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Two days after Evan tells Chase Mackey to go fuck himself, he finds himself awoken by sunlight streaming through the windows of the loft. He's made it a habit, since he's been on leave, to get up around midday- only, it's not midday right now, the sun is just barely peeking from behind the horizon. Which means it's going to be a long day. A bad day.
Evan's had a lot of bad days since the truck bombing. Three months worth of bad days, actually, and so he's used to it, by now; used to the dread pooling in his stomach before he even rises out of bed, even checks his phone. Not that he needs to check it- no one is checking in on him. Though, no one was really checking in on him before the lawsuit, anyway. Before, he could pretend it was just that they were all busy -the life of a firefighter, of a parent, was busy and it doesn't fly over Evan's head just how many of the people in his life are both, a fact that's always amazed him- but now the silence on the other side of the phone feels pointed and poignant. Not for the first time he hears the voices of his friends, his family, hissing at him: We don't need you, Buck. Certainly not after what you told that lawyer about us. How can we ever trust you with something personal again, let alone to have our backs at work?
None of them have said the words. They're too nice. Sometimes, Buck wishes they weren't.
At least if they yelled at him he could have a reason for the sharp ache in his chest every time he thinks about trying to reach out to them.
A different kind of ache twinges in his calf as he shifts in bed and he hisses, reaching under the cover to massage his leg. He'd gotten the screws messing him up taken out a few days ago and, while the pain was considerably much less than that of being crushed by a fire engine, it still hurts. The second aneurism wasn't even surprising, really. The doctors told him not to stress himself out so much, but he's never been one to listen to doctor's orders before, and he figured he wouldn't change now, major life-changing injury and all. At least the second one helped them figure out what was wrong in the first place- faulty hardware was to blame for the blood clots. Another surgery and another full prescription of blood thinners with the promise to come back at the end of the month to make sure he's actually good this time later, and he'd been booted out of the hospital just in time to humiliate himself in a conference room in an LA county meeting room. He'd insisted on hiding his crutches, so the team didn't know he was injured again, only for that stubbornness to backfire when shit goes sideways, as it tends to do in his life. He'd been forced to watch the 118 storm off, pissed, and do nothing. By time he told Chase to fuck off and gathered his things and hobbled into the hall with his crutches, they'd already been long gone.
Which is how he finds himself here, in his apartment, alone, holding his leg with a white-knuckled grip, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.
It doesn't actually hurt a lot. Not anymore. But there are times where his leg cramps, pain rocketing through his body, and he feels his blood pressure spike- fear takes over, when that happens, the voice in his head telling him he's having another blood clot and about to die. Now is one of those times. The pain threatens to drag him down, suck him under, but unlike when he's usually in pain, this time he doesn't look for an out; he'd been prescribed some pretty heavy painkillers, he could take one and let sleep wash over him, envelop him until midday when he normally wakes up. He could stretch out his legs a bit, go for a walk or a run around the block. He could do a lot of things.
But he deserves the pain, deserves to sit in it, and so he does.
Three days after Evan tells Chase Mackey to go fuck himself, he finds himself once again awoken by sunlight streaming through the windows of the loft. Absently, he wonders if he should buy curtains- wonders how he hasn't bought them sooner, with how much he likes his sleep. But he's always been a light sleeper; this restlessness, the early rising, it's new. He supposes there's something to be said about rest after the constant hustle-and-bustle of his lifestyle. Almost immediately after dismissing the idea of getting curtains because he doesn't want to go through the effort of also finding a ladder to help him hang said curtains, Evan feels the twinge of pain at the incision site on his leg and sucks in a breath. Almost immediately after that, he notices that he isn't alone in the loft.
"You better not have morning wood. My kid's downstairs."
Eddie Diaz is just as handsome as the first day Evan laid eyes on him, and Evan can't help the ache in his chest. He wants to offer a cocky smirk, ask, "What if he wasn't here? Would you offer to help out?" but Eddie isn't supposed to be here, and neither is Chris. This must be a dream. A sick, horrible, painful dream. He rolls over with a grunt, deciding going back to sleep will make this all go away, but before his eyes are even closed again the blankets are being ripped off of him, exposing his shirtless body to the frigid AC in the loft. He curses, scrambling to grab the blankets before they're out of reach, but he's too late. They've already been deposited on the floor at the foot of the bed, Eddie staring at him unamusedly with his arms crossed over his broad chest. With a huff, Evan sits up, suddenly very aware of the medical tape and gauze wrapped around his calf just under his knee. He doesn't give the other man the satisfaction of asking any questions, speaking up first, his voice gruff from misuse; it occurs to him that he hasn't actually spoken to anyone except the odd delivery person in the three days since the lawsuit came to an abrupt end.
"What are you doing here? I gave you that key for emergencies,"
"It is an emergency. Get dressed and get your ass downstairs."
Eddie doesn't say anything, just turns on his heels and makes his way down the stairs, and Buck can only watch, dumbfounded, as he does so. He stays like that for what feels like an eternity, wondering if this really is happening or if it's some vivid dream, but then Chris shouts at him to come downstairs, snapping him out of his thoughts and he crawls out of bed. Pulling on a shirt and a pair of shorts, Evan contemplates grabbing the pair of crutches leaning against the wall by the bed for a moment; Eddie was sure to have seen them, god knows how long he was standing there before Evan woke up, but for all he knew they were just sitting there because he had nowhere else to put them. Evan is only a week out of surgery, and was told to use the crutches until he felt more solid on his feet, and as much as he hates to admit it, he really isn't all that solid right about now. But using them would be a sign of weakness, it would show Eddie that he wasn't strong, that he was injured again, and if Eddie knew then Bobby would know, and he'd just think he was right all along, and-
He decides to forgo the crutches, just to save a little face since he doesn't have a lot going for him in that department, and makes his way -slowly- down the stairs.
Chris is at his side almost immediately, considerably faster than Evan is at the moment, and he hugs him with so much strength it knocks the wind out of him. He grunts, grimacing in discomfort ever-so-slightly, but he pulls the boy close to his chest, hand on the back of his head so he doesn't see the look on his face. "Buck! I missed you so much!"
"I missed you, too, buddy! What- What're you doin' here? Your dad didn't say we were hanging out today."
"That's because we weren't planning to. I know you need your rest," Eddie stresses the back half of that statement, his eyes saying play along, he doesn't know, and Evan swallows back what he wanted to say in return. "But Pepa called and said there was an emergency and she can't take him today like she promised, and Abuela is visiting my parents, so I can't bring him to her, so...he's all yours for the day."
Eddie looks like he smells something sour, like the very idea of leaving his son with Buck is disgusting, and Evan's chest aches. There used to be a time where Eddie would jump at the opportunity for Evan to come hang out with Chris. Evan nods slowly, letting Chris go when he starts to wiggle out of his grip, and clears his throat. "Not that I'm not totally pumped to hang out with Chris, but isn't there anyone else to take him? I won't exactly be much fun."
"You're always fun, Buck!" Chris shouts, at the same time Eddie responds,
"Carla's on vacation, so I'm stuck with you." Eddie seems to feel bad the second the words leave his mouth, but he schools his features quickly as he gives Chris a kiss on the top of the head, murmuring at him to go watch cartoons on the TV. He waits until Chris is out of ear shot to whisper, "And even if we've got our own stuff going on right now, Chris misses you. And I don't have anyone else to take him right now. I may be pissed at you, but you're still the only other person I trust with my kid, and I knew you'd be home, so. Yeah. His bag has snacks and some activities in it, just...keep him entertained. Okay? Just this once."
"You know, it's kind of a dick move to just throw your kid on me when you haven't talked to me in weeks. You know that, right?"
As soon as Evan announced he was suing LAFD for his job back, everyone in the station had cut contact. It was fair, talking to him would be a conflict of interest, but still. Maybe if they had talked to him, he would've realized what an idiot he was being and he wouldn't have gotten himself into this mess. Eddie scoffs.
"Of course I do. You think I don't know that? But I don't exactly have a choice. So you're stuck with him. Now, I'm already running late, so I'll see you when I get off. Text me if there's an emergency." There are transfer papers on top of the mess of paperwork on the counter, and Evan knows Eddie sees them when he passes the kitchen. Wonders if they'll talk about it -about anything- when Eddie comes back to pick Chris up. He doesn't say anything about them, even though he can't rip his eyes away from them as he backs towards the door. "I'll be back at seven or eight tomorrow, depending on when we get done. I'll text you if we end up needing to stay late."
"Right."
"Try not to spoil him too much, will you?"
"Whatever you want, Eddie. Stay safe at work, okay?"
Eddie doesn't answer with anything but a grunt, and the door falls shut between them. Evan stares at it for a long while, tracing the curves of the wood groove with his eyes, the sound of morning cartoons filtering through the loft as he tries to collect himself. Chris misses you. And I don't have anyone else to take him right now. I may be pissed at you, but you're the only one available that I trust with my kid. Evan swallows thickly, takes a deep breath, and puts a smile on his face before he turns to grin at Chris.
"Alright, buddy, what do you say we do pancakes and waffles?"
That question earns him a cheerful shout from Chris that this is going to be the "best day ever!" and he tries not to let himself think about how this is probably one of the last times they'll see each other. Instead, he limps his way into the kitchen and gets started on making them breakfast.
The morning passes by slowly. Evan cooks while Chris watches cartoons, and after they eat, he cleans the kitchen to keep himself busy despite the way his leg screams at him to sit down. Once that's done he joins Chris for a few minutes before working on his PT homework- which Christopher insists on participating in. By then it's only ten in the morning, and they're supposed to hang out all day. Evan just wants to sleep for the rest of the day, exhausted just from that little bit of exercise, but he also wants to have a good day with Chris; they haven't seen each other in a few weeks, and he probably won't see him again, so this has to be a good day. Not a day full of Chris doing nothing while Evan sleeps on the couch.
So he suggests catching a movie, and Chris is more than delighted.
After the movie is lunch, and after lunch, Chris suggests going to the pier; it's a nice summer day, and it'll be good for them to stretch their legs, he says, sounding far too grown up for Evan's liking. But he's never been one to deny Chris, and so he doesn't. He does grab his crutches from the car, however, finally deciding to give his knee a break. Chris just smiles and says something about them matching. Evan laughs, pulls Chris in for a tight hug, and allows him to lead the way up the pier. They play a lot of games, though they don't exactly win a whole lot of them, which is fine by Evan- even if he wants to win that giant teddy bear, there's only so much room in the jeep and Eddie would probably be annoyed at him for giving Chris more toys he'll never play with. Every once in a while, Evan thinks about Eddie and the 118, wonders what they're doing. If they're running ragged, or if they're having a rare day where only a handful of calls comes in. But then Chris will say something, or one of the people next to them in the game booths tells him he's got a cute kid, and he's broken from those thoughts.
Carnival food has always been one of Buck's favorite treats, one he rarely gets to indulge in, so even though he probably shouldn't he and Chris eat their fair share- they're both having an ice cream cone before they go back to the loft to rest before dinner when Buck's attention is caught by a group of paramedics suddenly swarming the pier. He hadn't even noticed the mascot character had fainted- though, he probably should have seen it coming. In heat like this, in a costume like that? Probably heat stroke. Buck watches the paramedics anyway, even though he knows what's going to happen; they're going to hook him up to IV saline, cover him in ice packs, and load him into the ambulance for a trip to the hospital. Even though Buck knows the drill, his firefighter brain is suddenly activated, and he can't take his eyes away from the scene.
It should be him over there helping out. The team's probably had a ton of heat stroke calls. Pool drownings. Barbeque accidents. He should be helping them, he should be there, not some random sub they found to cover for him. He hopes the station he's put with when he transfers is nice. Maybe closer to the beach. That way he doesn't have many chances to run into the 118.
"-uck...Buck...Buck!"
Buck turns to Chris, who he's holding up on the bench so he can see the beach over the railing, and smiles. "Sorry buddy. Zoned out."
"Were you watching the firefighters?"
There's no slipping things past Chris. "...I was."
"Do you miss it?"
"I do." He admits. "But I'll be back to work soon. I just...I gotta be patient. I wasn't patient, before, and I ended up hurting people. Hurting your dad."
"You did?"
"I did. Everyone's really mad at me, right now, bud. But, uh- it'll all be over, soon. I'm gonna fix it."
"Good. Dad misses you a lot."
Evan smiles ruefully. Oh, how he wishes that were true. "Of course. Hey, what do you wanna do when you grow up, Chris?"
Chris thinks long and hard, before saying, "Astronaut. Or a pirate."
"Hey, those are some good choices. Good outfits, too."
"Or- No, wait! A firefighter!"
Chris has this bright grin on his face, so bright and wonderful that Evan can't help but smile too. There's a "me too," in there about to slip out, but he can't quite get them out, the fight slipping out of him. God, he's such a crybaby. Here he is, complaining that he gets a couple more paid weeks off to heal so he doesn't hurt himself again, when Chris has had to go through so much already in his short life. His dad left, then his mom, then his mom came back and then she died...He's had surgeries, constant PT and other therapies...Chris' cerebral palsy may slow him down, but Evan rarely ever sees the kid complain about anything. He always tries something out before deciding if he likes it or not, he never discredits himself and says he can't do something. He's Evan's hero, and he doesn't even know it. Evan's going to miss him when he leaves.
"That's a good choice," He says instead of what he really wants. "But, uh...If those things don't work out, I hope you find something you really love. Y'know? Something you're good at. That makes you feel like you matter. Something you could do forever. Because when you do, it's gonna tell you who you are. A- And it's gonna show you the rest of your life, and that is the best feeling. And I- I hope you get that. I hope you get to keep it. 'Cause-"
His voice cracks then, and he cuts himself off, pressing his tongue against his teeth. He isn't going to cry in front of Chris. He isn't going to cry in front of Chris. He isn't-
Chris' hand travels down from the railing, slapping at Evan's face gently before it presses against his cheek, an imitation of what a parent does to a small child. "You're gonna me okay, kid."
Evan smiles, looking up at Chris with tears shining in his eyes. He stands despite the protest in his legs, preparing to announce that they need to get home and eat an actually healthy dinner since they'd had so much junk food, only for the words to die in his mouth, the smile slipping from his face when he looks out into the ocean.
Or. What's supposed to be the ocean.
"Where...Where did all the water go?"
Evan makes a noise, his eyes not leaving the beach as he pulls Chris a little closer, his mind going a mile a minute.
Water receded. Way farther than a low tide. I can't see water for at least a mile, maybe a mile and a half. What the hell?
Evan grabs Chris and runs without even thinking. He ditches their crutches, because if this is what he thinks it is they'll only slow them down, and-
He gets three or four seconds ahead of the tsunami sirens. Ahead of the other civilians. Ahead of the wave. He hears his voice shouting -screaming- to leave the beach, to take cover, hears the wave crash behind them, but he doesn't look back; not even when the screams of other civilians turns into silence, into more rushing water- he just needs to get away from the water. Get Chris away from the water. Shit shit shit, it's coming fast. Evan knows there's no outrunning a tsunami. He knows that. He just thought he'd at least make it farther away. The water is rushing in fast, lapping at his feet as he realizes it's hunker down now or get dragged along with the water, and so he makes a split-second decision and hopes it's the right one. He tosses Chris over the counter of one of the ring-toss booths, shouts at him to "grab on, hold on tight," before launching himself over the counter a second later. He barely has time to wrap his arms around one of the support posts before the water knocks the wind out of him and it occurs to him that he forgot to tell Chris to hold his breath. The water continues to rush on, trying to wrench him away from his grip on the post, and he holds on tight- until he can't.
When he resurfaces, it's with a gasp for air. He doesn't know how long he'd held his breath, nor does he know how much longer he would've been able to hold it for. Before his lungs are even filled all the way with air, Evan yells out for Chris. If Chris yells back, Evan can't hear him over the rush of the waves.
"-uck!"
The sound of Chris' voice breaks through the air and Buck's head whirls around in every direction, his eyes wild as he searches for Chris. There's water in his eyes. He can't see. He can't- He can't- "Chris? Christopher! Christopher!"
"Buck!"
"Christopher!"
"Buck!" Finally, he catches sight of Chris. He's clinging onto something -Evan can't see- for his dear life, waving wildly in Evan's direction.
"Hold on! Just- Just stay there! I'm coming to you!"
He grabs Chris. Somehow, by some magic, he grabs Chris. The water rushes around them, jostling them this way and that. Evan is waterlogged and exhausted, but he manages to hold Chris above the water as he looks for somewhere to climb onto, even when Evan himself goes under. But then he blinks, and they're flopped on their backs on the back of a fire engine, and Evan almost laughs at their luck. Luck. He must be running out of that- there's only so many times someone can survive before they just finally keel over and die. He blinks again, and there's more people on the rig with them, and he's impossibly wetter than he was before. He thinks, maybe, that these lapses in memory should be concerning, but he also knows that this is a pretty traumatic moment and that things like that can happen, sometimes, in traumatic events, and shit, Chris-
Chris, all things considered, is doing pretty well.
He's joking around with their new friends as they wait for someone to come get them -firefighters to come get them- with an easy smile. Evan had checked him over three times before he'd been able to relax, and there aren't any major cuts or bruises on him. His crutches are lost to the water, but it doesn't matter. Nothing else matters right now than the fact that Chris is alive, and safe, and Evan isn't going to let anything change that. Chris is leaning heavy against his side, now, and Evan is pretty sure he's just as exhausted as Evan is, but little kids are uniquely good at pretending they aren't tired, and so Evan entertains him with a quiet game, their voices low so as not to disturb the others.
"I spy, with my little eye...something that moves people," Evan says as a school of debris floats by, and Chris at least pretends to think a little more than it actually took for him to spy Evan's item.
"A scooter?"
"Ah, uh- Yeah. Yeah. Alright, genius, your turn."
"I spy a shopping cart."
"What? No, come on, that's not how the game works! You can't just yell stuff out!"
"But yelling stuff out is the fun part!"
Chris looks so genuine when he says it that Evan can't help but laugh- a weak chuckle that hurts his ribs, but a laugh nonetheless, and the first genuine he's given today. "You amaze me, buddy."
Chris tilts his head up at Evan, his nose scrunched up in confusion. "Why?"
He wonders if Eddie's told Chris about what's happening with the lawsuit. Wonders if he'll know about his transfer when it happens, or if he'll just slowly start hearing less and less about "Buck" until there are no more stories, no more visits, nothing. He swallows thickly. "...I got some bad news at work the other day, and I didn't wanna get out of bed for a whole week. But you, after the day you had, here you are, with a big smile, bustin' a gut. You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept on swimming.
"Like Dory?"
Another laugh. Evan winces. He thinks he must've bruised a rib when the water was knocking him around. "Yeah, like Dory. A- And not just today, y'know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain. How- How do you do that?
Chris looks like he's thinking for a short moment before saying, "Well, I complained once, but it didn't work..."
"So what did you do?"
"Just kept on swimming."
"Like Dory."
There's a commotion then, their fellow cast-aways scrambling to one side of the rig, pointing in the direction of where the pier would be in horror. He hears their gasps and curses and knows what it is they're pointing at almost instinctively. He looks anyway, and almost immediately wishes he didn't. As discretely as possible, Evan shifts so their backs are turned towards the street and does his best to distract Chris. If he wasn't already confident Eddie was never going to let him see Chris again after this, he might be worried letting Chris see dead bodies might be a tipping point in their friendship.
They continue on like that for a long while, no sign of rescue just yet, until the deafening shriek of the tsunami siren blares again and the top of the fire engine becomes active. There's confusion and panic as they try to figure out why the hell is the siren going off again, is there another wave, what the hell, when the water begins to rush in the opposite way it came.
It's receding. And fast.
Evan doesn't have time to tell the others to grab on. He just grabs onto Chris and grabs the rig wherever he can, praying for the water to stop. When the waves finally settle enough that the rig isn't rocking back and forth so much, Evan finds that more than one person has fallen off the fire engine, and there are more people floating down-stream towards them. Someone falls off the rig. Evan wants to hunker down, hold tight to Chris and selfishly preserve his own life. He'd wanted to die so many times in the last few months, but right now he wants to live, if only to make sure Chris makes it out of this safe and sound.
He wants to stay on the rig.
But he hears the terrified screams of other people who don't want to die either, and he's a firefighter, he's supposed to save people, no matter the cost, so-
He asks one of the women he'd rescued earlier to hold onto Chris, make sure he's okay, and he dives in.
When he returns to the rig, the woman isn't there and neither is Chris, and Evan's world collapses.
Evan blinks. He isn't on the fire engine anymore, nor is he anywhere near it; he remembers asking the others if they'd seen the little boy he was with, and he remembers running in the direction of the swell of water heading back to the ocean when they said they hadn't. He's in some shopping district, one he didn't really visit but Abby liked, and it feels stupid to be thinking about Abby of all people, but in his search he passes the hollowed-out ruins of one of those kitschy knickknack stores she took him to one time and his mind just wanders to her. There's not much else to do, trudging down the streets calling Christopher's name with no response. He wonders what she's up to now. If she were still at the call center, she'd be calm and collected right now, she'd be taking charge. Maddie is probably taking charge. Maybe not so calm and collected, but taking charge nonetheless. His big sister loves to make things better. God, he could go for a hug from Maddie right now.
The water is knee-height after the water recedes. There's a gentle current moving debris back towards the pier, but other than that, the water is still. There are dozens upon dozens of bodies littering the street, cars flipped in the middle of the road, storefronts with their windows shattered. Piles and piles of driftwood, seaweed, and destruction obstruct any real way in or out of this disaster-made canal of hell by foot, but Evan tromps through it despite it all. He has to. Chris is out there somewhere, probably scared as hell, and Evan needs to get to him. Tell him everything is okay. Protect him.
Once again Evan's mind wanders, this time to Chris. If he's even alive, which Evan doesn't let himself think otherwise, he's bound to be terrified. Alone, scared, without his crutches to help support him. Walking through waves of floating corpses, unable to look away or hide his face in Evan's neck. The thought makes Evan sick to his stomach. He'd thought earlier, when Chris was holding his face and telling him he was going to be alright, that he was at his lowest, but now he isn't so sure because this feels really fucking low.
"Christopher! Chris!" His voice is raw and trembling with each new call. He doesn't know how long he's been searching, nor does he care- his phone had fried when the tsunami hit, he didn't have a way to call anyone, but who would he call? Eddie? 9-1-1? No, he was on blood thinners, he just had surgery, he'd be taken to whatever triage camp awaited the tsunami victims until a hospital bed opened up, and then he couldn't look for Chris. The 118 was probably overloaded with emergencies right now, helping wherever they can, and Evan is going to find Chris before their shift ends and Eddie goes back to an empty loft. He will not make Eddie a widow and a father to a dead son. He will not. He-
Evan cuts himself off mid-question when he spots a familiar pair of glasses floating in the water. The couple he's accosting seem to understand without him needing to say anything, both of them making sympathetic noises when he ducks down to grab them. He thanks them for stopping anyway, dazed, and continues on down the road, slipping the glasses around his neck. Chris will need them when Evan finds them, cracked or not. He continues on.
There's a little boy in a yellow shirt that looks the same age as Chris, but ultimately it isn't him, and slowly Evan's hope is wearing thin. He sees a group in front of a gas station and opens his mouth to call out, but this time someone is asking him a question. It's been so long since he'd been able to process anything but a "no, sorry, I hope you find him," that it takes him a long moment to actually hear what the kid is asking him over the ringing in his ears.
"-ou okay, sir? You're bleeding."
"Huh? I-" He looks down at his arm, and he vaguely registers that oh no, this isn't good. He isn't sure when he'd started bleeding, just that it looks like it has been for a while and it hasn't stopped. It's not a particularly deep gash, and normally wouldn't require stitches, but it's long and jagged, and he's on blood thinners, which isn't exactly good. He accepts water from the group in front of him, and almost refuses to go with them, but then he hears there's a reunification camp set up nearby and he figures he's running out of options. If Chris was with anyone, anyone at all, they would've taken him there. He has to be there.
So Evan goes. He searches every tent, every corner of the building, every dark corner- only to find that Chris isn't anywhere. One of the EMTs that patched up his arm tells him if he doesn't see Chris in any of the other places to check the morgue, and the thought makes Evan so sick he has to excuse himself to throw up in a nearby garbage can. Then, he does what he tends to do when he's in trouble-
He calls Maddie.
He knows it's a bad idea, even as he dials 9-1-1 on some random stranger's phone. He knows it's a bad idea as he asks the operator that picks up to transfer him to Maddie Kendal, please, it's important. Knows it's a bad idea as he tells her how he lost Chris, he doesn't know what to do, are there any reports of a child found alone near here, please, Mads, please. When she suggests calling Eddie, telling him what's happening so the 118 can help in the search, Evan hangs up on her and hands the stranger the phone back without even saying thank you. No, he's not calling Eddie. He's not calling and saying he lost his kid, that Chris is probably in a body bag in a tent, he's not he's not he's not.
"Buck? Buck, is that you?"
Evan turns and ducks into a crowd upon hearing his name, his heart hammering in his chest. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. He needs to leave.
Eddie's voice calls out his name a few more times, searching, confused, but Evan makes himself small, makes himself blend into the throngs of people at the camp as he makes his way out. It's dark as he steps back out into the streets, and he's shivering as his wet clothes cling to his rapidly-cooling skin, but he doesn't care. He's going to find Chris if it fucking kills him.
"Chris!" He's lost more of his voice, sitting idle at the reunification camp for god knows how long. He should've kept looking. "Chri-s..!"
His leg hurts. Another thing to blame on stopping his search. He'd only let the EMTs look at the cut on his arm, allowed them to wrap a bandage around it with the promise to wait in triage to get it stitched up, only to duck out as soon as they turned their backs. The arm doesn't hurt so much as sting, after being given the salt-water treatment all afternoon. But his leg? His leg aches. Far more than the muscle-spasms he deals with on the daily, the throbbing pain deep down to the muscle. This ache spreads from his ankle to his hip on his bad leg, pulsing and shooting the nerves at an almost constant rate. It's enough to be dizzying, or maybe that's the blood loss, but he doesn't care either way. He's about three or four blocks away from the camp -just far enough away that the lights don't reach him, but he can still distantly hear the frenzied commotion, when he hears sloshing behind him. He thinks maybe someone else had the bright idea to go searching for a loved one and almost turns around to see if he could help, but then he hears his name and freezes.
"Buck, I know you heard me. God knows I could hear you shouting Chris' name from a mile away."
"Eddie, I..." He can't face Eddie. His face falls into his hands and he sobs, then, unable to stop the wave of emotions that shakes his body. "I'm so sorry. I- I'm gonna find him, Eddie, I'm gonna find 'im. I'm just- I- I thought he was there, and he wasn't, but I'm gonna go find him right now-"
"Buck."
"-'nd he's gonna be perfectly fine. Okay? He- I swear he was perfectly fine when I saw him last. No water inhalation, no bumps, no bruises, nothing. I'm gonna find him-"
"Buck." More insistent this time. Evan doesn't care. He can't deal with Eddie yelling at him right now, he needs to find Chris. He shakes his head.
"I'll find him. I swear. A- And I know you were already pissed at me before this, and you're definitely pissed at me now, but please. Please let me do this. Please."
"Evan."
He lets out a pathetic pleading noise, frustrated. Why won't Eddie just let him go?.. "Please, Eddie..."
"He's already safe, Buck. I was on my way to find you to see where Chris was when some woman came in carrying him. Hen and Chim are checking him out right now, but he's safe."
"No," Evan says, because he doesn't believe it. This is some sick joke. "No, I- I turned that place upside down looking for him, he wasn't there. Only place I didn't check was-" His voice cracks. He can't bring himself to say where. "I looked."
"Thank you. For looking."
"And you're sure it's him?"
"I'm positive. And he's very anxious to know where you are, so why don't you turn around and get your ass back there with me?"
This can't be real.
"It's real. I swear. He's safe, Evan." Had he said that out loud? Shit. "He's safe."
"I-" Evan blinks, and Eddie is there next to him, looking like he's been through hell and back in the last five minutes, and Evan's heart aches. He's the one that made Eddie look like that. He's the one that nearly broke his heart. "I'm sorry."
"Don't," Eddie says, his voice thick, and then all of a sudden he's hugging Evan for dear life. Evan's frame is shaking, but he can't tell if it's from the cold or because he's crying. He should probably get himself together, but he can't seem to get the tears to stop, even when Eddie pulls away and starts dragging him back to the reunification center. The noise and the lights are suddenly too bright, even though he'd been staring at the sun reflecting off the water all day, and he can't breathe. Eddie pulls him along through the throngs of people, and Evan lets him, too numb to do anything else. To fight. Finally, they stop, and Eddie points some thirty feet in the distance, and Evan's heart stops.
Chris is sitting on top of a picnic table, a shock blanket around his shoulder, talking to Hen and Chim. He's squinting to see them a bit without his glasses, but he has a smile on his face, and it looks like he's recalling some action film or something with how animated he is as he talks. He's damp, and looks tired, but he doesn't look injured, and he's okay. Eddie is saying something, but Evan doesn't hear him. He's just watching Chris. Unsure of how this is all real, but thankful that Chris has ended up here safely nonetheless. He turns to tell Eddie he's sorry again, that he understands if he never wants him around Chris again, but before the words can leave his mouth, his vision starts to darken on the edges and he feels his consciousness begin to fade.
Four days after Evan tells Chase Mackey to go fuck himself, he wakes up in a hospital room and he can't even find it in himself to be surprised. What does surprise him is the pile of get well soon cards and balloons and treats sitting at his bedside table. Soon, his family will filter into his hospital room and sit with him, and he will have his opportunity to apologize, though his apologies will be dismissed immediately, a promise of "we'll talk once you feel better," and a hug all he gets in response. And they do. And Evan hasn't felt more seen in months.
Two weeks after Evan tells Chase Mackey to go fuck himself, he rips up the transfer papers.
A month after Evan tells Chase Mackey to go fuck himself, he gets the all-clear to go back to work; and when he does, it's back at firehouse 118. His leg still hurts, occasionally, and he's having more nightmares than he cares to admit, but none of that matters, because he's home. He'll figure out the rest with his family at his side.