised victims from the remnants of the building. But none of them were Taylor. Bobby stayed close to Buck as the minutes ticked over, though Buck wasn’t sure if that was to be a comfort or to make sure he didn’t disappear somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. The other members of the 118 rotated around him, sparing a hand on his shoulder or a few words of comfort when they could, but nothing made Buck feel better. He knew that the horrible feeling churning in the pit of his stomach wouldn’t go away until he caught a glimpse of her.
And then finally, blessedly, he did.
He saw her red hair first, a splash of colour against the brown and grey rubble.
“Taylor,” he yelled, surging forward, slipping and sliding over pieces of stone, Bobby half a step behind. “Taylor,” he said, again and again, grunting with effort as he shifted the pieces of stone trapping her in place. She thankfully seemed to have fallen into something of an air pocket, keeping her relatively safe from the falling debris. Not that that made Buck feel any better when he saw the smear of blood down the side of her face.
“Buck?” she said hoarsely, as they heaved the final piece of stone out of the way.
“I’m here, I’m here,” he said, climbing down carefully to join her in the pocket of space.
She was absolutely filthy, covered in dirt and dust, but the only injury Buck could see was the one to her temple. But still he didn’t feel reassured, knowing all too well what injuries could lurk below the surface.
“I-” Taylor began but broke off with a sob. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Hey, hey,” Buck said, taking her hand, the most he’d allow himself to touch her. “I’m here, I’ve got you.”
Above them, Bobby was bellowing for a paramedic and within moments Hen appeared beside him, before climbing down to join Taylor and Buck.
“Hen!” Buck said in relief, but his friend was intent on Taylor.
“Hey girl,” she said softly, eyes assessing her visible injuries. “Can you tell me what hurts?”
“My head.”
“Just your head? Anything else?”
Taylor started to shake her head, but Hen and Buck were quick to intervene, holding her still.
“No, no, don’t move. Just talk.”
“Nothing else,” Taylor confirmed.
“Okay, we’re gonna get a brace and stretcher just to be safe, and then we’ll get you out of here.”
Taylor stopped herself from nodding again, and Buck stroked a hand down the side of her face that wasn’t covered in blood. Tears were streaming down her face as much as Buck could tell that she was trying to hold them back.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, leaning down to press an achingly gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’m here, I’m here now.” He paused, guilt coursing through him, before adding, “I’m sorry.”
Taylor made a quiet noise of surprise. “Why are you sorry?”
“Because I wasn’t here sooner.”
Taylor raised a hand, ignoring Buck’s protest, and touched his face, before threading her fingers through his hair, holding his face close to hers. “But you are here . You came to get me and that’s all I care about.”