Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Their legs knocked together uncomfortably as the jet started the landing process. Casey was sitting next to him sans her wig and padded bra, looking decidedly more masculine than Buck had seen her look in a while.

The two of them'd had quite a laugh at the commander's assistant, Raul, who'd been the one to question their assignments.

"Are you sure you'll be able to pass as a guy" the man asked Casey, genuine concern on his face.

He must be new. SEALs or even SEAL adjacents generally made a habit of not letting any genuine emotion cross their face. They also made a habit of not questioning each other's abilities or assignments.

Raul, however, was wearing an expression with nothing but genuine concern, which was kind of sweet, and also probably a confidence boost for Casey. Especially since she'd been concerned about being misgendered and not respected her whole life, especially in the military.

So this guy's, albeit dumb, question was probably a serious morale boost, Buck figured. Plus she definitely thought it was funny, judging by the way her lips quirked for half a second.

"Yeah, man. I think I'll be fine." She finally responded after letting her voice drop an octave.

Raul's eyes damn near bugged all the way out of his head. "Oh right, okay that's good then." He said and then scurried off in embarrassment.

Buck's lips quirked at the memory of how they'd laughed so hard they'd been wheezing as soon as the door shut behind the assistant.

Just then Buck felt the jet's landing gear make contact with the runway and all eleven of the passengers braced themselves as the whole jet shook and slammed into the ground repeatedly.

I see the landings are still as shitty as ever, he thought to himself, some things will never change I guess.

The back of the plane opened and orders were relayed through their comms to go get set up in their barracks and then to meet in the conference room in an hour.

Buck had been to more than his share of bases, but the Shindand Air Base was a new one for him. It wasn't too bad, honestly. He'd definitely stayed at far worse, not to name any names, but most ARMY bases would probably qualify as worse.

It was an easy set up once they got to the barracks, he wasn't even bothering to unpack his pack seeing as he was part of phase one. He probably wouldn't sleep here more than one night at most.

He, Masser, and Gunner met the other half of the team outside the barracks building and they all headed for the conference room. Raul was hanging near the back of their group and Buck nodded to Casey who agreed easily enough. They both swung around to the back to talk to him.

"So, how green are you exactly?" Buck asked as he and Casey fell into step on either side of him.

"I served a year in the National Guard, before I transferred to Navy six weeks ago." He answered easily, almost as if he'd said it a million times before.

"So you're very green." Casey nodded.

"Yes, Ma'am, or uh Sir? I'm a little confused there actually?" He stuttered out, and Buck had to hold back a chuckle and could see Casey struggling too.

"It's still Ma'am, I'm just undercover as a man." She stated, easily, and Buck knew she'd said some variation of those words many times over. She was chosen for undercover ops like this often, after all.

"Then yes Ma'am, I'm still very green." Raul nodded.

"Hmmmmmm, I guess you don't know the number one rule to surviving SEALs then?" Casey hummed, and Buck barely suppressed a grin, he remembered the team doing this same thing to him many, many, years ago.

"No Ma'am?" Raul perked up looking between them, too damn eager for his own good, "what is it?"

"Always make sure your boots are tied." Buck replied easily, pointing down towards the other man's boots.

Hook, line, and sinker Buck thought triumphantly.

Raul looked down at his boots with an almost panicked expression and Buck quickly moved his pointer finger up to flick the other man in the forehead. Raul looked confused for a second before realization of the trick seemed to hit him and Casey and Buck burst out laughing.

God had Buck missed this. Although he'd missed it specifically with his team, he could still have it with Casey while he was back.

And with Marco again, his traitorous thoughts whispered, soon we'll have it with him again too.

He shook his head hard to get rid of the thought, he wouldn't believe that Marco was still alive yet. Not until he saw him with his own two eyes. Not after six years. And certainly not based off an anonymous source that their mission commander wouldn't even name.

They arrived at the conference room and all filed in and took a seat when the commander told them to.

He tossed a file to both him and Casey, "those are your new identities for the time being, look them over and get them memorized by tonight."

Buck flicked his open for a glance, his name was now Bradley Cooper and he'd been a marine for five years. "You two are going to be sent to separate fighting rings tonight where we know they're scouting. Put on a good show and get yourselves picked up by these guys. Stay with them and transfer any information about their layout and operation while you're there."

He and Casey nodded, they could handle this mission easily enough. The only wrench in it so far was Marco. Not to imply that Marco being alive would be a bad thing, it most certainly wasn't, but there would definitely be a hell of a lot more on the line if it turned out to be true.

God did Buck hope it was true.

Hope is for suckers. He reminded himself harshly, he couldn't afford this mindset right now. Suck it up, this isn't LA and this isn't the 118.

...............................................................................

It was the kind of place that Eddie started out at. Buck thought as he took in his surroundings. He was dressed in marine fatigues sans the jacket and with new dog-tags that declared him as one Bradley Cooper for the time being.

The mission had officially begun and he was standing in a crowd surrounding two men wailing on each other in an empty lot that'd been overtaken by dirt and weeds. It was just like where Bosko had taken Eddie to let off steam in the beginning, before Eddie had taken it about three steps too far and started fighting for money and likely for some sort of organized crime ring.

To be fair, Buck had known exactly where Bosko had taken Eddie the second he found out about the whole street fighting debacle, because Buck had been the one to show Bosko the makeshift fight club in the first place. It was truly an act of Karma for his younger self's bad decisions that it'd led Eddie almost to his destruction years after Buck had kissed fighting goodbye.

Although if that'd been karma, then him being here, on deployment, in a different fight ring, with the hopes of seeing his old team again, could only be described as divine retribution.

General musings about the past aside, this place wasn't half bad. Honestly, if he wasn't actively trying to get kidnapped, he'd be able to admit that a younger version of himself would've really enjoyed it here. It was a mixing of some of the locals, some of the US soilders, and if the fighter name 'microphone' was anything to go by, even an off duty reporter.

Taylor Kelly would've appreciated the dedication to keeping an ear to the ground that this reporter exhibited. Which was a weird thought to have, he hadn't really expected anything here to remind him of her.

Overall it wasn't a bad atmosphere though, just a bunch of men, a couple women though they were all American, some alcohol somewhere, some hookah, and undersupervised violence and aggression.

What could possibly go wrong? He thought sarcastically, although, he reminded himself I'm not a first responder right now, I can't wear more than one hat, I'm a soldier right now not a firefighter and I have a different job to do.

Speaking of that job, he only had one shot to make these scouts notice and choose him, despite the fact that many of these men had been here multiple times and had likely already been scouted and sized up. Which means that he needed to make one hell of an impression.

Ergo, the big boss. Like in pretty much any video game, there was always the big boss that you had to beat. Normally, fighting the big boss would be something that was worked up to, however, as previously stated, he needed to make one hell of a first impression.

Fortunately, they'd given him enough intel before he'd been sent on mission that he already knew who the big boss was, some guy, funnily enough, who went be the fight name 'Bowser'.

Buck really hoped this mission didn't end up being classified because he knew that Christopher would get a kick out of that detail.

What was also fortunate was that this place was in no way organized. Which meant that the fights were decided by who hopped in the ring and didn't need to be set up ahead of time. So by the time Bowser ambled his way into the ring after the last two had vacated it, Buck was ready.

"Who dares to try their luck against me?" The man roared, and yeah Buck was really starting to understand the nickname now, he kinda sounded like the character, plus the guy was truly huge.

The crowd seemed to quiet for a second and hesitate, which Buck took as his chance to push his way into the circle before anyone gathered their courage.

"I do." He called out while hopping into the ring.

The man nodded at him and that was all that was necessary before the fight began. Bowser came at him swinging his fist in what would've been a powerful right hook had Buck not ducked and spun away.

Unfortunate, he thought to himself, he's big and he's fast.

That was fine though, Buck wasn't a SEAL for nothing, even if he was out of practice, and on the next swing he ducked but instead of spinning away he bounced back up with an uppercut to the man's jaw. Buck heard the man's teeth smash together, but didn't waste any time in pushing him further off balance with a solid front kick to his stomach.

The man recovered quickly though, and Buck could definitely understand why this man was the boss. Big, strong, fast, and a good recovery time, he was probably a better fighter than video game Bowser was. And yet, Buck was better, and he knew it.

After another minute of punches and dodges Buck figured that he'd put on enough of a show and it was time to put an end to the fight. So the next time Bowser took a swing at him and he ducked he came up and threw and elbow instead of a fist. Bowser went reeling and Buck could already see the red welt forming on his forehead. He followed it up by grabbing his head and dragging it down to meet his knee, Buck heard the crack of his nose breaking and the man slumped.

Bowser had finally met his match.

.................................................................................

He hung around the arena and picked up a couple more fights throughout the night, just enough to make it reasonable that he looked tired and mildly injured by the time he left. Make himself appear an easy target for his potential captors.

When everyone seemed to start splitting off into the night he made sure to hang around with the last of the stragglers so he wouldn't be lost to his kidnappers in the crowd. Once most of them had dissipated into the night he split off into the sketchiest alleyway he could manage.

It was definitely working, he could hear several someone's trying to be quiet and slowly surrounding him.

Good he thought with a grim satisfaction as he put up a superficial fight when a hood was thrown over his head. There was a pinch in his neck and then all he knew was darkness.

Chapter Text

He woke up with hard earth beneath him and darkness around him. He took a minute to get his bearings, slowly sitting up and then crawling around to find the parameters of his new enclosure.

He was in what appeared to be a jail cell with a dirt floor. It was about 8x10 ft with no windows and industrial strength metal bars making up one wall. Other than that, he had no idea where he was or what else was around him. He could hear signs of life though, something rustling around, snoring, and some heavy breathing. If he had to guess, there were other cells like this all around him, but the other occupants were either sleeping or keeping quiet.

He felt all along himself checking for any concerning injuries, but he didn't find anything more than a couple bumps and bruises from the fights. He was still wearing the Marines fatigues he'd had on when he went into the fight. He was missing his three knives though, which he'd been expecting.

He reached up to the pocket right over his heart, and yes, the St. Christopher medallion was still there. He let out a sigh of relief, he'd taken a chance bringing it with him. He knew that it might be taken when they checked him for weapons, but then again, Eddie had given it to him to keep him safe and it couldn't exactly do that if he didn't take it with him into danger.

The next thing he did was stick his tongue into the back of his mouth and feel around his back molar. They'd given him a one way transmission device fastened to his molar. It allowed him to send them messages and updates through morse code by biting down on it accordingly. It was still there thankfully.

He quickly tapped out a message saying that he'd been taken, in case they hadn't already figured that out. Also that he was in a cell that appeared to be in a basement along with a number of others but that that was all he knew. Unfortunately, the transmissions only went one way, so he could only hope that his message was being received.

That was about all that he could do for the moment though, and now he just had to sit tight and wait. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, not for long though.

He heard what sounded like a meta door opening and suddenly there was light. Way too much light and he had to squint for a moment so his eyes adjusted.

"Get up!" A man's voice yelled in Arabic, which was fortunately a language that Buck knew well enough thanks to his previous Seal years.

There was a clanging sound and the man who Buck assumed to be a guard came into view as he ran a baton along the bars of all the cells.

Wake up time he tapped out through his communicator, it was important that he accurately relay the schedule this place ran on.

"You have thirty minutes!" A second male voice called out in Arabic, and a third repeated in English.

That implied a mix of prisoners who were Arabic speakers and English speakers, which he supposed would make sense based on the demographics from the fights the other night. He relayed as much through his transmitter.

Although, thirty minutes till what? He wasn't sure exactly. He heard grumbling and movement coming from the other cells, but he kept quiet. Slowly stretching out his muscles on the floor, focusing on his bad leg especially. Whatever happened in thirty minutes he'd best be prepared for.

Sure enough, what felt like thirty minutes later a large group of what he assumed to be guards came into the hall. They hooked a thick chain with one end on each end of the hall. It stretched across in front of all of the cells at about three feet high. There were locks every eight feet or so attached to the chain, one in front of each cell.

He wasn't entirely sure what it was for, but he had a feeling he was going to find out. He heard the cell door on the far end of the hallway slamming open and a man cursing in Arabic. It was quickly followed by the chain in front of him rattling. The process continued until they got to the cell right next to Buck. He heard the cell door slam open, but no cursing or struggling was heard. The chain rattled and Buck saw for the first time the purpose of the chain.

There was a man handcuffed, and those handcuffs were locked onto the chain. Behind him, Buck could just make out another man in the same position. He assumed all the other cells' inhabitants were lined up behind them, it was a genius invention in moving a large amount of prisoners he had to admit. The chain was anchored on both sides so that once you were locked to it you couldn't move, and the locks were far enough apart that none of the prisoners could reach each other either.

He was disrupted from his admiring of the invention by the group of guards moving towards his cell door and he realized he was next. The cool logical Seal part of his brain wanted to play it cool, comply and get more information before he fought, lull the guards into a false sense of security. However, he wasn't Seal Evan Buckley right now, he was Bradley Cooper, Bradley Cooper who was a Marine, and Marines weren't exactly known for their stellar anger management skills.

"The fuck? Hey!" He yelled as the first guard entered his cell and grabbed his arm. He threw a punch, knocking the guy off a bit, but just as quickly there was a second guard grabbing his other arm.

"Let go of me!" He demanded trying to kick out, and a third guard slipped behind him kicking his feet apart so he was off balance and unable to get a good stance.

The third guard put him in a full nelson. Buck struggled as much as he thought was appropriate as his hands were locked together in handcuffs in front of him. He was then dragged out of his cell and his hands were locked onto the chain. He gave it an experimental tug and the chain rattled but didn't move any farther, just as he'd thought. He gave it another tug for the sake of keeping in character.

"Chill out, soldier boy." Came a voice from behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see his cell neighbor. "You're not getting out of here."

Buck took a further look behind him and scanned the other prisoners' faces, none of them were Casey. He turned his eyes back to the man, he seemed vaguely familiar.

"You're Microphone." He said, not a question.

"And you're the guy who beat Bowser." The man replied rolling his eyes.

Buck ignored that, "You sure are dedicated to getting a story aren't you."

The man let out a chuckle, "didn't exactly intend to be this dedicated."

"You didn't fight them?" He stated though it was more of a question, "when they opened your cell."

"Didn't have all the information yet." He shrugged.

Holy shit, Buck was pretty sure he'd met Taylor Kelly's soulmate.

"If we ever get out of here." Buck said, "I have someone you should meet."

The man gave him a strange look, but before he could reply they were being tugged forward and a guard was coming to stand by each one of them with a gun in hand in case they tried anything.

They were led out into a hallway and past several doors that were the same as the one they'd come out of. They were essentially labeled 'cell block A, B, C, and D' in Arabic. They'd come out of cell block E which was at the end of the hallway, so Buck supposed there were only the five. He relayed that information through his transmitter.

Casey was probably in one of those other blocks, that was if she'd been picked up at all. He couldn't decide if he hoped she had or hadn't, on the one hand if she had then that meant he wasn't alone in here and that the mission had a higher chance of success. On the other hand if she didn't get picked up then that meant she was safe and away from this hell hole. He damn well knew that she could handle herself in danger, probably better than him with how long he'd been out of commission, but still, the sentiment stands.

Marco might be in one of those blocks too, his traitorous mind whispered. He shut that thought down quickly though, he wouldn't dare to even hope until he saw the man with his own two eyes.

They were led into a hallway that encircled what appeared to be a dirt arena. There were metal bars around the arena facing wall of the hallway as well as grates for the ceiling. It looked like stadium seating above the arena and people were beginning to pour in. The noise of them almost distracting Buck from seeing the guards on either end hook the chain into the walls like they had in the cell block.

The remaining guards stepped away and walked out of the hallway as soon as the chain was secured. Once the door was shut and locked behind them he heard a clattering whirring noise from above him. There were more bars coming down around him, making partitions between each of the fighters. He quickly moved the chain so it wouldn't be caught by the bars, and looked over to see the other men doing the same. A guard came around the front of the makeshift cells tossing a key into each one.

"When your gate opens you come out. There are handcuff keys around the arena to free your hands, then you fight whoever or whatever else is out there. Win and you will be rewarded." The guard called out in Arabic, then repeated in English.

Buck bent down to grab the key that was tossed at his feet, quickly unlocking himself from the chain. He slid the key into his pocket for later. He figured they couldn't possibly be that dumb and keep this operation running, but hey it was worth a shot.

The arena was almost deafening at this point, there were people stomping their feet right above his head hooting and hollering like they lived for this. Buck glanced up only to receive a cloud of hookah blown straight into his face. The man who'd done it elbowed his friends and laughed.

"Look at the stupid little white boy!" He guffawed, "come to kill us, but he will die here instead!"

"Fuck you!" He spat out in Arabic, if he wasn't convinced his spit would've come come flying back down onto him he would've literally spat at the man.

As if the guy next to me isn't a local Afghani man! He wanted to scream at the man, god he hated self-righteous assholes, but he was smart enough to know the man was just looking for free entertainment.

The crowd was made up entirely of men. Well, that wasn't entirely true, there were plenty of women in skimpy dresses that appeared to be working the crowd as well. Buck knew from the mission files that they weren't there willingly, they'd been taken just like the fighters. The crowd didn't seem to care though, hooting and hollering and grabbing at the women as they strutted by.

Buck felt a bit sick to his stomach, this really was some of the worst humanity could offer. He was glad that they'd hopefully be taken down within a couple weeks.

He had to survive those couple weeks first though, remember the mission, keep focused. It was with that thought in mind that he started tapping away on his molar, relaying as much information about what was going on. God he hoped these transmissions were going through.

He wasn't sure what changed but all the sudden the crowd went silent, then they started stomping. The grates above Buck's head started rattling loud enough to make him flinch, and then two of the gates opened. Buck saw two men from further down the line dart out and fall to their knees in the dirt, picking up keys and struggling to unlock their cuffs.

The man to Bucks left managed to get his off first and he ran towards the other man, who just in the nick of time managed to get his off and roll to the side to avoid the tackle. They proceeded to grapple with each other, until one of the men, Buck wasn't sure which at this point, managed to pin the other and knock him out in one clean punch.

The crowd roared and then a buzzer started going off and the crowd started counting down from ten. The man looked around startled, then darted back towards the open gate he'd come from with only a second before the door slammed shut behind him. The crowed booed, but the guards just took the unconscious man, plopped him unceremoniously onto a gurney, handcuffed his limbs down, and rolled him away.

A couple seconds later, two more doors opened and the process repeated itself.

Chapter Text

After watching another three fights, he started to figure out how things worked.

Observation number one: no one hesitated in the fights, there was no goodwill or refusals to fight. It was a dog eat dog world out in the arena.

Observation number two: despite observation number one, no one was trying to kill anyone. Knock outs and maiming seemed to be fair game, but there were no neck snapping's or sending someone's nose into their skull. They wanted everyone alive, presumably to keep on fighting and providing entertainment, but still, not a death match.

Observation number three: if you were knocked out or otherwise seriously injured, the guards came out between fights, handcuffed you to a stretcher, and took you away. He wasn't sure where, presumably to some sort of medical station elsewhere in the base.

Observation number four: there was no rhyme nor reason that he could decipher for whose cage opened up. In fact, there wasn't even a limit on how many cages opened at once. The third fight had let out three people from their cages.

Observations number five: after a fight was complete then the buzzer went off. When the buzzer went off then whoever didn't need to be carried off on a stretcher had ten seconds to get back in their cage before the door closed. If the door closed before you made it then you were included in the next fight. You kept fighting until you were either carried off or you made it back to your cage.

Given all the information he'd acquired, he started to make a plan. First and foremost, he needed to get himself taken away on a stretcher. A big part of his mission was getting an accurate layout and finding out as much as he could about how this place functioned and how to navigate it. He already knew where the cells and the arena were,  now he needed to see where they took the injured.

However, he also needed to win a fight, secure a decent spot in the hierarchy here. Which meant he'd need to stay in the ring for a second fight. However, he also couldn't look like he was eager to be here and beat up his fellow prisoners, especially not in front of the other prisoners. Which meant he was going to have to miss the buzzer and not get back to his gate in time intentionally, and he needed to make it look convincing.

He also needed to make sure he didn't damage his fellow prisoners too badly in the fights, while still making sure that he didn't get too badly injured himself. But still injured enough to be taken away in the stretcher.

This was going to be complicated, but he could handle it.

After two more fights, his cage suddenly opened. He darted out digging around in the dirt arena floor until he grabbed a key and worked his handcuffs off. He managed to get to his feet at the same time the other man did.

It was one of the men from a couple cages to his right, and he was strangely glad that it wasn't either of his cell neighbors that he was fighting. He knew it didn't matter ultimately, they were all prisoners. Still though, the less familiarity there was the better.

He did his best to inconspicuously slip the handcuff key into his pocket as he took his stance and the other man charged. Buck stepped up to meet him and immediately dodged the first fist. He took a few light steps back causing the man to chase him.

He wanted to get an idea of his fighting style and how best to incapacitate the man without doing serious permanent damage. It also helped that prolonging the fight meant a bit of a show, and hopefully more favorable treatment from the guards. They'd said something about being rewarded for doing well after all. He also figured that looking a bit wary and nervous in front of the other prisoners was likely a good thing, no need to seem leagues ahead of his opponents. If he did so then he risked ill placed resentment from his fellow prisoners, even if it wasn't his fault he was in here the same way it wasn't theirs. Or at least not that they were aware of.

The man continued to chase him, pushing him a few more steps back, further towards the center of the arena, then threw a kick that Buck let glance off his thigh. He would need to be as far away from his cell door as he could be so that it would be more believable when he missed the buzzer. It also wouldn't hurt the injured image he needed to present to the guards in order to leave here on a stretcher.

Buck let himself be pushed almost entirely to the far side of the arena before he threw his first hit. The other man had thrown a hook that Buck had ducked and used his momentum to follow up with an uppercut. He didn't let it land as hard as it could've though, he needed this fight to last long enough that it would be believable that he'd be too injured and tired to make it back to his gate.

It kept going like that for a while, Buck returned a hit for ever three the other man threw. He took about half the hits, mostly harmless, he was letting himself be knocked around a bit at best. He made sure to reel back every time as if he was being hit hard though. It was a careful pattern he maintained.

That was until he decided the fight had gone on long enough and that he was far enough across the arena that it was time to end it. He needed to make it look messy though, so he tackled the other man to the dirt floor of the arena. They rolled around for a good minute before Buck managed to get a good chokehold on the man. Another minute later and the man was unconscious, carefully sprawled on top of Buck so it'd take him longer to get to the door.

The buzzer went off loudly and Buck made a visible effort to roll the other man off him and stumble to his feet. He exaggerated his limp as he stumbled towards his cell door, and just like he'd planned, it slammed shut right before he reached it. He let himself crash against the bars and yank uselessly at them for show.

He heard two more cages opening and continued to yank at the bars for another couple seconds to allow the other fighters a chance to get their handcuffs off before the fight started. After a careful count to ten he turned around in time to see two other men about twenty feet away on either side. The one to his left got his handcuffs off first and immediately rushed him.

Buck managed to roll out of the way at the last second, allowing the other man's momentum to carry him straight into a head on collision with the cell bars behind him. Like a bull with the matador, except this man didn't get back up after slamming into the bars head first, Buck was fairly certain he was unconscious. He sent up a quick prayer to whatever deity was ruling in this hellhole that the man hadn't managed to give himself a serious injury like a skull fracture or a spinal injury.

The fight wasn't over yet though, Buck reminded himself as he turned around to face his other opponent. The man and Buck carefully approached one another, circling and sizing each other up. Buck made sure to exaggerate his limp.

He'd need to lose this fight and get taken out on a stretcher, but make sure not to get seriously injured. He figured his best bet was going to be to pretend to be unconscious, he just hoped he could make it work out that way. He wouldn't be much use in getting an idea of the layout if he was actually unconscious after all.

Another thirty seconds of circling an Buck made the first move, sending a lazy jab towards the man's chin that was easily blocked. The man responded with a quick front kick that Buck let land. He fell backwards but quickly scrambled to his feet. He threw a sloppy left hook that somehow landed, but the other man seemed unaffected.

Buck traded hits with the man for a while until he had deemed it long enough. Then he dropped his arms a bit, letting more of the hits land and reeling back from them, pretending to get hit far harder than he had been. Another minute and he decided it'd been enough.

Buck faked stumbling forward and dropping his arms further, leaving his head wide open for attack. He didn't have to wait long, soon enough the man was hitting him with a decent uppercut. Buck rode the momentum, letting his head whip back and then following it with the rest of the body, straight to the ground.

Once he hit the ground he didn't move, kept his eyes closed and evened out his breathing, faking unconscious to the best of his ability. Thankfully, the other man didn't follow him to the ground with more punches. After a few more seconds he heard the buzzer and the other man's pounding footsteps moving away, presumably racing back to his cage.

After another minute, hands were grabbing him and he stayed carefully limp as he was rolled onto a stretcher. He was impressed that they seemed to be careful to keep his spine aligned. Clearly they really did do their best to keep the fighters alive and of decent health. To be fair, it was probably easier to take care of the fighters they had than it was to have a higher turn over rate.

Soon enough they snapped handcuffs into place on his wrists and ankles, then felt the stretcher being lifted up and then they were moving him. They were taking him presumably to the exit that they'd taken the others through.

He kept his eyes shut and breathing even as he focused his other senses, trying to obtain as many details about his surroundings as possible. He felt them take a left, another left, and then a right. Then he heard some sort of beep and the sound of some sort of mechanism unlocking. Then there was the sound of a door opening and they were moving forward again until Buck's journey was abruptly ended when his stretcher was placed on some sort of raised surface.

It was hard enough to not be a cot or a bed, perhaps a table? That might make sense if they really were planning on treating his injuries, but then again so would a cot. Even one of those damned hospital beds would feel better on his back then this did.

Eddie's couch would be heaven right now, but he was decidedly not thinking about anything Eddie, the 118, or California related right now anyways. So hard platform it was!

One of the men that'd brought him in called out in Arabic to, hopefully, a medic? Maybe another guard? Informing them that they'd 'just brought them another one.'

The mystery person responded by essentially verbally waving them off with a 'yeah yeah whatever' tone. Buck's breath nearly stuttered, because that voice was familiar, achingly so.

He fought against every urge to open his eyes and seek the man out, to prove that it was him, that he was alive. He couldn't though, not only was he supposed to be injured and unconscious, but he was also undercover. He wasn't Evan Buckley right now, he was Bradley Cooper, and Bradley Cooper had never met Marco Tripoli.

So he waited. If it actually was Marco, then Buck was pretty sure that he hadn't noticed him yet. There was soft clattering and other noises to Buck's left, as well as moans and groans and the occasional murmuring. If Buck had to guess then he'd say Marco was probably being used as a medic, and was currently working on other patients.

Eventually, there was a creaking sound that came closer to Buck, and when it got to the point where it sounded like it was right next to him he heard a hitch in breath. It was quiet and quickly muffled and Buck didn't have time to wonder about it before there was a fist on his chest. The knuckles dug into his sternum and were quickly rubbed up and down and his eyes flew open.

He quickly met the eyes of the face above him and found his gaze locked with Marco Tripoli's shocked one. The both just stared for a minute before Marco seemed snap out of it. Glancing up covertly, and Buck followed his gaze to see the guard standing in the corner of the room watching.

Buck saw Marco's throat bob as he shuttered his expression smoothly, moving one hand to feel along Buck's chest for any breaks. The other hand wrapped around one of his wrists as if he were taking a pulse. It was hidden from the guards view, and he felt Marco tap out a quick rhythm.

Kid, is that you?

Buck felt like crying. He felt like screaming. Or doing literally anything that would count as being able to react to finding Marco alive. He mostly wanted to hug the man and never let go, but he kept his expression neutral instead and tapped out a quick message of his own.

Hey, Ma.

Chapter Text

He was in a wheelchair. That was the first thing Buck really noticed about Marco after his mind had stopped stumbling through the mantra of its really him! He's alive! The fact that he was in a wheelchair. However both his legs still seemed to be attached to his body.

Marco noticed him noticing and tapped out drugged on Buck's wrist, which wasn't enough information to stop Buck's confusion. Marco noticed that too though and added 'frequent shots' which still wasn't making any sense to Buck, and Marco continued, 'paralytic agent.'

Now he got it. The wheel chair made more sense now, as did the fact that Marco hadn't escaped. Buck would've normally expected better from him, only one guard, no bindings, and surrounded by supplies that he had easy access to? The man should've been out of here ages ago, but with the added explanation of a paralytic drug, it suddenly made a lot more sense that he was still here.

'Is this an op?' Marco tapped out on his wrist, other hand probing around Buck's head to maintain the image of the infirmary doctor.

Buck didn't respond, he couldn't, it wasn't allowed for him to tell anyone outside the mission about the mission. Even if you wanted to or think that you should trust someone. Marco knew that, so at Buck's lack of a response he just sighed and nodded.

'What do I need to know?' Buck tapped to him. Reminding himself that there'd be time for hugs and catching up later, right now he needed to survive this and get Marco out alive too.

I can't find him again just to lose him! His mind screamed.

'Fights every night. five cell blocks. Rotate one each night for fights. Usually one mole per cell block at all times.' Marco informed him as his hands felt along Buck's rib cage for any damage.

'Who?' Buck asked quickly.

'Idk' Marco responded, 'I don't trust Mellow in C'

Which was something, Buck supposed. It was probably wishful thinking that Marco would definitively know anyways. It's never that easy, Buck chided himself.

There was another question he needed to ask, even if this one was a bit more selfish than mission oriented.

'Did anyone else survive?' Buck tapped out carefully, holding his breath and praying desperately.

Marco closed his eyes for a second and shook his head slightly, letting out a deep sigh, one that Buck understood far too well. He held back the tears, it was stupid, he'd known going into this that the chances were zero, he didn't have time to be upset about it. He swallowed and pressed on.

'Look out for Needle.' He told Marco as the man straightened up from checking out Buck and nodded towards the guard.

"He's good to go." Marco told the guard cooly, "his wounds are superficial, he will be fine with a nights rest."

Before Buck was rolled away by the guard though, Marco grabbed his wrist and drew a quick 'X' on it with his finger. Buck twisted his hand and did the same to Marco's wrist in turn.

The 'X' had already been a thing the team had done before he'd joined and he wasn't really sure of the origins of it. He was pretty sure that none of the rest of them were either, to be honest. It was just something they did sometimes when words weren't an option. There wasn't really a specific meaning to it either, just a quite 'hey I'm here, you're here, I'm alive, you're alive, we're together.'

He continued to ponder the 'X's' as he was shoved back inside his cell. He hadn't been looking forward to sleeping on the cold dirt floor, but was pleasantly surprised to find a blanket and a pillow sitting in the corner. He supposed this must be what the guards had meant when they'd said that they'd be rewarded for a good performance in the ring.

He settled into the corner with his threadbare blanket and lumpy pillow and wondered what he might have to do in order to get a mattress. He wondered about a lot of things, like what else he might have to do in the ring or maybe outside of it to survive his two weeks here, as he transmitted the information that Marco'd given him through his molar.

Once that was done he settled into his blanket as much as he could, tracing the 'X' Marco'd drawn on his wrist. He'd wondered if he'd ever feel an 'X' on his skin again, Casey and him hadn't done it since the funerals.

He remembered one time, Eddie's abuela had pulled him down and traced a cross on his forehead with her thumb and he'd nearly wept on the spot. He hadn't though, he'd waited till he got back to his empty loft for that, wouldn't have been able to explain how desperately his skin had missed the feeling, even if it wasn't quite exactly the same.

His skin starved for it, a truly ridiculous amount if you asked him, even after all these years. A few times he'd even caught himself drawing quick little X's on the skin of the members of the 118. He'd drawn dozens on Christopher's skin when they were sitting atop that fire truck.

None of them ever drew any back though, which, to be fair, how could they? They didn't know. They didn't know how much it meant, how much Buck craved the letter, how desperately Buck needed it to be painted on his skin once more. They didn't know about the black light tattoo he'd gotten of an X over his heart. Invisible, but still there, a ghost of a mark on his skin, just like the ghosts that accompanied him.

They didn't know that the reason Buck had been crying so hard while the ladder truck was pinning him to the street wasn't just because of the situation. Part of it was because his skin was burning with the need to be painted with X's that were not coming, would never be felt again.

And yet, his wrist was warm now, with the memory of the X. It was possible to have again, it was possible and Buck wouldn't let it slip away from him, he wouldn't lose this again, couldn't lose it again. He had a piece of his family back and he wasn't going to let it go. Never again.

...............................................................

The next four days were easy. Or as easy as they could be considering he was currently imprisoned. The schedule remained the same, they were woken up, some shitty slop that Buck refused to think about the contents of was served through the bars, they were allowed time to work out in some sort of a common gym area like an actual prison, and then they were sent back to their cells until lights out.

It was exactly the same for the next four days, and Buck made sure to report all of it through his molar. He still hadn't seen any sign of Casey, though to be fair he hadn't seen anyone other than the guards who wasn't in his cell block.

The fifth day was different, which he'd been expecting thanks to Marco's explanation. It'd just been confirmation that the fights went on every night, and that they rotated through the five cell blocks with a different one each night. It actually wasn't a terrible system, it gave them all a decent period of time to recover from the last round of fights while still keeping the crowds regularly entertained.

Not that he found himself particularly appreciative of that system when he was once again in one of the cages around the arena watching two men fight. Microphone was one of them, and Buck had to say that he was definitely doing well. The man had skills, it made Buck wonder about his history, he definitely had training.

The fight was over quickly, Microphone won with minimal injury and a clean knock out of his opponent. The buzzer went off and the man made it back to his cell with seconds to spare.

Next thing Buck knew, it was his door that was swung open and he sprinted into the arena, diving for the nearest key. He unlocked his cuffs and surveyed the arena to find three other men had also been let out.

Well, this is certainly a challenge. The voice inside Buck's head huffed sarcastically.

The fight was quick though, quicker than Buck'd been expecting, the other three converged on each other in a messy brawl of fists and kicks while Buck was still on the other end of the arena. One of them was knocked out within the first few seconds with a strategically placed elbow. Buck watched the other two fight as he approached carefully, mapping out their movements and finding the perfect time to strike.

The man with his back turned to him knocked the other down and Buck took the opportunity to kick his knee out from behind, grabbed him by the hair and dragged his head down to meet Buck's knee. The man slumped to the ground and stayed there, but Buck could see his chest still moving with breathes.

The other man and him froze for a moment, staring at each other wide eyed as they realised it was just the two of them left. Then, the man on the ground scrambled to his feet, let out a ferocious yell, and launched himself at Buck, tackling him around the middle and sending them both to the ground.

They both rolled around for a solid minute, each trying to get on top of the other and pin them to deliver a knockout blow. Buck ended up winning, flipping them, sitting on the mans chest and pinning his arms with his knees. The man stared up at Buck, knowing he'd been beat and nodded. Buck slammed his head to the ground and the other man went still, closing his eyes. Buck could tell the the other man was still conscious, playing dead, but he let him be, he didn't need to do more damage if the other man was letting him win.

Buck stood carefully, keeping an eye on the other man to make sure it wasn't a ploy to get him to drop his guard, but he stayed on the ground, feigning unconsciousness. After a few seconds, the buzzer went off and Buck ran for his cell, making it just in the nick of time.

He watched as the three men were take away on stretchers and the fights continued. Half an hour later, everyone had fought, and there were only about ten of them left in the cages. By all means, people should have started leaving, they should've started bringing the ten of them back to their cells to sleep off the fights, or even to the infirmary to get checked out. Yet, none of that happened, the cages stayed locked, no guards came into the ring, and the crowd seemed to be working itself up even more.

"We have a special treat tonight!" The announcers voice rang out over the crowd, "two of these fighters will face the Gorilla together!"

Who was the Gorilla? Buck wondered, looking around at the other fighters, but none of them seemed to have a clue what was going on either.

"Pick your two fighters!" The announcer continued and the crowd roared.

There were a couple words thrown out by the crowd, but the loudest amongst them was the call for 'blondie'. Buck looked around quickly, and yep, he was in fact the only one with blond hair.

"Fantastic." He spat out under his breath as his cell door unlocked and he stepped out into the arena.

"One more! One more! Who will Blondie be teamed with?" The announcer called over the cheering crowd.

A part of him resented the fact that his fighter name was apparently blondie, but he ultimately reminded himself that it wasn't actually important. It didn't matter that he would've preferred something cooler, like bulldog maybe.

'Certified golden retriever' a voice whispered in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like Hen.

The crowd continued to roar, and a name rose above the rest. 'Microphone.' Buck was almost bitter for a second at the fact that the other man got to keep his fighter name from before, which was undoubtedly cooler, before he remembered where he was. He shook off the slight jealousy quickly and turned to see the other man step out next to him.

"Who the hell is gorilla?" Microphone asked him and Buck just shrugged.

"No one from our cell block." Buck replied.

Then two machetes were tossed into the dirt at Buck's feet. He reached down to pick them up, a knot growing in his stomach as he handed one to the other man. Who exactly were they being put up against that they felt it necessary to give them a teammate and weapons.

"I don't like this." Microphone muttered, stepping closer to Buck and Buck grunted in agreement as there was an ominous creak from the other end of the arena.

A door swung open on the opposite wall, but not the one that the guards used to access the arena. Buck held his breath and watched as someone stepped out, and he let it all go in a surprised whoosh when he realised exactly what they were up against.

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Microphone exclaimed, and yeah, Buck could definitely agree with that sentiment.

Chapter Text

Buck couldn't believe it, he was tempted to pinch himself for a second before he remembered where he was and what he was doing. None of this was a dream or a nightmare, this was really happening.

There was an actual fucking gorilla standing on the other end of the ring. It was ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous. It was like the ancient Roman colosseum that Chris had done a project on last year, except instead of fighting lions they were fighting a gorilla.

Buck had no idea where they even managed to get a gorilla! More specifically, where they managed to get this gorilla. It was huge! Bigger than the ones he and Chris had seen at the LA zoo, bigger than any gorilla he'd seen at any zoo, quite frankly. What the hell were they feeding it? Steroids?

"Uhhhh, so what exactly is our game plan here?" Microphone asked, "we're definitely working together on this, right?"

"Definitely." Buck replied, swallowing down his fear.

This was a new one for him, but he dealt with solving new problems everyday, it was his job both back home and as a SEAL.

See the problem, solve the problem. Bobby's voice floated through his head.

Buck took a deep breath as the animal roared and pounded on the arena wall. It hadn't noticed them yet, but Buck didn't think that'd last forever.

"Ok, here's the plan." Buck said, "you're machete is sharpened, right?"

Microphone ran a finger along the edge of the weapon and it came away bloody, thankfully it was, in fact, freshly sharpened.

"I'll distract it, keep it's focus on me." Buck started explaining, "you're going to sneak up behind it and slit its throat. Gorilla's have a jugular vein same as we do, so if you can cut it deep enough then it shouldn't last much longer."

"You're sure?" Microphone asked, setting his shoulders back as if preparing for the fight.

"Yes. Now go!" Buck called and watched as microphone made his way off to the side.

Once he'd made it a decent distance away, Buck started hollering to get the monkey's attention.

"Hey! Hey! Over here!" He yelled waving the machete around.

It took a minute for the creature to pick him out over the general chaos of the arena, but as soon as it did it's eyes narrowed and its nostrils flared. It let out an impressive roar that made Buck's heart pound in his chest and then it charged.

Buck decided to take his chances and let it get way too close for comfort before diving to his right, like a bull and matador. He rolled, careful to not cut himself or lose his weapon, and was back on his feet in less than a second.

The gorilla swiped an arm out at him and Buck raised his machete to meet it and stepped back quickly. His dive had turned the gorilla so it's back was to Microphone, so now the name of the game was keeping it facing this way and not getting hit.

He couldn't see microphone behind the giant creature, but he had to believe that the man was fulfilling his part in the plan. If he didn't then both he and Buck were dead men walking, so he'd better.

He continued backing up and swiping the machete through the air in front of him defensively. The gorilla already had a few cuts on its arm, but it wasn't slowing down, and Buck was running out of space to back up into. Only about ten more steps remained before his back would be against the arena wall. He really didn't like his odds if that happened.

With five more steps to go, microphone pulled through. Between slashes, all the sudden microphone was piggybacking on the primate, and with an impressive battle cry, slit its throat.

As soon as the deed was done, microphone leapt away from the monkey and Buck sprinted around to meet him, both of them backing away towards the opposite end of the arena. They brandished their now blood coated machetes as the gorilla continued to stumble after them.

After only a few more steps though, the mighty creature collapsed. The arena was silent for a moment, no sound other than their exhausted panting as the crowd held its breath. Then, almost as if as one, they erupted into cheers and whistles of appreciation.

"Oh thank god!" Microphone exclaimed, "I really didn't think that would work."

"Yeah, good job though, man." Buck replied slapping a hand on the other's back, "you really pulled through, saved both our asses."

Microphone just nodded mutely at the praise, wiping the sweat off his face with his, at this point disgusting, shirt.

"Are you hurt?" Mic asked, eyes scanning over him.

Buck took a second to assess before answering. he'd definitely have a good number of bruises and be sore as all hell tomorrow, but there were no major injuries as far as he could tell.

"Fine, I think. You?" He replied, eyes raking up and down the other man and honing in on the bloody arm.

Microphone caught his stare and looked at his arm, "it's just a scratch I think, it got me with its claws. If I can get some disinfectant I should be fine."

Buck nodded, resisting the compulsory, 'let me take a look, I'm a firefighter, I can help.' That was on the top of his tongue. He wasn't a firefighter here, and as far as he could tell, Mic was telling the truth.

"Hey, where's the alarm?" The other man asked suddenly, reminding Buck they were still in the ring, "and shouldn't our cells have reopened?"

Buck turned to look, sure enough all the cells along the arena wall were shut, and the alarm, which definitely should have sounded by now, had not.

"What the hell?" He muttered, searching the arena for anything he might've missed.

"They don't expect us to fight anything else do they?" Microphone asked, panic creeping into the edges of his voice. "Do they expect us to fight each other?"

"I don't know?" Buck replied, the crowd wasn't doing anything other than cheering and shouting and no one had told them to fight.

"I don't like this!" Mic said, he'd now ripped off part of his shirt to tie around his arm.

"Me neither, but listen, if we're fighting each other then we lose the machetes. They don't ask for death matches, no reason to give them one." Buck reasoned to the other man.

"Agreed!" Mic nodded quickly.

"And I promise I'll pull my punches as much as I can, but make sure you lose and pretend you get knocked out." Buck continued, "you need to get taken to the infirmary and get that arm loo-"

Before he could finish, the door nearest them opened and ten guards poured out, all of whom had guns trained on them.

"Put your weapons down!" Two people shouted, one in Arabic and the other in English.

Both Buck and Mic quickly complied with the order, letting the machetes fall to the ground and raising their hands in surrender.

"Never mind." Buck said quiet enough that Mic was the only one to hear it.

Next, 7 of the guards converged on them brandishing hand cuffs. Buck didn't bother fighting them other than the token struggle at first as they slapped the handcuffs on his wrist. Microphone didn't fight them at all.

After the handcuffs had been secured, they were both escorted by two guards each grabbing onto each of their arms out the door that the guards had entered through. It was the same one he'd watch them take the unconscious fighters through previously. The remaining three guards trailed behind them with their guns trained on his and Mic's backs.

Despite the uneasiness at the heavy firepower, Buck tried not to let himself get too worried. After all, given the door he hadn't seen them use for anything else, he was pretty sure they were being taken to the infirmary. He wasn't entirely sure why considering they were both conscious and ambulatory. Perhaps one of the rewards for being chosen as one of the top fighters of the night was extra medical care?

Or maybe it was because they'd fought a live animal who could've been carrying all manner of infections and diseases, so they wanted to disinfect them? He wasn't sure if they'd actually care enough to do that, but an infection was a stupid way to lose a top fighter who was pulling in revenue. Especially when a disinfectant like hydrogen peroxide was so cheap.

Then again, he didn't actually know that they were pulling in any revenue, but he assumed the heads of this place had to be profiting somehow from this operation.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he was shoved through a door, Microphone close behind him. They found themselves standing, as predicted, in the infirmary.

They were both led to separate medical tables, Buck noted that there was a row of at least ten, and then forced to lay down. As soon as Buck was horizontal, his handcuffs were quickly undone and each arm grabbed and pinned down to the table. He jerked his body half heartedly for appearances and was unsurprised when each hand was again cuffed to each side of the table. Then the same was done with his legs with straps.

Man, they sure do love their handcuffs. Buck snarked in his head.

"These two are fine, both are awake. They faced the gorilla and need a look over, you can wait until last for them." The guard near Microphone's head called out in Arabic.

An assenting noise came from what appeared to be a back room, and Buck turned his head as the creaky sound of wheels came closer. Marco wheeled himself out with bandages in his lap. His eyes met Buck's and gave him a quick once over before coming back to meet his gaze. Buck gave a slight nod to confirm that he was in fact relatively fine and could wait his turn.

Marco's eyes flitted over to Microphone and confirmed that the same could be said for him. Then he rolled himself over to one of the other tables and got to work.

Buck's eyes remained on him as he treated all the other's. Even when the guards walked right by him to remove those who'd been treated and assumably bring them back to their cells. After so long without having been able to lay eyes on his teammate, after so long of thinking he was dead, Buck felt almost greedy with the need to drink up the newfound ability to simply watch Marco.

It was an hour before Marco finally got to Microphone, and Buck heard the man hiss at the sting of the disinfectant. Then Marco was quickly wrapping up the open wounds, giving him a cursory once over, and then sending him on his way with one of the guards.

Then it was just him and Buck, or more accurately it was Marco, Buck, and the guard against the opposite wall who wasn't paying them a bit of attention. Buck could honestly probably grab Marco and make a break for it now with how terrible a job the guard was doing. He didn't though, he knew he'd have a better chance of getting Marco out alive if he waited for back up that was coming in less than two weeks.

Marco's fingers skimmed over his ribs to check for breaks while also tapping out a message. You just had to be a top fighter. Can't keep a low profile to save your life, can you?

And make your job easier? Buck raised a playful eyebrow at him, no way!

Marco worked in silence for a bit, and Buck could tell he was making the process go as slowly as possible. He wondered if maybe he wasn't the only one who was greedy to spend as much time in the presence of their old teammate.

You got old. Marco tapped against his leg. He was subtly massaging the muscles there, and Buck knew Marco could tell something had happened to it. To be fair, the scars were a dead give-away, but they didn't have time for an explanation right now and they both knew it.

Buck wanted to laugh at the absurdity of that statement. He wasn't that old, just barely 30, but Buck supposed he'd been a much younger 20 something when Marco had last seen him. Less weighed down by grief and loss too.

You too, asshole. He responded, hiding his grin.

Yeah, well. Let's both try and get older. The other man tapped against his wrist this time, finishing the exam, don't make yourself a target.

Then Marco was calling to the guard, who looked like he was shaking off a daydream. Buck quickly drew an X on Marco's wrist, a promise that he'd do his best. Marco traced one back before pulling away, and then Buck was being shepherded back to his cell.

Chapter Text

They were in the gym. It was a daily occurrence except for fight days. After lunch they'd bring them all to this large room with work out equipment for about two hours. 

Gym time wasn't bad, they were allowed to talk, and they didn't have structured work outs or anything. It was like how Buck imagined a prison gym back in the States would be like. If you ignored the line of guards with guns then it was basically adult recess. 

Buck used his gym time partially to work out, going through the motions of what he'd do at the fire station. He missed having Eddie or even Chim or Hen as his spotter, but Microphone was a pretty decent one. He also used his gym time to socialize though. 

There was still a mole somewhere in this cell block, and Buck was determined to find out who it was. Plus, he wanted to get to know his fellow prisoners, make some friends. There was a good chance he'd need them, both in the ring and when they broke out in six days. It'd be good for them to trust him too, for their own sakes when the break out happened. 

Judging by the increased blinking of the lights and brief malfunctions of some of the guards's key cards yesterday, the 'technological assault' phase of the plan was well under way. 

Today he was with a group of four other men surrounding the bench press. They were taking turns on it, but were realistically putting more effort into their conversations than they were into lifting. 

It was him, Microphone, Mic's other cell neighbor whose name was Sammy, and two guys from further down the cell block named Asif and Hassan. Sammy was infantry with the US Army, or at least had been before this, and had been taken six months ago. Asif and Hassan had been friends and students before this. They were originally from Iran but had been studying abroad at Kabul University. They'd gone out with a group of other students to some fights and had gotten picked up a few months ago. 

Between the three Americans' knowledge of Arabic, and Asif and Hassan's studies of English at University, they were able to make conversation relatively easily. Sammy was semi-fluent at best, and Buck had to pretend to be only a bit above that for the sake of his cover. Microphone though, due to his job, was completely fluent so it was fine.

"Think we could fight them?" Asif nodded to the line of ten guards along the wall, all armed with semi-automatics. "There's more of us than them." 

Buck needed to play this incredibly carefully. He needed to quell any potential uprisings since he knew rescue was coming in less than a week, but he also needed to make sure that no one doubted that he sided with the other prisoners. He also needed to try and find the mole without giving himself away as being more aware than he should be. Essentially he needed to play dumb for the mole, so he didn't get caught before the mission was over in a few days while also maintaining the loyalty of those around him while also figuring out who the mole even was. 

Easy Peasy. 

"I think if we all tried it then a few of us might survive to win the fight." Buck allowed cautiously, "but I don't think any of us would make it to the end of the hall much less out of here." 

Hassan muttered something the Buck couldn't hear under his breath and squeezed Asif's shoulder, "I told you. We aren't getting out of here." 

"Don't say that!" Asif shrugged him off, "there has to be a way." 

"The only way that even a handful of us could stand a chance is if everyone rioted at the same time." Microphone pointed out, "we would need numbers, but I don't know how to organise that without getting caught." 

"That can't be the only way!" Asif continued to argue. 

Buck felt bad, the kid was the youngest of them all at just 19. Even Hassan was at least 21. The rest of them knew just how slim their chances were, but they still had small measures of hope that they'd get out. Asif though, was full of unbridled hope, the type that would make him jump at false opportunities. The kind that would get the kid killed. Hassan had been doing well at keeping him alive thus far though, even if sometimes it felt like listening to a conversation where a kid found out too young that Santa wasn't real. 

"It isn't the only way. Microphone's right when he said that the only chance of escape anyone has is with numbers on their side." Buck agreed carefully, "those numbers could come from the outside. There's enough Americans here, soldiers especially, that the government has to know we're missing. They'll send help soon, until then we just have to survive." 

Sammy, who'd remained quiet thus far, snorted loudly, "the government isn't going to fucking help us." 

The man sounded incredibly sure of that, sure enough that it rang alarm bells in Buck's head. He didn't sound like someone bitter who'd given up hope, he sounded like he knew. If Buck didn't literally know that the military was actually coming, in less than a week at that, he might've believed Sammy. 

"How do you know that?" Mic prodded quietly, carefully, an expert at extracting valuable information from an emotional or upset witness. "you seem really sure, what are we missing?" 

"They already know we're here, they've known we're here." Sammy replied, with a dark humourless laugh, "they don't care." 

"What makes you say that?" Mic pushed further, his reporter side shining through blatantly. 

"My CO comes to the fights. He's not the only higher up in the US Military either." Sammy informed them, and sure Buck had spotted some people in the crowds who didn't look local, but that didn't mean he had known they were military officials. 

"I tried talking to him one time. I screamed up at him from the arena. Just a week before I was taken he'd been joking around with me and helping schedule my leave. Then I was in the arena and he didn't even acknowledge me, just looked straight through me." Sammy continued, and Buck could see the horror reflected on everyone's faces. 

"Who's your CO?" Buck asked, teeth grinding. 

"Why?" Sammy sighed, "why would it matter?"

Because he's about to be in deep shit, to the tune of 'charged with treason' in about a week. Buck thought to himself, quietly fuming. 

"I was wondering if I knew him." He shrugged nonchalantly.

Sammy looked at him for a minute, seemingly considering his answer before saying in a short clipped tone, "Baker. Alexander Baker, and he isn't the only one either." 

"Who else is there?" Buck asked at the same time as Microphone asked, "what do you mean?"

They shared a look for a moment, agreeing to forget the slight communication mishap and continue this line of questioning together. 

"I've seen others." Sammy explained, "I don't know who they are exactly, but I know they're part of the military." 

"Do you know any of them by name? Any you can 100% confirm are a part of all this?" Buck prodded, perhaps a bit too firmly, but hey, it worked. 

"Only one or two." Sammy shrugged, "the rest, I mean, I know you've all looked at the crowd. There's no way some of them are local."

"Yes, but that does not mean they are all a part of your military." Hassan pointed out, grunting a bit as he lifted the bar once more.

Asif nodded in support, "yes, one of them is the Dean at Kabul University. We saw him our first week here. I tried calling out to him, that we were his students. Hassan said it would not work, and he was right."

Asif hung his head once he finished, a reminder of the defeat and Hassan sat up and patted his shoulder lightly commiserating, "I wish I had been wrong." 

"What about you?" Buck turned to Mic, deciding it was time to take the attention off the two young boys, "your boss here too?" 

"No, I doubt she'd be able to pass up the opportunity to report on this place anyways." Microphone shrugged, "what about you blondie, seen your boss around?" 

An image of Bobby flashed in front of his eyes, and he almost chuckled at the idea. Bobby would never be able to stand a place like this, much less be able to see Buck in it.

"It's Bradley." Buck corrected easily then added, "And no. Guess that's a good thing though, even if I'd like to see a familiar face right about now." 

"Trust me." Sammy replied, voice dark, "no you don't." 

Buck almost shivered at the tone in his voice. There was a tone people got sometimes when they were at the end of their rope, still fighting but so far away from hope that they couldn't even imagine it. It was something Buck'd heard only a handful of times in his life.

Sammy had it now. 

"Well this fucking sucks." Microphone declared after clearing his throat to break the heavy silence.

Buck nodded along with the others before they fell into an easy silence. Hassan switching his turn on the bench press off to Buck's at some point. Soon enough, their hour was up and they were being rounded up to be taken back to their cells. 

He couldn't exactly say that his socializing hour hadn't been a success, because any information he could get his hands on and any relationships he could establish in here would help. It wasn't exactly a complete success though either, seeing as he hadn't managed to get any closer to finding the mole. 

They all lined up in order of their cells, Hassan and Asif towards the front while he, Microphone, and Sammy made up the last three, in that order. Buck watched the two near the front carefully, Asif had already seemed more on edge and combative than normal today. He wasn't sure why, but right now he looked ready to literally jump whoever had a gun and came close enough. Buck really hoped he didn't. 

Hassan was doing his best to keep him calm anyways, which Buck was grateful for. He didn't think Asif would've made it here very long without the other boy if he was honest. Even now, Hassan was standing only about a foot behind the other boy. Which was a risk considering they weren't allowed to get too close or talk when they were being reattached to their hand cuffs and chains and brought back to their cells. 

Hassan was standing a bit closer than he was allowed to anyways. It was just a little bit though, so he'd probably be fine as long as the guards weren't going to decide to be particularly anal today. He wasn't speaking or touching Asif, but he was still very clearly grounding the other boy.

Buck watched as Hassan took several deep slow breaths, then, on the exhale, blew the air softly onto the back of Asif's neck. It was so rhythmic that Buck couldn't possibly mistake it for anything other than the grounding technique it was. Though he'd never seen it before, he had to admit it was a very clever work around considering their predicament. 

He wasn't entirely sure if it worked in actually calming him or not, but they all made it back into their cells without an incident so Buck counted it as a win. 

"Pssst." He heard Microphone hiss, and he made his way over to the bars. 

"Yeah?" Buck hissed back, fingers wrapping around the bars as he strained his ears to listen. 

"Something's up with Asif." Mic whispered, pointing out the obvious. 

"Yeah, I know." Buck answered, "do you know what?" 

"No." The other man answered, "you?" 

"Nope." Buck shot back. 

"It's his birthday." Sammy added in, out of nowhere. 

Buck sucked in a quiet breath, they'd been whispering, which he knew wasn't the safest form of communication, but he still didn't think anyone else was listening or could even hear them. 

"You guys are shitty whisperers." He added, before it went silent.

Chapter Text

It was fight night. The last one before they were broken out, if everything went to plan.

There was an uneasy buzz to the air as they were all led into the cages along the arena, just like there always was. There was never any guarantee what would happen on these nights, the fights weren't to the death but there was still no guarantee of survival, or avoiding serious injury. Though, Buck suspected that if you sustained an injury that wouldn't allow you to fight anymore then you'd be killed anyways. There'd been a guy in last weeks fights who'd had his leg snapped clean in two. They hadn't seen him again after the guards dragged him out.

Tonight was different somehow though, the crowd seemed even more excited than usual. It was so much louder, the stomping and the excited and bloodthirsty voices cheering above them. It sent a chill deep into Buck's bones, and if the uneasy looks the rest of the prisoners were exchanging was anything to go by, then he wasn't the only one.

He took in the arena to see if there were any clues as to what was in store for them, and he found that there weren't just keys to their handcuffs in the dirt this time. There were weapons as well, knives and machetes and even a couple spears. He took a steadying breath, mind racing at the possible implications of that.

Were they fighting each other with weapons? Were they fighting something else? Another gorilla? Except, there'd only been two machetes for the gorilla, and now the dirt floor was littered with different weapons. It didn't bode well, no matter what possibility ended up being reality.

He turned to look at Microphone, who was already looking right back at him, and in all the time Buck had known him, he'd never seen quite that much fear in the other man's eyes. Buck imagined it was reflected in his. This was going to be bad, a bloodbath likely, judging by the blades. The fear he saw rippling through the ranks of the other prisoners, including the ones who'd been here for months or years, implied that this wasn't a precedented event either.

Why now though? Buck wondered to himself, do they know something?

Surely they didn't though, they couldn't. If they knew what was coming tomorrow then they would be scrambling to prepare or escape. Surely they wouldn't be hosting a giant event like this.

Though perhaps this was their last big hurrah, collect the profits from tonight whilst killing them all. Then cutting and running as soon as it was over. If that were the case though, wouldn't those from the other cell blocks be here too? Though, he hadn't actually seen anyone from the other blocks, perhaps they'd already met the same fate. Perhaps his cell block was simply the last to die. Maybe Casey was already dead. What if Marco was too?

He sucked in a deep breath, he was spiralling, and he couldn't afford to do that right now.Either way, he was here, with no chance of escape unless help came. He clenched his jaw in rhythm to send out a message, to alert his superiors that something was different tonight, though if the tech guys had been successful, they'd likely already know that.

He sucked in another deep breath. Either they knew or they didn't, which meant that either help was coming, or it wasn't. If it even needed to come right now at all. Right now, he needed to stay on task, which was to stay alive, and keep as many others alive as he could. Which at the moment, meant keeping his fucking cool, even if they may be sent to their deaths in a minute anyway.

He looked back to Mic, and once again seeing the fear in the other man's eyes, Buck found his resolve. He had a job to do, and people whose lives relied on him, even if they didn't know it.

"We're fucked, aren't we?" Microphone told him, more than asked.

"Yeah, probably." Buck nodded, knowing better than to sugarcoat to an investigative reporter.

Then the cell door opened and Buck stepped out into the arena, immediately ducking down to grab the key and unlock his handcuffs. When he looked up again to see who his opponent was, he realised that every single cell had been opened. He watched as they all scrambled to grab weapons, he himself managing to snag two large hunting knives, one for each hand. Then, there was an awkward standstill, all of them standing there armed, not entirely sure who they were supposed to be fighting and not wanting to attack each other if they didn't have to. Microphone gravitated towards him, as did Sammy as they were the two closest.

"Tell me we aren't supposed to fight each other." Sammy asked, eyes glancing around nervously, "I'm really not looking to be in an adult version of the hunger games."

Neither he nor Mic answered, not seeing the point in responding when they didn't know the answer themselves. Then, one of the garage-like doors on the opposite end of the arena started opening slowly. It was clearly out of use judging by the awful creaking, but Buck was grateful since it gave them that extra second or two to react.

"Everyone, get together in the middle!" Microphone called and Buck and Sammy followed him towards the center of the arena, "don't spread out, whatever it is we need to work together!"

Buck quickly repeated the same call out in Arabic, as he kept his eye on the garage door. Hassan and Asif came hurtling towards their group with two other guys from the other end of the cell block in tow. Then the door was a good four to five feet off the ground and two full grown lions bounded out roaring.

It was different than with the gorilla. These animals did not waste any time exploring the confines of their new cage, instead immediately setting their sights on their new prey.

"They used to not let the lions eat for three whole days!" Chris informed him while they were dipping the paper strips in the glue mixture. "That way they'd be hungry and extra mean when they had to fight in the arena!"

Chris had a project due on the ancient Roman Colosseum and so he and Buck had decided to make a paper mache replica. The two of them bouncing facts off one another as they worked.

"Wow! I would not wanna be one of those guys!" Buck replied, smoothing over the still wet Mache on their model and getting his hands even more dirty.

Eddie swatted the back of his head with a dish towel, looking at him from where he was doing the dishes. "Keep it clean Buckley, might I remind you that that is the dinner table."

Buck just grinned cheekily at him and stuck out his tongue causing the other man to roll his eyes and turn back to the dishes.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't want to be a lion either." Chris continued, ignoring Buck and Eddie's banter.

"Why's that kiddo?" He asked, turning his attention fully back to Chris.

"It's not like they wanted to be there, and then they got starved and sent to fight to the death." Chris pointed out, "it doesn't sound very nice."

Buck considered that for a moment, "you're right kiddo, that wasn't very nice."

Buck remembered having felt a bit sad for the lion's back then, Chris had been right, they hadn't had a choice and they hadn't been treated well either. He didn't feel sad now though, not when he didn't have a choice either. There wasn't enough room for sadness anyways, not when there was enough fear and adrenaline coursing through him to make him almost dizzy.

He'd have time later to commiserate his shared fate with the lions, the gorilla too. To wonder if they'd been starved to make them just that bit more wild, though judging by some of the marks he caught sight of on the creature's sides, they'd certainly been subjected to cruelties.

The lions wasted no time with their newfound freedom, one of them immediately turning and pouncing on a man whose name Buck thought might've been Omar. He hadn't moved to join the group in the center for reasons Buck would never know, and instead was tackled by the lion. They watched in horror as Omar managed to dig a knife into the beast's shoulder only for the lion to remain unfazed and rip his throat out a moment later.

The second lion had circled around to the other end of the arena and a group of men were working on taking it down. Which meant that the seven of them were left with this one, he realized as it turned its predatory gaze onto them.

"Do lions have a carotid like humans and gorillas?" Mic asked, sounding almost desperate.

"Not one we could get to with that mane in the way." Buck answered as they all stepped closer together and into a more defensive position, "it's going to have to be a head or a heart hit to kill it."

"What's the plan then?" Asif called, his jaw clenched, and it was at that moment that Buck realized that he was in charge of their little group.

"We're going to trap it, circle around it and attack." He decided, hoping to god he didn't get any of them killed, "you two with the spears," he nodded to Sammy and one of the other men Hassan and Asif had dragged over with them, "you get the head, you have more long range weapons."

He watched as the two men gulped but nodded, "the rest of you take the sides and take any swipes or stabs you can." He instructed.

"What about you?" Mic called, as they started to move into position around the lion that was stalking closer to them.

"I'll be in the back," he said, "I'm going to try and cut the tendons in its legs. You two at the head, keep its focus so we can circle around it!"

Sammy and the other man immediately started waving their spears in the creatures face. It roared, clearly unhappy, but they kept its focus enough for the rest of them to slip around so they completely encircled it.

"Take whatever swipes or stabs you can while it's turned away from you!" He called over the din, desperately hoping the other group would keep the second lion out of their way, "don't get too close though, not until I make sure it can't pounce! And whatever you do, stay on your feet!"

The other men did as instructed once the message had been parroted by Asif in Arabic. They kept its focus, and it's head facing towards Sammy and the other man with the spear. The others still got some good hits in with the machetes, nothing too damaging though. Every time the lion started to turn, one of the men at the head would make an aggressive stab with the spears.

First blood went to Hassan, who was just a bit too slow with his machete. The lion turning and taking a swipe with it's claws when Hassan had managed to get a good slice in its back. Hassan stumbled back, blood pouring down his leg, but managed to stay on his feet while Sammy hit it in the side of the had with his spear. The spearhead dug into the lions cheek a bit but didn't get any farther before the lion pulled it's face free.

Buck watched the lion's back legs while keeping an eye on the fight. He let out a low growl of frustration, he didn't know where to cut to hit the lion's damn tendons. Years of being teased about being an encyclopedia of random an weird facts only for those facts to fail him now, goddamn it! He didn't know where to cut precisely to immobilize the legs, but he'd have to make it work anyways.

He watched as the other man at the head stabbed his spear forward at the same time the lion pulled free of Sammy's, the spearhead going directly into the creature's eye. It let out a murderous roar at the sudden pain and Buck watched as it's back legs bent and the muscles bunched in its thighs. Buck, knew without a shadow of a doubt what was about to happen, the lion was going to pounce. He made a snap decision, throwing himself forwards and stabbing one of his knives into the inside of the lion's upper thigh. Then he dug it in and pulled it back towards himself, ripping through every bit of tissue on the way.

The lion yelped and roared again, leg giving out as it turned to face him. That wasn't enough to stop it though, because it regained it's balance enough to keep turning and swiping a large paw towards him. He was already close to the ground so he ducked his head and rolled out of the way, ignoring the sharp sting of pain on the back of his shoulder.

He popped back up to his feet in time to see Asif, Mic, and one of the men he didn't know rushing into the lion's other side. They moved to slash and stab at the lion's unguarded side, but the lion saw it coming, turning around to face them. It's back leg buckled though, throwing it off balance and causing it to rip and fall directly on top of the other three men.

The lion kept going though, it was in an awkward position, but it still had the men pinned to the ground. Buck heard a bloodcurdling scream as the lion managed to bite down around Asif's arm. Hassan was there a second later though, with a hunting knife that Buck wasn't sure where he got. Buck watched as Hassan stumbled more than jumped onto the lion's back and stabbed the knife into its unharmed eye.

The lion opened its mouth to roar in pain once more and Asif tugged his now bloody forearm free. The other man with the spear charged in with a battle cry and jammed his spear deep into the lion's side. It was a good hit, but Buck could tell that it'd missed the heart. The lion attempted to roll towards the offending spear carrier, front paw already coming up for a swipe. It managed to get the man in the calf before it leg out a yowl and went still a moment later.

Buck hurried around to the other side of the lion, where it's body had blocked his view of Mic and the other man. He found the three men, struggling to get out from under the lion, all of them drenched in blood. Microphone was the most thoroughly covered in blood and it took Buck a minute to realize what had happened. Mic had taken the opportunity of being trapped under the creature to get a good stab at the creatures unprotected underbelly. He'd essentially eviscerated the beast, and now all three of them were coated in blood and other organ matter.

The lion was dead though, which was easily a win, no matter how gross it was.

He reached his uninjured arm down, Mic grabbing the hand and being pulled up to his feet. Buck then repeated the process with the other man whose name he didn't know.

"I'm Bradley." He introduced himself, figuring at this point that they should be acquainted.

"Kareem." The other man replied, taking his hand and allowing Buck to help pull him up.

Hassan and Asif, were already up, leaning on each other. Buck pretended not to see the tears streaming down Asif's face. He strode over to them, ripping part of his shirt off. He wrapped it quickly and tightly around the man's forearm. Then he turned to look at Hassan's leg. The scratches were on the outside of the man's thigh, so it was incredibly unlikely that it'd hit the artery.

The rest of their group had split up, Sammy, Kareem, and the other man whose name he didn't know, had run over to the other group to help them finish taking down their lion. It looked like they had the situation under control though. Their lion had enough slashes and stab marks that it might as well be more blood than fur at this point. Mic had stayed with them though, standing guard with a machete and a hunting knife in each hand while Buck patched the two boys up.

He tore off the rest of his shirt, quickly tying it as tightly as he could around the man's thigh. Hassan let out a sharp gasp of pain, but stayed still.

Buck was about to instruct the two to keep pressure on their wounds over the bandages when he heard several thuds and shouts behind him. He whipped around to see two of the men on their backs in the dirt and the lion leaping over them and bounding towards them.

"Shit!" Mic cursed, getting into a more defensive stance.

Buck knew the man didn't stand a chance though, none of them did, not with the lion charging at them like that. So he did the only thing he could think of to slow it down. He stepped to Mic's side quickly, drew his arm back and threw his knife as hard as he could. It was a beyond risky move considering he was now weaponless since he'd dropped his other knife to help the two men with their injuries. It paid off though, because the knife sailed through the air and landed directly in the creature's eye.

The lion stumbled and fell, roaring at the sudden injury, though it quickly clambered back to its feet. It gave the other men enough time to catch up though, and they circled the lion once more. They descended on it with their blades, and the lion didn't even last a whole minute under the onslaught.

As soon as it was dead, Buck rushed over to the men, assessing them for injuries, with Mic limping behind him to assist. They only made it so far though, because then the guards were pouring into the arena, calling for them to drop all the weapons and put their hands up. They all complied easily enough, wanting to get to the infirmary and out of the damn arena before any more horrors could be unleashed.

They were grabbed one by one, handcuffed to stretchers or just handcuffed and walked out if they were ambulatory. Buck watched as the guards stooped down to the bodies on the arena floor, checking for a pulse. Only one of the five bodies was loaded onto a stretcher. Buck did what he could with the order to make sure the others were taken before him. He was fine and didn't need immediate treatment, but some of them did.

He managed to be second to last, with only Sammy behind him. He kept an eye on the others ahead of them, making sure that they didn't suddenly pass out or attack the guards or something. For some reason though, he felt the need to turn around and check on Sammy. He knew the other man was fine, he'd checked him over himself, but still something was telling him to keep an eye on the man.

He turned his head just enough to watch him for a moment in his peripheral vision. He watched as the man limped along, but he also saw when Sammy's hands did something a bit funny. He watched as the man slipped on hand up his sleeve, and it looked like he pulled something out though Buck couldn't see what it was. Then he watched as Sammy stumbled just a bit dramatically, and the guard moved his hand up in front of him as if to prevent him from falling. Then, in just a split second, Sammy's hands pressed into the guards, and then they were gone. The guard then moved his hand away, fist closed tightly.

Buck whipped his head back forward, making sure no one noticed what he saw. His head was spinning, maybe from a bit of blood loss, or maybe from what he'd just seen. Maybe both. One question ringing through his head.

Was Sammy the mole?

Chapter Text

The infirmary was chaos. To be fair, Buck was pretty sure that having this many of them here was not a common occurrence. There was enough tables for all of them though, so Buck supposed that something like this had to have happened at some point. That or they'd at least had the foresight to plan for it perhaps. 

Either way, there was still only just Marco wheeling himself around like crazy trying to triage all 16 of them. Buck watched him give everyone cursory once overs and moving on, trying to get an idea of who could wait and who couldn't. Three of the men were sent back to their cells immediately seeing as they'd somehow managed to escape the ordeal with nothing more than a couple bruises. The other thirteen of them got triaged though. 

When it was Buck's turn he tapped out a quick, 'I can wait' So Marco didn't waste any time on him. Not when there were others much worse off than him. Marco pursed his lips, not liking it and not wanting to trust Buck's evaluation of his own state. Which was honestly fair enough, he'd earned his reputation in that regard. Still, Marco let it go, knowing from his evaluations of some of the others that Buck really wasn't his most critical patient. 

Marco wheeled off and started working on the more serious cases, and Buck just took the time once again to watch. They were so close, so close to being free of this place and to going back home. Rescue was coming soon, either tonight or tomorrow if his timing was right, they just had to hold on a little bit longer. Then Buck just had to make sure that Marco made it out with the rest of them.

Buck couldn't see a lot of what Marco was actually doing, but he saw enough to know that quite a few stitches were being given. He grimaced in sympathy with the other men who'd met that fate, stitches could feel brutal, especially with nothing as far as painkillers went in this place. Though, judging by the sluggish yet steady bleeding he had, he was fairly certain he'd be meeting the same fate as the others when it came to stitches.

It wasn't exactly quiet, there were the ever present sounds of pain that were always in any infirmary, but Buck had spent enough time in various places like this that he wasn't exactly too on edge. Plus, no one was getting rolled out in a body bag, so it seemed Marco's attempts were all successful. He really did question how they thought only one medic would be enough when they set up this whole operation. But hey, it was probably for the better right now, at least he didn't have any more people to worry about. 

Time ticked by slowly. A couple more people were rolled out of the infirmary, including Sammy. Hassan, Asif, and Mic were still here though, and he expected Hassan would be here for a while due to the extent of his injuries. The rest of them stood a decent chance at getting out of the infirmary tonight though. 

Marco had finished stabilizing the more serious patients and had started moving onto the rest of them. Buck watched as he stitched up two other men who just had some deeper scratches. The third one had a nasty gash on his forehead that'd been steadily bleeding through the bandage Marco had hastily taped on when assessing them. 

Then it happened. Suddenly the room was shaking and there was a distant boom of mortar making contact with another part of the structure. The whole infirmary went still at that, silence reigning for a moment. Then there was another boom and more shaking. It was time, they were being rescued finally. 

Two of the three guards hurried out of the room, and Buck looked over to Marco who was already staring at him. Buck didn't do anything, didn't so much as let a muscle twitch, just staring back evenly and hoping that would be enough of an answer for now. 

"Get back to work!" The guard shouted, accent thick, and the moment was broken. 

Marco went back to the stitches he was giving the man, doing his best to quickly patch the man up enough to move on while the room was still shaking at random intervals. Buck really hoped they knew which parts of the compound they were hitting and that they weren't going to accidentally cave in the ceiling above the infirmary. That would really fucking suck, especially since they were so close to freedom.

The distant sound of alarms wailing and gunshots added to the sound of the chaos outside. Buck glanced over at the guard who was now standing by the door looking out the little window nervously. Good. Now their only guard was splitting his attention. 

Marco finished with the guy's head gash and moved over to start working on Buck. He knew that he probably hadn't originally been next in Marco's order of care, but given the situation he wasn't going to fault the man for skipping others. He probably wanted to know what the hell was going on, also Buck wanted him close. 

Marco had him turn on his side as much as the cuffs would allow, cutting through his shirt so he could get to the scratch the lion had left on his shoulder. He shared a look with Marco, and yep, he was definitely getting stitches. 

Wth? This you? Marco tapped on his shoulder while he got the stuff ready for stitches. 

Yes. Buck replied, hissing as the needle dug into his skin. 

What needs to happen? Marco asked, continuing the stitches, and Buck could tell he was going as fast as he could. 

Ideally, we get rid of that guard. He answered, but we can wait for rescue too. 

Marco gave him a look that told Buck exactly how much he didn't like the idea of waiting, which Buck understood. Normally he didn't like waiting either, but he also liked the idea of Marco going one on one with an armed guard less. Especially since he was several years out of practice and in a wheelchair. 

Unfortunately though, the man had other plans. Buck felt as the other man drew a quick X on his shoulder before moving his hands away and getting the guards attention. 

"Hey! I need one of his hands out of the cuffs so I can reach his back." He told the guard. 

"No." The man replied, accent just as thick as before, "you know the rules, their hands must always be cuffed." 

"Can't we just move the cuff to the other side so he can be on his side?" Marco pushed, "I need to give this man stitches on his back. I cannot reach like this." 

The guard huffed, clearly not pleased by this, but glanced out the window one more time and moved over towards them. He holstered his gun and moved to unlock the cuff that was chaining his left hand to the table. As soon as it was free, Buck immediately started struggling, causing the man to hold him down with one hand while trying to get his other hand cuffed on the other side of the table. 

Buck put up as much of a struggle as he could manage, definitely tearing a couple stitches in the process. The man was swearing up a storm and fighting him every step of the way. Suddenly though, the swearing was cut off with a strangled gasp and Buck was coated in something warm and wet. He looked over his shoulder to see the guard clutching his throat and stumbling back while blood bubbled out around his hands. Marco was sitting in his wheelchair, splattered in blood and holding a scalpel, so it didn't take much to figure out what exactly had happened. 

Another couple seconds and the guard was dead on the floor. There was a lot of yelling in the infirmary now, no one sure exactly what was going on. Buck ignored them though, watching Marco roll himself over to the body and grab the handcuff keys off the guard's belt. Marco rolled back over to him quickly and unlocked the cuffs. 

"Jesus kid, you sure are a sight." Marco said, and god it felt euphoric hearing Marco actually speak to him again, especially in that exasperated yet fond tone. 

He looked down at himself and found that he was literally coated in blood. He grinned back up at Marco, "hey, I look like that chick Carrie you guys were always talking about."

"Jesus, you still haven't seen that?" Marco said, unlocking the other cuff, and as soon as he had Buck was tackling him a hug. 

Marco's arms wrapped around him just as tightly, and Buck felt something settle in him that hadn't settled in years. 

"Now we both look like Carrie." He whispered in Marco's ear, and he heard the other man let out a wet laugh. Buck could stay here forever. 

"Hey! Blondie! What the fuck?!" Mic yelled, and just like that the moment was broken. 

They both separated quickly, wiping their eyes and looking up at the rest of the room who were all staring right back at them. Well, those who were conscious anyways. 

Buck cleared his throat, "alright guys, we're getting out of here." He told the room, which everyone seemed mostly on board with, fear not withstanding. 

Buck and Marco started moving around the room unlocking people. He got to Mic first, "I'll explain later, but right now go watch the door and let us know if anyone's coming." 

Mic looked like he was dying to ask a million and one questions, but instead just nodded and did as instructed. They quickly got everyone else unlocked except those who were unconscious. They'd have to leave them for the rescue parties, there was just no way they'd be able to navigate getting out of here carrying multiple unconscious people with them. Buck himself would come back for them if he had to once he'd gotten these guys out. 

"Alright everyone, I'm assuming everyone can hear what's been going on. That's the US military. They're here to get us out." He explained to the room once everyone was up and on their feet. "We're going to be making our own way out of here right now though, so stick together and follow me. Grab any weapons you find along the way, and if you get separated try and continue getting out and stay away from the fighting. If you see any US military personnel they are your friends, don't shoot them, their first priority is getting us out. Does everyone understand?" 

He waited for Asif to translate, but once he did everyone was nodded and murmuring in agreement. He grabbed the gun off the guard's body, then turned to Marco. 

"You know a good way out?" He asked, hoping the other man did, because the only way Buck knew involved the arena and he wanted to avoid that. 

"Yeah, two rights, up a flight of stairs, then a straight shot to a first story room with windows. Sound alright?" The man replied. 

Buck nodded in assent, "stay behind me. We'll deal with the stairs when we get there." 

Marco nodded his agreement and Buck led the others over to the door, "all clear?" He asked Mic who nodded. 

"Alright everyone, follow me and stay quiet." Buck ordered before opening the door. 

He and Mic took point in the front with everyone else following behind including Marco still in his wheelchair. It was a creaky thing, but it was better that they all transport themselves while they still could. They made up quite a group, there was about nine of them and there was a lot of limping and leaning on each other for support. Buck didn't love their chances in a big fight, but they could probably handle a guard or two, especially since he had a gun. 

The first right turn went smoothly, not a soul in sight. He imagined that most of the guards would be in other parts of the building where a lot of fighting seemed to be taking place. They made their way down the hallway and Buck held up a hand for them all to pause when they approached the second turn. He crouched down to peak around the corner, and just as he'd suspected, there was a guard standing outside the stairwell entrance. 

He held up a finger to Mic to signal that there was just one before lining up his gun. It wasn't exactly his sniper rifle, but there were only twenty yards away, so he'd be fine. It was an easy shot, the bastard wasn't even moving, clearly having no idea what was about to happen. Buck pulled the trigger, headshot. The guard crumpled to the ground and he waited a moment to see if anyone else came, but they didn't. He scrambled up quickly and waved everyone forward to follow him. When they reached the end of the hallway he peeked through the small window on the stairway door, but didn't see anyone. He reached down to grab the guards gun and handed it to Mic since he was also in the front with him. 

"Alright, one flight of stairs everyone." He instructed, looking everyone over and finding the two guys in the best shape and gesturing to them, "do you think you can carry him in his chair up?" He asked nodding to Marco. 

The two men nodded, and moved to pick the chair up while Buck opened the door and they all headed up. Once they got up the flight, Buck looked through the window to find another guard waiting for them. He gestured to everyone to get down and be quiet before he swung open the door quickly. The guard whipped around but by the time his eyes locked on Buck he'd already lined up the shot and pulled the trigger. Another clean headshot, the man was dead before he hit the ground. He waved everyone through and they all flooded into the hallway, Marco being placed back on the ground and Asif scooping to pick up the gun. 

They moved quickly, but not quickly enough, because apparently the guard at the stair door had not been the only one nearby. A group of three guards came charging out of one of the other hallways they passed. Buck spun around to face them, shooting one in the head immediately, and then everything descended into chaos. There were gunshots everywhere, and their little group was running in all different directions. Mic covered Buck while he dove forward, pulling Marco out of his chair and into a fireman's carry. He saw Hassan drag Asif, who'd shot one of the guards, into a nearby hallway. 

The three guards were dead, but they could hear more footsteps coming, and everyone except him, Mic, and Marco had split off into other hallways. He growled in frustration before grabbing Marco's arm to pull him along as the three of them ran for the room Marco had said had windows. Another guard rounded the corner just as they slipped into the room. 

It appeared to be an empty office of some sort, but Buck didn't pay too much attention to it. 

"Barricade the door." He ordered, and Mic immediately started doing so as Buck moved towards the windows. 

He smashed the glass quickly, "c'mon!" He called as he climbed out with Marco still over his shoulders. 

Mic quickly followed and they took off running. It was a clear shot to an outcropping of rocks, but they were once again too slow as the guard had apparently gotten through the barricaded door. Gunshots rang out and Buck felt a sudden piercing pain in his calf causing him to stumble. He managed to stay upright though and kept running. 

"Zigzag!" He called to Mic at the same time as he started running in a zigzag pattern himself, "head for the rocks!" 

The gunshots continued as they sprinted and dove behind the rocks. He set Marco down with his back against the rocks, Mic diving down next to them a second later. 

"Jesus fuck!" He heard the man exclaim, panting, but he paid him no mind. 

"Are you hit?!" He demanded, frantically looking Marco over. 

He did not do all of this just to lose the man now. 

"No, I'm fine, but you aren't." Marco waved him off and pointed at Buck's leg. 

He gave it a cursory glance, but as he'd already known, it was just his calf, he'd be fine for the time being. 

"I'm fine for now." He said, and Marco immediately went to protest to which Buck cut him off with a, "I'm fine for now. Worry about me later, Ma. Not while they're still shooting at us.

Marco looked quite grumpy at that, but let it go. There was a pause in the gunfire, so Buck took the chance to pop out the side of the rocks. He saw that the guard was still standing there, unfortunately the guard spotted him too and started shooting again. Buck quickly ducked back behind the rocks, but stuck his hand out with the gun and returned fire in the general direction of the window. Hopefully that would buy them a little time. 

"Are you hit?" He asked Mic when he stopped shooting for a minute. 

"No, I'm fine." The other man shook his head, "well, other than lion injuries." 

The guard started shooting again, and Buck realised that their little hideout was not going to work for much longer. There were bits of rock and dust flying everywhere from the impact of the bullets, and they were too close to the compound still. They needed to get more distance, but in order to do that he needed to get rid of the guard. 

He ducked around the rock once more, gun already up and poised to shoot as soon as the guard stopped shooting. Buck lined up the shot and fired, but he only managed to hit the guard's arm. The man reeled back, but stayed on his feet. Buck went to line up another shot while his guard was still down, but before he could pull the trigger there was another gunshot. Next thing he knew, the guard was toppling over with a hole in his head. 

Buck ducked behind the rocks once again. "Where the hell did that come from?!" He demanded, hoping one of them had seen it. 

"I saw a muzzle flash about 800 yards that way." Marco said, pointing a bit to their left. "Is it one of ours?" 

Buck looked at where the man was pointing, but he couldn't see anything that far away, especially at night. It had to be one of theirs though, otherwise why would they shoot the guard. It was a clean headshot so it couldn't have been an accident. Except that, with that distance and the moderate winds, it would've had to have been a damn good sniper to make that clean a shot. 

"I'm not sure." He said, "but I think I know who it is." 

He stepped out from the rocks, ignoring the protests from the other two men. There was only one way to check his hypothesis, and after all, this was why they'd created the signal in the first place. He stood unguarded out in the open, a big risk but one he was willing to take. He raised his gun straight up in the air, feet planted shoulder width apart and fired three shots. He waited a minute with baited breath, and then he got his answer. He heard the answering three shots, and the bullets landed right around his feet. The first next to his left, the second between his feet, and the third next to his right foot. 

He grinned and let out a whoop of victory, he knew exactly who the sniper was, "c'mon guys, we gotta move!" He called running back over to the rocks and swinging Marco back up onto his shoulders. 

"That was the craziest fucking thing I've ever seen!" Mic called as they ran towards where the shot had come from, "and considering the last few weeks of my life and my career choice, that's really saying something!" 

"That's Seals for ya." Marco commiserated, which was ridiculous considering he himself was a Seal.

"I thought you were a Marine?!" Mic called back, which yeah, fair enough. 

"Nope! Long story, explain later!" He called back. 

He heard more gunshots from behind them, but thankfully this time no one got hit. The gunshots were quickly followed up by answering shots from the sniper, and after a couple the shots stopped. They were so close to where the shots had been coming from now, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the exact location. Then there was a figure running towards them. 

Buck immediately raised his gun, about to shoot when he heard the, “Don’t shoot! US Military!” 

He kept the gun up, but didn’t pull the trigger, not wanting to take the chance that this was a trick. The figure came into view quickly though, jogging towards them, and Buck actually recognised them. 

“Well I’ll be damned, Raul, is that you?” He called, lowering his gun, “they really sent someone as green as you into this shitstorm?” 

“Sergeant said it’d be good for me. Something about baptism by fire.” The man replied, waving them towards him, “c’mon, we’re set up over here.” 

Mic, Buck, and by extension Marco followed him at a jog. Turns out they’d been closer than he thought, and Casey was set up just fifty yards to his left. 

“Needle!” He called as they approached, “good to see you! Excellent shot by the way.” 

“Good to see you too, kid.” She said, not even looking up at him as she lined up another shot and pulled the trigger. 

“I got a surprise for you.” He announced, helping Marco off his shoulders and onto the ground behind her. 

She turned to glance back at him, then did a double take when she saw who was with him, barely getting out a “cover me!” before she was diving to hug the man. 

Buck did as ordered easily, happy to let them have a minute to reunite. He laid down on the dirt, lining up the gun with his shoulder and looking through the scope to see what he was dealing with. 

The left side of the compound, which was where they’d escaped from, was relatively empty. There were a few guards but he didn’t bother with them yet since there were no prisoners escaping or US soldiers engaging with them. The right side of the compound on the other hand, was a mess of fighting. He spotted three gunmen on the roof, and immediately lined up his shot. Hitting them one by one until they were all down. No more came to replace them so he focused on the fray, trying to do what he could with the guards on the edges without hitting any of the US soldiers. 

He made sure to look over to the left every once in a while, taking down a guard or two just to keep them guessing. It would be easier to find their little nest if he kept shooting in the same place after all. 

“Holy shit dude!” Mic said from where he was sitting on his left and catching his breath. “You’re a sniper?!” 

Buck hummed in affirmation, reaching blindly for the night vision binoculars and handing them to the other man, “help Raul keep an eye out, make sure no one’s sneaking up on us.” 

Mic took the binoculars from him and did as told and Buck went back to shooting another gunman that’d just come onto the roof. He hit him easily, a clean headshot, before swivelling over to the left side of the building again. This time though, there was some action. He watched as two figures climbed out one of the windows and started running, though they were apparently injured since they seemed to be holding onto each other for support. They only made it about a hundred yards before a guard rounded the corner of the building and spotted them, immediately opening fire. One of the figures had a gun though apparently and immediately started firing back as they dove behind some rocks. 

Buck quickly lined up the shot and took it, taking out the guard easily. He then used his scope to look at where the figures were crouched behind the rocks and realised that he recognised them. It was Hassan and Asif.

“Hey! Hey!” He called, kicking his foot out towards where he could hear Casey and Marco talking, “reunions over! Come cover me!” He shouted before abandoning post and running towards the rocks the boys were crouched behind. 

He assumed Casey had listened since the sniper fire immediately resumed behind him, taking out another guard that’d come charging around the corner after the last one was shot. Buck was sprinting towards the rocks at full speed, hoping neither of them had been shot. When he got close though, he saw Asif raise the gun towards him, about to shoot. 

“Don’t shoot!” He called, hoping the boy wasn’t too out of his head on panic and adrenaline, “it’s me! It’s me!” 

Luckily, Asif lowered the gun and Buck made it to them without getting shot. He ducked behind the rocks with the two boys, quickly looking them over. 

“Are either of you shot?” He asked and they both shook their heads no. 

“We aren’t doing good though,” Asif said, “that lion really hurt Hassan.” 

“I’m fine.” Hassan grunted, clearly not fine. 

He was fine enough to make it back to the sniper’s nest though, where hopefully Marco could do something to stabilise him until they got pulled out. 

“Can you run on your own?” He asked Asif, and the boy nodded. “Good, follow me!” He ordered before swinging Hassan up over his shoulders and took off running back towards the nest. 

Buck’s calf was really starting to burn now, but he ignored it as he kept on running. He couldn’t bow out now, not when they weren’t safe yet, not when he had so much left to return to. besides he’d had a lot worse than this. So he sucked it up, pictured the faces of his family, gritted his teeth, and kept on running. 

They made it back to the nest, Buck dumping Hassan down next to Marco, “he isn’t in great shape. See what you can do.” 

Marco immediately went to work, Raul handing him a small med pack. “Hey, Raul.” 

“Yes sir?” The other man called back. 

“You need to call us in a ride out of here,” he gestured to the other escapees, “they aren’t in great shape.” 

“Neither are you kid!” Marco added in as Raul did as ordered, “you’re shot and mauled!” 

“You good?” Casey asked as he settled next to her and grabbed the second rifle, it wasn’t as good as the one Casey had set up but it’d have to do. 

“I’m fine.” He murmured to her, then added in louder for Marco’s benefit, “I’m fine Ma! This doesn’t even rank in my top twenty worst injuries!” 

Casey snickered at the indignant noise Marco made, “it might not be a top ten injury, but it definitely makes top twenty!” The man protested. 

“No, Kid’s right!” Casey added in, and Buck groaned that the gasoline she was about to add to the fire, but unable to protest while he focused on lining up his next shot, “it doesn’t make top twenty, you’ve missed a lot in the last six years.” 

Buck pulled the trigger, nailing the target in a bit exactly clean but still effective shot to the chest. 

“Humvee is two minutes out!” Raul informed them, apparently done with calling for their extraction. 

“Jesus Buckley!” Marco exclaimed, ignoring him, “what the hell happened? I mean I know something happened to your leg, but what was it?” 

“A ladder truck.” Buck answered, lining up another shot, “I’ll explain later.” 

He ignored the grumbling from behind him about ‘dumbass kids’ and ‘injury prone idiots’ stifling his laughter. Casey chuckled a bit though, knocking his shoulder when they were between shots. He wouldn’t trade the family he had now for the world, but god had he missed this. 

After another few rounds, they heard a vehicle quickly approaching, the motor rumbling loudly. 

“Is it one of ours?” He asked Raul and Mic who were acting as their scouts. 

“Yeah, it’s our extraction.” Raul answered, “you guys ready to go?” 

“Get them ready to go!” He ordered, “Needle and I are fine here.” 

Just then the humvee pulled up behind them and Buck heard the opening and slamming of doors along with several sets of boots on the earth. He ignored them though, continuing to shoot at the guards pouring out of the building and into the fight. After about two minutes though, a voice from behind them called him and Casey to attention. 

“Masser! Buckley!” The voice called, “come with us! We’re loaded up and ready to go!” 

“We’re fine! We can keep giving cover!” Buck called back and Casey made an affirmative noise in agreement. 

“We’ve got snipers ready to take over, let’s go!” The voice called, and before Buck could protest again added, “Sergeant’s orders! Let’s move, we’ve got critical patients!” 

Buck didn’t bother arguing at that, knowing it would go nowhere. The other snipers could take over, it would be fine, he had Marco, he had what mattered. So he got up along with Casey and they jogged over to the humvee and piled in. The vehicle took off as soon as the doors were closed, leaving a cloud of dust behind them. 

It was over, he realised as they sped towards the base, it was finally over. He’d gotten out, all three of them had survived. It was all going to be ok now. 

Chapter Text

The first thing that'd happened once they'd returned to base was that they were all taken to the hospital and separated. Casey was thankfully allowed to stay with Marco since the man hadn't taken being suddenly separated from them well and she didn't really have any serious injuries. Unfortunately, when Buck had tried to force his way back to them, the doctors had knocked him out so they could deal with his injuries. 

It wasn't the first time that'd happened, but he still didn't like it. 

It ended up being ok though, he woke up only a couple hours later all stitched up and with pain meds in his system. The Sergeant had already been by his bed waiting for him, and let Buck give his debrief as soon as he was awake enough to do so. Then he was allowed to move into Marco's hospital room where Casey was sat by the man's bed. 

Marco had been asleep, which was probably for the best since all of this had to be quite a shock to his system. It'd been Casey's turn, once Buck's bed had been wheeled in next to Marco's, to go get looked over and to give her debrief. 

She hadn't been happy about it, but she'd gone willingly tossing a, "Do not let anyone separate you." Over her shoulder to Buck. 

"Over my dead body." He assured her, meaning it. 

She went without argument after that, and returned a couple hours later. She had a cot with her as well as both hers and Buck's packs. She set his down by his feet and then went about setting up her own cot between Marco's bed and the door. 

"They give you the ok to sleep in here or are we hosting a stowaway?" He asked, watching her dig in her pack for a sleeping bag once the cot was set up. 

"Didn't ask," she shrugged, "I'll riot if they remove me so..." 

Buck would also riot if they removed either one of them. 

"I'll take the cot if you want?" He offered and she gave him a look. 

"Unlike me, you're actually injured." She pointed out, "Enjoy the bed Buckley, and go to sleep, I can see you drifting." 

Buck nodded, not having realized quite how tired he actually was until he wasn't the only one present who could keep an eye on Marco. "Yeah, alright." He agreed, "But we're stealing you a bed tomorrow." 

She snorted but didn't respond, laying herself down and shifting around until she was comfortable on the cot. He drifted off not too long after that, the adrenaline mixed with his injuries finally catching up to him. 

.................................................

The days after that went slowly. It was recovery time now, which was always far slower than the actual mission ever felt. That was fine though, he wasn't complaining, slow meant Marco wasn't in danger. 

Marco slept for three straight days after they arrived at the base. The doctors assured them that this was all to be expected, they'd intentionally put him in a medically induced coma so that way his body could rid itself of the remaining paralytic drugs as well as just generally recover. 

It was going to be a lot, when he finally woke up, so in a weird way he was sort of glad that Marco was out of commission for the time being. It gave them a good chance to figure out the rest of the details of the mission. Specifically in Buck's case, the mole from his cell block. Or the suspected mole, at least. 

Sammy had been safely extracted from the fight ring, and then immediately sequestered. He wasn't exactly under arrest since they didn't actually know he'd done anything. They still needed to keep an eye on him though, and also talk with him. 

Buck had convinced the sergeant in his initial debrief that it would be best for Buck to be the one to talk to him. So, the morning after that initial night, he'd been collected from Marco's room, and brought to an interrogation room. 

He entered the room a bit apprehensively, and found a banged up looking Sammy sitting at the table. 

"Blondie?" Sammy sounded surprised to see him. 

"Hey." He murmured, "How're you feeling?"

Sammy shrugged, "I've had worse. I just- I mean what happened, man? Were we really rescued?"

"Yeah, we're out." Buck assured him with a soft smile, taking a seat at the table across from him. "We've got to talk though, man. There's some stuff you've got to explain."

"You're with them? This was all planned wasn't it? You knew rescue was coming you were part of it." Sammy exclaimed, eyes blowing wide as he pointed a finger right at Buck. 

"Yes, I was." Buck confirmed, he might get shit for this later, but it felt like the right move to be honest with Sammy, especially if he wanted a good explanation, "My real name is Evan Buckley, I'm a Navy SEAL, and I was sent in on an infiltration and extraction mission. Everything else you know about me is true though, I didn't have to do a whole lot of pretending in there." 

Sammy nodded, seeming to take that in pretty easily, "So if we've been rescued then why am I in some sort of interrogation room?" 

Buck sighed, this would be difficult, especially is Sammy saw this as a betrayal from him. "There have been some accusation flying around from the other prisoners that you may have had something to do with feeding information to those running the operation." 

Sammy sucked in a breath, eyes darting around like he was panicking. 

"I requested to be the one to talk to you." He told Sammy, softening his voice a bit to reassure the man, "I didn't think it made sense. You were so incredibly pissed at your CO for having anything to do with it. I'm just asking for an explanation here, because it isn't quite making sense to me, despite the evidence." 

Sammy shook his head, running an open palm over his mouth, whispering a shaky, "I can't." 

"Hey, look at me." Buck said, softly yet firmly, "You have to talk to me, that's the only way I can help you, and I swear to you that I can help you." 

Sammy wasn't denying his involvement, but he wasn't confirming it or explaining it either. Something was wrong here, he was missing something really important. What else did he know about Sammy, about what affected him, what seemed to really make him tick. The only thing he'd seen have a real and deep affect on the man was the betrayal by his CO, so Buck figured he'd start there. 

"You should know that your CO, Alexander Baker, has been arrested and charged with treason." He informed him. 

Sammy had been staring down at his hands that were on the table before, but upon hearing those words his gaze shot up to Buck's. 

"Really?" He asked, sounding unsure. 

"Yeah." Buck nodded, and something in Sammy's gaze clicked, "That changes things, doesn't it?" 

Sammy nodded, "He, uh, he made me do it. I didn't want to, but he made me." 

Well shit. If that was true then at least Sammy wasn't a total asshole, but also, the guy looked scared shitless. What had his CO done to him?

"I need you to explain everything you can." Buck told him, "And I swear I will do everything I can to help you." 

So Sammy told him everything. He told Buck about his baby sister who was twelve and had leukemia. How their parents had maxed out their health insurance but she was still sick, so they'd devised a plan. His little sister was made to be his legal dependent and he'd enlisted so he could get the family health insurance for her. How he'd been station in Afghanistan and had started going to fights with some of his fellow soldiers and had eventually been kidnapped. How what he'd told them all about his CO had been true he'd just left out what came next. 

What had come next made Buck's blood fucking boil. He hoped that Alexander Baker rotted in prison and then again in Hell. 

Sammy's CO had apparently had higher connections in the organization than Buck had realized. He'd been high up enough to pull Sammy for a meeting and tell him that he needed to feed them information. That, as long as he did so, his sister's medical bills would be take care of, and if he didn't then he'd make sure his whole family was killed. 

So as it turned out, yes, Sammy had been the mole, but he'd also been blackmailed into it. Honestly, Buck probably would've done the exact same thing in his shoes, he really couldn't blame the man. Sammy clearly blamed himself though, he confessed it all with red rimmed guilty eyes and Buck felt terrible. 

"Hey, I- I know I don't deserve this after what I did." Sammy started, voice cracking, "But I'm probably not getting out of here for a while, can you just- can you check on her? Make sure he kept his word at least. Make sure she's even- that she's alive." 

Sammy let out a sob then, and Buck felt his heart cracking a bit, "Yeah. Of course I will. Besides, I'm sure you won't be here for long. I'll do everything I can to make sure you get back to her soon, alright?" 

Sammy nodded as Buck stood, "Thank you." He said, sounding like he'd never meant the word more in his life. 

Buck wanted to tell him that there was no need to thank him, of course he would do it. He just nodded instead though, walking back out the door. 

A day later he got to walk back in with one of the best lawyers he could find and a screenshot of a Facebook post showing a very much alive and now thirteen year old Sophia that proudly announced her as in remission. 

.........................................

On that third day, while Marco was still sleeping, they were transferred back stateside. There had been a couple planes running at all times from the base, transferring people back to wherever they were originally from, or more accurately the nearest base to where they were originally from. 

Buck never got the chance to see Hassan and Asif again before they were brought back home, but he checked the records and saw that they'd made it there safely. Sammy was going to be stuck for a little while, and there wasn't much else that Buck could do about that having already brought a lawyer as well as pled his case with the officials. 

He, Marco, and Microphone were all being sent back to California. Casey was coming too even though she technically didn't live there. She'd been allowed to take leave to stay with Marco for a bit during his recovery though, so she went with them. 

It was an easy trip, and Casey slept most of the way through it, and so did Marco who was still drugged to sleep anyways. He hadn't seen Mic yet since they'd been rescued, so the plane ride was a good chance to finally give him that explanation he'd promised. Buck could even give him a full explanation too since the mission wasn't classified. The government having decided they wanted the good press for such a successful large scale operation that brought home so many previously missing or presumed dead soldiers. 

Mic, whose name turned out to be Frank Choi, was already working on his piece to bring back to his publisher at the LA times. He was even talking about writing a book about the experience, hopefully making it on the best sellers list. Which was why, when he was allowed a phone call when they arrived at the medical center on the Edwards Air Force Base, he didn't call his team. 

He probably should've called them, actually. At least to let them know he was ok and coming home soon, that they didn't need to worry about him anymore. Except, he was coming home soon, which meant he'd get the chance to see them very soon, and then they'd know not to worry. He wasn't sure, however, that he'd get the chance to do this if he didn't do it now. 

"Why the hell did you call me to come meet you more than an hour away on a work day?" Taylor Kelly asked as she picked him up from where he'd been on the side of the road half a mile away from the base. 

"You brought government issued ID with you, right?" He checked instead of answering. 

"Yeah. Why do I need that, by the way?" She huffed, digging around in her purse and handing him both her drivers license and her passport. 

"Because, we're going into Edwards Air Force Base and they won't let you on base without this." He explained, waving the IDs in her face as she started driving towards the guard station. 

"Why the hell are we going to an Air Force base? Also, by the way, what the fuck?!" She slapped him on the arm, "Care to explain why I had to find out at the scene of a car accident I was reporting on when I asked your team where you were that you're a fucking Navy SEAL that's been deployed?!" 

He was saved having to answer immediately by Taylor rolling down her window as they approached the guard station. It was easy getting onto the base once they saw his ID, they didn't even question Taylor's or bother running a check on them. She rolled the window back up and immediately shot a look at him that said she expected an answer. 

"Uh, you never asked?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 

"Yes I did. When I did that documentary on the 118 I asked all of you if you had previous military service and I distinctly remember you saying no." She pointed out. 

He cringed, he had been hoping she wouldn't remember that. "Yeah, I guess that's true." He agreed before pointing at the street ahead of them, "Make a right up here." 

She made the turn, "So? Why lie?" 

He shrugged, "There's no big interesting reason Taylor, I just didn't want to talk about it at the time. Plus there was a lot of stuff Im not legally allowed to talk about and I wasn't sure you'd be able to stop yourself from pushing at the time." 

"Wow, rude." She huffed and he gave her a look, "But probably true." She allowed.

"Take a left into that parking lot." He pointed to the medical center, and Taylor did as instructed and pulled into a visitor spot. 

"What the hell am I doing here, Buckley?" She asked as they both hopped out of the car. 

He shot a grin over his shoulder at her, "I've got someone for you to meet." 

He heard her start to ask another question, but before she could finish they'd rounded the corner into the right hallway and he was knocking on one of the doors. 

"Come in." A voice called from inside, and Buck stepped in with Taylor right behind him. 

"Hey man, remember when we first met and I said that if we got out of there then I had someone for you to meet?" He said, grinning at Mic who nodded, "Well, this is her. Meet Taylor Kelly." 

"Hey." Taylor waved, and Mic put on a pleasant but confused smile and offered her his hand. 

"Hey, I'm Frank Choi." He replied, the two of them seeming to size each other up. 

"Alright, this is great!" Buck said clapping his hands together and glancing down at the watch on his wrist, "But they're waking Marco up soon, so I'm gonna head out. Have fun kids!" 

"Evan Buckley, you wait a minute!" Taylor called after him in a voice that made him stop and turn around at the door, "You can't just leave us without telling us why we're here?" 

"Oh right, you're both reporters and you two remind me of each other." He waved between them, "Frank here was so dedicated to keeping his ear to the ground that he became and underground street fighter, and Taylor here regularly gets in trouble with the cops for her investigations. Discuss!" 

He bolts out of the room after that, hearing the indignant squawks from behind him but ignoring them as he jogs over to the elevator and heads up to the third floor. He hoped it works out well for them, but he isn't sure if they'll get along like a house on fire or if they'll tear each other apart. He hopes it'll be the former but they're both reporters so it might end up being the latter. 

It doesn't take him long to get to Marco's room where Casey is already waiting. When he gets there and flops down into one of the chairs Casey gives him a smile and let's him know that they took him off the medication about half an hour earlier and that he'll be waking up anytime now. They wait in companionable silence until twenty minutes later when Marco groans and pries his eyes open. 

Things go fast after that, doctors and nurses coming in and out of the room, all running a million different tests. 

For all the complaining Marco used to do when they spent time in his Med tent, he was honestly a terrible patient. He always had been, it was worse now though. Now it was like every time someone who wasn't Buck or Casey interacted with him he almost lost his shit. At one point one of the nurses suggested they leave the room for a bit and Marco refused to comply with any of the medical professionals until he got confirmation that Buck and Casey weren't going anywhere. 

He behaved after that, but just barely. Not that Buck could really blame him. Buck had wanted to throw a fit too when the Doctor had asked him to wiggle his toes and it'd been a struggle to manage even that. Then the man had seemed encouraged by that. Marco had looked like he wanted to strangle the doctor for his upbeat attitude. 

He remembered how it'd been after his leg had been crushed by the ladder truck. Buck was right there with him on this. 

"They should at least let me take my own blood." Marco grumbled as the last nurse was leaving the room having just taken another tube of blood. 

"C'mon Ma, you know that isn't how it works." Casey soothed, taking a seat next to him against the headboard. 

Buck moved to sit criss cross applesauce at their feet. "Yeah, I mean, imagine if I was allowed to take my own blood. It'd end up everywhere." 

"That's true." Marco assented, sighing as he leaned back against the pillows, "So, I've been informed that it's been six years, I guess I should ask what I've missed?" 

Casey and him exchanged a look, neither of them entirely sure where to start. 

"Well, one direction broke up." Buck informed him, figuring that was pretty neutral territory to start, "But they're all doing pretty well in the music industry now, especially Harry, except Zayn who got with Gigi Hadid I think." 

Marco gave him a confused look, "What the fuck are you talking about?" 

"He's updating you on pop culture." Casey snickered, "Although I'm not really sure why since that wasn't exactly your area of expertise before you went MIA." 

"Ok fine." Buck shrugged, he could switch topics easily enough, "Scientists captured the first ever photo of a black hole. It's actually really cool." 

Marco shot a fond look his way, "I'm sure it is Kid, but I meant maybe some more personal updates." 

"Oh." Buck said, chuckling at his mistake, "Whoops." 

"Well, not much has changed with me." Casey shrugs, "I'm with a pretty good team now, but I had to go through some clowns before I found the right fits for each position. It's been good the last couple years, but I'm getting old. They offered me a position training recruits for the SEALs and I've been thinking I might take it." 

Buck hadn't actually known that last bit. He hoped she did take it that way she'd be closer to him. Also so she'd just generally be safer. 

"You should take the job." Marco said, voice heavy, "Get the fuck out of the field while you still can." 

A heavy air overtook the room at his words. Buck felt it settle into his bones, that same sort of icy fear he'd felt after his team had been killed. That clawing at the confines of his cage feeling like there was a ticking clock that was running out of time. Like if he didn't get out right at that moment then he'd never get out. Casey had been the opposite, she'd absolutely buried herself in missions and didn't come up for air. Those first three years after the funeral he hadn't heard from her other than a recurring Christmas card once a year. 

Marco cleared his throat and turned to Buck, "What about you? Are you still active?" 

"Uh, no. After everyone, you know, died, I sort of lost it for a bit, got offered a place in the reserves. I haven't actually been deployed since, not until this mission." He shrugged, "I live in LA now, that's half the reason we're in California. I actually got a job working for the LAFD." 

Recognition sparked in Marco's eyes at that last bit, "Do you- Is Luca-?" He stuttered out, seemingly unable to figure out how to word the question about his brother. 

"Yeah, he's here. You'll see him soon." Buck assured the man, placing a reassuring hand on Marco's ankle even though he wasn't sure the man could actually feel it, "He's still with the LAFD, still partnered with Lena too. They both helped me put my life together after everything, helped me get through the training to join up with them. I ended up at a different house than them though, the 118. I was considering transferring over to their house after my probationary year, but I ended up sort of finding a home with the 118." 

Buck felt a little out of breath after he finished, like he'd just shared a big secret and wasn't sure how he was going to react to it.

"They're my family, you know? But they aren't like you guys, no one could ever replace you guys. It's just different." He stuttered out and Marco gave him a soft understanding look, leaning forward to place a hand on Buck's knee and cutting off his rambling. 

"I'm glad you haven't been alone." He said, looking a bit teary eyed, and Buck felt his eyes well with tears too. "Can you tell me about them?" 

"You'll get to meet them soon." He told the other man, and Casey cleared her throat. 

"I think you mean we'll both meet them soon." She corrects. 

"Wait, you haven't met them?"  Marco asks her, looking confused. 

"No, that would require him to have actually told them that he was a SEAL." Casey snarked at Buck. 

"Which I have done now, so yes, you'll both meet them soon." He assured them both, rolling his eyes at Casey's dramatics. "Not that you have room to talk, I haven't even seen pictures of your team." 

"My team isn't my family." She points out in return, "Besides, I don't keep photos or keepsakes. You know that." 

That was true actually. Buck and Casey had gone through a very similar ordeal when the team died, her having lost her husband and him having lost his fiancé. Plus they'd lost their best friends and family all in one fell swoop. Despite going through the same thing, they'd reacted very differently. Casey had buried herself in being a SEAL while Buck had wanted nothing to do with it anymore. Buck had hoarded keepsakes and photos like treasures, Casey had burned all of hers. She'd stopped keeping any photos or keepsakes after that. 

Buck kept some of her old ones that he'd been able to save though, both for himself and just in case she ever wanted them again. He wasn't sure if she would, but he had them anyways. 

"Can I see your pictures?" Marco asked him, and Buck moved over to grab his pack. 

"Most of them are on my phone which I don't have." He explained as he pulled out the thin envelope, "But I brought a couple that were on my fridge."

He handed the stack to him and watched Marco sift through them, holding up a photo every once in a while for an explanation. 

"Is this-?" He asked, holding up a photo of him and Maddie at the Griffith observatory. 

"Yeah. That's my sister Maddie." He grinned, "She's back now. She lives in LA too and works as a 9-1-1 dispatcher. She's actually with one of my teammates, Chimney." He shuffled through until he found a photo with the man in question and pointed him out, "They're super good for each other." 

Marco nodded, filing away that information as he kept looking through every detail of the photos meticulously. 

"This is your team, right?" He asked, holding out a photo with all of them at one of the Christmas events the 118 had hosted. 

"Yeah, that's Hen, she's a kickass paramedic, you'll love her. Chimney, also a kickass paramedic, and very movie obsessed and goofier than Hen. Eddie, he's, uh, he's my partner, and also an ex-army medic. Then there's me. There's Athena, she's Bobby's wife and a badass police sergeant. Then there's Bobby, he's our captain, and also sort of a father figure to me." He explained as he pointed to each of them, "Then you already know Maddie." 

"And these people, they're good for him?" Marco asked, turning to Casey who snickered. 

"Yeah, they're great for him. I haven't actually met them, but I've seen how he is because he knows them. Plus I stalked them all for a bit, they're good folks." She shrugged. 

Buck just rolled his eyes having already expected her to have done so. He'd background checked everyone he knew of that Casey was working with too, in all fairness. 

"Good to know." Marco nodded, "So what about anyone special, either of you find someone?" 

Casey shook her head, "Nothing in the dating front for me." She said with a shrug, which had been something that'd been true since Eli died. "Buck's gone and found his second soulmate though, not that he'll admit that's what they are." 

"I'll admit it." Buck rolled his eyes good naturedly and Casey jolted upright from where she'd joined Marco in settling back against the pillows. 

"What?! Did something finally happen with you two?!!!!" She exclaimed, reaching forward to shake him by his uninjured shoulder, "And you didn't tell me?!" 

"I got distracted, but yeah, something sort of did happen." He shrugged, looking down to hide the blush. 

"Details, now Buckley!" She ordered and Marco nodded. 

"Yes, give us details. Unless the something that happened was sexual, then please don't give details." Marco said, startling a laugh out of both him and Casey.

"Don't worry, he grew out of his slut phase." Casey assures the man, who looks absolutely gobsmacked, which was a bit of an overreaction in Buck's opinion. 

"Anyways." He said, redirecting the conversation before Casey could start really exposing his 'Buck 1.0' exploits, "Before I left we had a talk and sort of agreed that we wanted to be something more. I said we should wait until I got back though, that it wasn't fair to either of us for me to leave and maybe never come back right after we'd started something." 

Casey looked elated at the news, muttering a triumphant "Finally!" 

Marco on the other hand was gaping at him, "Are you serious?" The man asked and Buck felt suddenly nervous that Marco might be angry that he'd moved on after Madhu died. 

"I- yeah?" He shrugged, not entirely sure where this was going. 

"You decided to walk into a situation you weren't sure you'd walk back out of without even getting to kiss the person you're in love with?!" Marco said, voice shocked and outraged. 

Buck rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "I mean, I thought it was the mature adult thing to do, but when you say it like that-"

"You sound like an idiot?" Marco butt in, pinning Buck with a knowing glare, "Who is this 'second soulmate' of yours anyways? Do you have a picture?"

"Uh, yeah, it's Eddie." Buck answered, shuffling through the photos to find a better photo of Eddie. "He's- like I said he's my partner, just not only at work." He shrugged, holding out one of his favorite photos of him and Eddie at the Photo Booth from May's graduation party.

“Wow, he’s quite a looker.” Marco grinned at him and waved the photo around a bit. 

Buck groaned, “God, that’s such a mom thing to say.” 

Marco made a disgruntled noise at that, but then Casey jumped up excitedly, a shark’s grin on her face. Buck had no idea what she was about to say but he groaned preemptively at the expression. 

“Guess what!” She said to Marco, practically vibrating in glee. 

“What?” Marco asked, a tentative and confused smile on his face. 

“Kid here,” she did a drumroll on her thighs before announcing, “Has made you a grandmother!” 

Marco gasped and Buck groaned, though a part of him warmed at having Chris referred to as his. It always did that though, so he ignored it and focused on his feigned annoyance. 

“You have a fucking kid!” Marco exclaimed, “What? Who? How?!” 

“Uh, well, his name’s Chris and he’s the greatest kid in the whole world.” Buck started, pulling a couple different photos of Chris from the pile and handing them over to Marco, “He’s Eddie’s kid technically, but Eddie and I have sort of been coparenting for years.” 

“You’ve been coparenting with a man you weren’t in a relationship with for years?” Marco questioned, sounding incredulous. 

“It’s real, I swear. I’m not just, like, injecting myself into their family narrative” Buck rushed to assure him, “I’m like, in Eddie’s will and I’m on the list at his school and his doctors offices and stuff. It’s real, we’re real.” 

Casey ‘awed’ at the speech, and Marco shook his head looking painfully fond of Buck, “As sweet as that is, it wasn’t the part that I was questioning. I’m wondering why you aren’t already together.” 

“Oh.” Buck huffed, shrugging, “I don’t know, it’s complicated I guess.” 

“He was a pussy and wouldn’t own up to his feelings for the guy.” Casey said, which was not very helpful. 

“Hey!” He huffed, reaching forward to pinch her knee. 

“I said ‘was’!” She exclaimed, kicking him so he almost fell off the bed. 

“Children! Children!” Marco held out his hands placatingly, “What if we didn’t fight on my literal hospital bed!” 

“Fine.” Both and Casey muttered, crossing their arms like they really were petulant children. 

Marco looked between them and burst out laughing so hard that the nurses rushed back into the room to make sure nothing was wrong. 

…………………………………………

Two days later they finally sprung Marco free of the hospital. He was in a wheel chair and had a long long road of physical therapy and doctors appointments in front of him. They were hopeful that he’d be able to walk again someday. He’d never get back the full function he had, but the doctors said that the long term damage of the paralytics was mostly temporary and the fact that he’d skipped leg day for six years could eventually be helped by exercise and strength training.

Buck remembered his own stint of physical therapy and training after his leg had been crushed. It’d been rough, but he’d gotten through it, in part because of his steel resolve, which Marco definitely had, but also because of his family, which Buck was determined to give him. Marco would be alright. He’d make sure of it. 

Casey had two weeks of leave left before she had to go back. She’d also already filled out half the paperwork to accept the position training recruits. Hopefully she’d get to start in 3-6 months if all went well. Then she’d be living only 3 hours away, which would be good for both Marco and him. 

Since she was staying, Buck and her decided it’d be best for her to rent a car. Partly so that way it would be easier for her to get around without them having to share his jeep, which would’ve been fine with him just a bit impractical. Plus then Marco wouldn’t have to deal with any form of public transportation, even if it was just an Uber to pick up Buck’s jeep from his apartment. He had barely tolerated the staff working at the military hospital, Buck didn’t want to find out how badly thing s would go with members of the general public. 

First stop was the 136. A reunion that should’ve happened a lot sooner but the military was being a little bitch about letting Marco go. They let him go now though, so they went to the 136.

Casey and he had discussed the plan ahead of time. Buck would get dropped off first, sort of explain the situation a bit and give Luca a heads up so he didn’t have a heart attack or something. Casey would park the car and get Marco into his wheelchair and they’d be in a minute after Buck. 

For once, things went perfectly to plan. 

Buck marched into the 136 with a grin splitting his face. Thankfully they weren’t out on a call, so Luca spotted him and bound over to pull him into a hug. 

“Hey, you’re back!” Luca said, grinning, “And mostly in one piece too!” 

“Yeah!” Buck agreed, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder, “Hey man, listen I’ve got a bit of a surprise for you.”

“Is Casey here too?” Luca asked. 

“Uh, yeah, but that’s not really the surprise.” Buck said, and suddenly he felt incredibly awkward, like even though this was amazing news he still wasn’t really sure how to break it. 

“Ok, consider me intrigued,” Luca chuckled, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “What’s the surprise?” 

“Uh, well- the mission- it-” He stuttered out before he just decided to rip the bandage off, “We found Marco.” 

Luca’s expression went through several emotions too fast for Buck to keep up before he started nodding, clearing his throat and saying, “Oh, um, that’s good. Thank you, Kid. I guess we can finally bury him now.” 

Which, no. Luca had misunderstood. “No, he’s- we found him alive.” Buck clarified. 

Luca immediately took a step back, shaking his head, “No, I- that isn’t funny, Buck. Stop that now.” 

“It isn’t a joke Luca. I swear.” Buck took a step closer, trying to reassure the man who was looking near tears at this point. 

“No, it- it can’t be-” 

“Luca?” A voice called out, and Buck watched Luca’s eyes snap to something over his left shoulder. 

Buck turned around and saw Marco sitting in his wheelchair by the open garage door, looking just as shocked as his brother. 

“Marco?” Luca whispered, voice wavering and unsure as his feet carried him towards his brother, he looked like he was floating through a dream, “I- is that you?” 

Marco let out a wet laugh as his brother hit the floor on his knees in front of him, their arms wrapped around each other in a death grip. 

“I’m home.” Buck heard Marco say, though it sounded like a promise more than anything else. “I’m home and I’m not leaving ever again.” 

Luca just buried his face in his brother’s shoulder and cried. The both of them did, terrible big heaving sobs that felt like a weight being lifted from all of them. 

“Hey, Buckley! I heard you were- woah.” Lena slid to a stop next to him, eyes bugging out of her head as she took in the two brothers, “Is that-?”

“Yeah.” Buck confirmed with a nod, wiping away some of his own tears. “We found Marco.” 

“That’s amazing.” Lena murmured, a soft smile gracing her features. 

“Yeah it is.” Buck agreed before clearing his throat and asking, “Hey, can you go talk to your Captain about getting Luca some time off. Starting now.” 

“Yeah.” She nodded before turning on her heels and jogging towards the Captains office. 

Buck wasn’t worried about the request going through, Captain Cooper was a good guy. He’d make sure the Tripoli brothers got all they needed. 

………………………………………..

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” He asked for the third time as they pulled up outside Bobby and Athena’s house.

“Nope. Besides, I have to get back on shift. Have a nice reunion though.” Lena waved him off, having been nice enough to drive him over to where his family was having a barbecue at the Grant-Nash household. 

He counted off each of his friends and family’s cars lining the driveway as he hopped out of the passenger seat of Lena’s truck. They were all here. 

“Thanks!” He waved after her as she drove off. 

He headed up the path, suddenly feeling sort of nervous and jittery in a way he usually didn’t around his family. It was mostly centered around Eddie though. The man who he had made the mistake of not kissing before he deployed. The man who had every intention of kissing as soon as he got his hands on him now. 

He knew they’d all already be hanging out in the backyard, so he didn’t bother with knocking on the front door. Instead he just let himself in, walking down the entryway stairs and taking in the sight of his family all mingling and having a good time through the glass doors into the backyard. 

There was a noise from inside though, the sound of someone rummaging around in the fridge and then the clinking of a glass bottle. He heard it be popped open and then footsteps. Eddie came into view then, with his back turned and headed for the glass doors to rejoin the party. 

Buck sucked in a breath and it was loud enough for Eddie to turn around, smile breaking out on his face at the site of him. That was all Buck needed to cross the room in a couple of long strides, pinning Eddie against the table and kissing him soundly. 

It was a sudden firm press of lips that Eddie gasped into, melting into Buck almost immediately. Then they were really kissing, not exactly an end of the world kiss, more like a welcome home after a long journey. It was fervent, lips and tongues moving against each other, exploring new parts of a person they already knew so well. 

It wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. His lips were sort of chapped, there was an awkward clashing of teeth at the beginning, and he could feel the stitches in his shoulder pulling from where Eddie was holding him and tugging him impossibly closer. It was perfect to Buck though, and if the way Eddie moaned happily into his mouth was anything to go by, then it was perfect for him too. 

“Hey, Dad, can I- Buck!” The only voice in the world that could possibly break him away from Eddie right now exclaimed. 

He pulled back suddenly, and there was Chris sticking his head in through an opening in the sliding glass door. His eyes were bugging out of his head for a second in shock before he was suddenly scrabbling to get the door open more. 

“Buck!” He exclaimed a lot louder this time, rushing towards him as fast as his little legs and crutches would allow him, “You’re back!”

Buck scooped Chris up immediately and the little boy threw his arms around Buck’s neck and giggled happily as he was swung around in a circle. 

“Yeah, Superman, I’m back.” Buck said, burying his face in Chris’s curls. 

There was a clamor from outside and suddenly people were pouring in through the sliding glass doors. Excited exclamations ringing out at his return, and he started hugging everyone. 

“You’re limping.” Bobby pointed out, looking concerned around his grin as Buck moved to hug Hen. 

“I got shot.” Buck waved him off, moving to hug Athena next, “I’m fine though, it’s a flesh wound.” 

“Uh, we’ll be the judges of that.” Chim said, swooping in for his own hug. 

“In a minute.” Buck agreed, knowing better than to argue with them. 

He hugged all of them at least three times each before things really started to calm down. Then they all settled in on the couches, Buck sitting next to Eddie who had an arm slung over his shoulder and with Chris practically in his lap. It was nice. 

“So how much can you tell us?” Athena asked, all business except for her happy and relieved demeanor. 

“I can tell you everything.” He grinned, glad that that was the answer he could give, “Plus it’ll all be on the news soon enough.” 

“Forget about the news.” Eddie said, “I’d rather hear it from you.” 

Buck laughed at that, knowing part of Eddie’s disinterest with the news had to do with a fling he’d had with a certain red haired reporter. 

“Good, because I have a lot to tell you.”