Chapter Text
It wasn’t unusual for the Chief of the Los Angeles Fire Department to make a personal visit to the firehouses from time to time. And for some reason, Chief Williams made frequent visits to the 118. It usually happened after unwarranted press (thanks to Taylor Kelly's meddling), or when she came to touch base after a major event. Or when a certain blue-eyed blonde ended up doing something stupid and reckless, like climbing a 100+ tall ladder in the middle of a city-wide sniper attack.
So, when Chief Williams strolled into the 118 on a bright Monday morning with a couple of individuals in business attire, all eyes were on Buck.
“What did you do this time?” Hen asked suspiciously.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied with a shrug. “I haven’t done anything stupid in a while.”
“Chief Williams,” Bobby greeted with a handshake as they topped the stairs to the loft. “This is quite a surprise.”
“I come with good news, Captain Nash,” she replied. “Would now be a good time to meet, privately?”
Bobby nodded and gestured towards his office, following the chief and their visitors in and letting the door close with a crisp snap . Confused, Buck, Eddie, Hen, and Chimney all gave each other a look of wonder.
“Good news?” Chim asked. “Does this mean the restraining order against Buck’s ex-girlfriend finally went into effect?”
“Hardy har har,” Buck replied dryly with a roll of an eye. It wasn’t a secret how the 118 felt against Taylor, especially after the trainwreck that happened after the Jonah ordeal. He hadn’t thought about her in months, and while he was still salty about what had transpired after, he wasn’t going to sink to their level of disdain.
“Does anybody have a guess what they’re talking about in there?” Eddie said as they call took seats in the lounge closest to their captain’s office, hoping to hear a snippet of what was being discussed behind closed doors.
“Maybe a grant for a new truck?” Buck suggested. “Or some kind of award?”
“Yeah, like any of us have done anything remotely reward-worthy in a minute,” Hen scoffed. The three boys looked at her with a wounded expression.
“I’ll have you know, I feel like each day we do something award-worthy,” Buck said indignantly.
“Getting to climb into a tree and rescue a cat isn’t award-worthy, Buckaroo, it’s a cliche,” Chim replied.
Hen and Eddie laughed and Buck rolled his eyes, flopping down dramatically and flipping Chimney the bird. They glanced over at the door, their conversation turning serious.
“Do…do you think Cap is retiring?” Buck said, a worried expression coming across his face. “Has he said anything about it to anybody? Hen?” He looked over at his favorite paramedic. “Has Athena told you anything?”
“I don’t think Cap is even close to retiring, Buck,” Hen replied, shaking her head. “I think this is something bigger than that. Didn’t you see who the Chief was with?” The other three firefighters shook their heads and Hen rolled her eyes. “Of course, silly me, thinking you all paid any attention to politics.”
“Why the hell would somebody in politics be meddling with a firehouse and their business?” Buck questioned.
“It’s the government, Buck,” Chim replied. “They meddle in everything. ”
“There could be some new bill passed that could affect us,” Eddie chimed in, looking at Hen for some kind of confirmation. “Or they could just be getting a tour of different places in the city. It’s not uncommon.”
The meeting behind closed doors only lasted about 20 minutes, and soon, Bobby’s office door was being swung up with another flurry of handshakes and nice-to-meet-you’s and the Chief bade the firefighters goodbye. Bobby escorted them to the door, and had Eddie and Buck rally the rest of the A-Shift crew to the loft for a brief meeting.
“Alright,” Bobby started after they had all gathered around the lounge area, “starting next week, the 118 will be hosting some members of the City Counsel, Chief Williams, a few representatives from our District, and the Press.” He paused as a collective groan at the mention of the press and he raised a hand to silence them. “We’ve been selected out of all the stations in Los Angeles to receive the first Safe Haven Baby Box in the state of California.”
There was a murmur amongst the crowd and Eddie and Buck shared a look of confusion. “Uh, what’s a Baby Box?” Buck asked.
“The Safe Haven Baby Box is a project that has come from the Safe Haven laws,” Bobby explained. “It provides an option for mothers with newborns to safely surrender their child - for whatever reason that may be - without the need of face-to-face interaction or the judgment of anybody.”
“And this isn’t a thing already in the state?” Hen asked in surprise.
“Apparently not,” Bobby replied. “It could be an efficient tool for our community, especially for the youth or anybody who's struggling. This program allows women to be protected and saves a baby from being abandoned in a street alley or worse. And I know that having the press in the firehouse is not ideal -” he gave Buck a glance, which resulted in the blonded throwing his hands up in exasperation. “But this is something that I want all of you to look at and be proud that our house was chosen to represent such an important cause. All of you made this possible. So, let’s get this place looking spotless. And we’re all going to have to do some extra training to prepare for this. Once Chief Williams and I go through the paperwork and get things into motion, I’ll let you all know more. Dismissed.”
There was a rumble of chatter as the A-Shift crew went back to what they were doing and Bobby made his way to the kitchen to prepare lunch for the team. Of course, Buck, being the ever-walking Wikipedia of the station, had immediately gone into research mode, and before the end of the day, his friends never wanted to hear the words “Safe Haven” come from Buck’s mouth again.
The next day, a construction team from the city came and started the renovation, taking an unused utility closet that sat directly against the side of the firehouse. It was somewhat soundproofed, due to the loudness of the alarms that would go off at any given minute and to protect the infant’s ears. And on the outside of the building, a tiny door had been installed, where an equally tiny, clear bin sat big enough for a newborn baby to sit, padded and with a soft yellow blanket folded neatly inside. On top of it was an information packet for the mother to fill out if they so chose that gave a brief medical history of the baby and mama, as well as information about their rights under the Safe Haven Laws.
News crews and various members of the city and state government were constantly in and out of the firehouse, speaking with the firefighters either in informational sessions or to interview them on their thoughts of the project and asking for demonstrations on what would potentially happen if a baby was left at the 118.
If a mother was in need to surrender her child, she would simply walk up to the side of the firehouse, which was in a well-lit area and easily accessible from the side of the building. She would open the door, and bundle the baby in the blanket provided before placing the child in the small, clear bin that resembled the beds that were in the hospitals once they were born. They would then take the information packet full of paperwork about their rights and resources, and if they so choose, a small questionnaire to provide any medical information about the child.
As soon as the door from the outside would lock, an alarm would sound off in the station, signaling that a child had been surrendered. It was something that Buck and the rest of their team prayed no young woman in the city ever felt the need to use.
But being 2023, that prayer was of course left unanswered.
About two months after the Safe Haven Baby Box had been announced and the press had run their stories on it, they received their first surrender.
It was almost 2 in the morning, and A-Shift was almost through their 24-hour shift. It had been…well, Buck wasn’t even going to say the Q-word in his mind, because he was positive even the fire gods could sense the word being thought . He was taking the peaceful night, and for some reason hadn’t been able to fall asleep as quickly as his comrades had. Which was why he was currently in the kitchen, making himself a cup of hot chocolate in hopes that it would help bring on the drowsiness.
He had just added the chocolate mix to his hot milk and was stirring it together when an alarm suddenly started to blare through the building. It was as loud as the usual call alarm, but it was still loud enough to make a couple of people emerge from the bunk room, rubbing their eyes and drunkenly trying to pull on shoes.
Buck joined Eddie and Bobby at the bottom of the loft, who was looking at him like he set something off, but seeing Buck’s equally confused look, abandoned that thought. But then Buck saw the red light blinking above the door leading into the Safe Haven room, and his stomach suddenly dropped.
That’s what the alarm was for.
“Alright guys, head back to bed,” Bobby called. “Hen, Eddie, come with me.”
Hen had already made her way towards the door, disarming the blaring sound and flashing light. Eddie followed Bobby, Buck trailing not too far behind them, causing their captain to look at him with a raised brow.
Buck shrugged. “I was still up,” he said. “I’m more awake than you three.”
Bobby didn’t reply, but led the two men to the door and opened it. Out of all the scenes they had been on and assessed, this was one of the most surreal and peaceful ones. The room was just as it always was, the only new addition being the sleeping figure that had been messily bundled in the clear crib-like bin. Hen picked the infant up carefully, moving her to the table on the opposite side of the room as she and Eddie checked to make sure nothing was wrong.
Buck moved closer to where the baby had lain, finding a loose piece of paper attached to the medical history form with a bright pink paperclip. In a loopy, feminine script, the note was smeared from tear stains, but still legible read:
She was born two days ago. I thought I could give her a life, but she honestly deserves better. I was too afraid to tell my parents about her, and she wouldn’t be safe with them. Her father doesn’t know she exists. This is her only chance for a good life.
I’ve been calling her April after the month she was born.
Buck looked at the medical history questionnaire, but it was mostly blank, just that her mother’s side had heart issues. He flipped the paper over, and it had been blank as well. He handed both pieces to Bobby, who read the note with a hint of sadness on his face before leaving the room, most likely to inform the hospital and child services that the 118 had gotten their first Safe Haven baby.
Buck took a step closer to Hen and Eddie, who were wrapping up their physical of the baby. They had removed the blanket, revealing a little girl in a soft pink onesie still fast asleep. For a baby that was only two days old, she had a head of dirty blonde hair, some spots in the back just fuzzy enough to cover. She was so tiny , Buck thought, and if he didn’t physically see her yawn and watch the fall and rise of her chest, he would have thought she was fake.
He honestly shouldn’t be surprised - Jee-Yun was once that small, but this little one looked slightly premature, which Hen confirmed.
“She looks like she might be about 34, or 36 weeks?” she was saying quietly. “But her breathing sounds okay, so her lungs were fully formed. She should be alright, though.”
“She was born two days ago,” Buck replied, not taking his eyes off the little girl. She looked so peaceful, and Buck could only hope that wherever her mother was, she felt the same and that her baby was in good hands. “Uh, the mom…she’d left a note with the questionnaire thing. Bobby has it.”
“Did the mom fill anything out on it?” Eddie asked, still listening to the infant’s lungs through his stethoscope.
“Just that heart disease ran on the mom’s side.” He reached out, his love of kids in general instinct in full force as he brushed the baby’s plastered bangs off her forehead. She looked like a porcelain doll, curled up, eyes closed, not a worry in the world. “She had been calling her April.”
“Makes sense,” Hen said, checking her vital signs. “The mother didn’t want to get too attached to her, but still needed to name her something. So she chose the month she was born in.”
April (as they had silently agreed to refer to her as) shifted in her sleep, and Eddie and Hen froze from their assessment, not wanting to wake her. Both paramedics knew the repercussions of waking an infant child, and if they weren’t awake now, they definitely would have been if she woke up and started to squall as infants did. Her face scrunched up, seemingly fighting the sleep and the urge to awaken. In her sleep, she moved her arms, and Buck had been in the process of retracting his hand when her tiny hand connected with his index finger and gripped it tight.
Buck froze, and for some reason, felt his heart completely soar as April settled back down, not letting go of his finger. He watched her fall back into a deep slumber, and eventually, the grip on him loosened as she tucked her hands back toward her face. It wasn’t any secret that Buck loved kids. He was affectionately known to all of the fire family’s children as “Uncle Buck,” (except for Christopher, who saw him more as another dad). And looking down at the little girl in her pink onesie peacefully sleeping, Buck wondered for a moment what it would be like to have a blonde-haired, blue-eyed little kid running around calling him, “Daddy.”
God, is this how women felt when they had “baby fever”?
“How is our new addition?” Bobby asked as returned to the room.
“Vitals are good,” Hen responded. “Lungs sound good, a strong heartbeat. A little on the premature side, but overall, I think she’ll be just fine.”
“Good. Valley Presbyterian has been called, and DSS will meet you there.” He glanced around the room and gave Buck an amused look. “You alright, Buck?”
“He’s fine, Cap,” Eddie said. “I think he’s just slowly falling in love.”
Buck finally pulled his gaze away from baby April. “Somebody needs to,” he muttered.
“Buck, we discussed this,” Bobby said pointedly. “You can’t get attached to all of them. We’re here to offer them safety, and then Child Services will place them into the foster system with a family that will take care of them.”
“I know,” Buck replied. “I just…it’s different from being trained and seeing it. She doesn’t have anybody.” He looked over at the sleeping form. “She deserves to be loved. Regardless.”
He didn’t see Eddie and Hen exchange a knowing look. He was thinking of his own childhood, growing up with parents who didn’t exactly want him. Eddie had been at the receiving end of several of Buck’s drunken wonders of how he would have turned out if his parents had put him up for adoption, or had completely abandoned him after the attempt to save Daniel had failed. It was the reason that Buck doted upon all the kids in their makeshift family. He didn’t want any of them to ever feel an ounce of the misery he had growing up.
“Come on, Buck,” Bobby said, finally pulling the younger firefighter from the room. “I’ll make sure Chief Williams gets an update with Child Services on how she’s doing in a couple of days. Hen, Eddie, get her ready for transport.”
“On it, Cap,” Hen replied, and she and Eddie bundled April in the yellow blanket, and Eddie cradled her in his arms as they made their way to the ambulance, Bobby and Buck watching from a distance.
Buck knew what his captain was saying was true. He had gone through the training preparing for the Baby Box. He knew with his childhood past it was going to be hard for him to see a child just thrown to the side, even though he completely understood that everybody’s situations were going to be different. He didn’t know what April’s mother's history was. It was obvious from her note that April would not have been safe in her current environment, and she didn’t want whatever life she had lived for her baby girl. It was the most selfless thing that young girl could have done, Buck thought, and his heart ached for the two. He couldn’t imagine being able to abandon somebody like that, and for that April’s mother was stronger than he ever would be.
The flashing of the ambulance's lights as they left the station brought him back to reality. He let out a heavy sigh, and Bobby clapped his shoulder in sympathy.
“It’ll get easier,” he promised. “Come on, I’ll make us some hot chocolate and maybe we can get some sleep.”
Buck nodded, and as Bobby turned to head the loft, he could only pray that wherever little April ended, she was loved and wanted, and had the best life that her mother had hoped for.