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with amazing cover art by ro.nordmann!
When You Need Me
The ringing in Bobby’s ears is a sound with which he’s unfortunately intimately acquainted. The fuzziness in his head, the deep aches in his body that make him feel like he’s been put through a meat grinder – those are unhappily familiar too. Bobby takes a deep breath, in part to check if he’s broken any ribs as well as trying to calm his mind enough to sort through the haze of pain and get his bearings.
He’s flat on his back, staring up at a mess of rubble above him. Building collapse, then, he thinks, gingerly pushing himself into a sitting position. He fumbles for his radio.
“This– this is Captain 118,” Bobby grits out. “I need a headcount.”
There’s no response; Bobby’s stomach sinks. Either his radio is broken or he can’t get a signal wherever he’s ended up trapped. He exhales slowly through his open mouth, trying to stave off his rising panic. Other than the distant sounds of shifting rubble, the area seems relatively stable, so hopefully he’s not at risk of being crushed anytime soon. His team will be looking for him – he knows that for certain. All he has to do is sit tight and wait for rescue.
But then there’s a groan behind him, and Bobby’s stomach drops for an entirely different reason.
His head jerks in the direction of the noise — his back protesting at the sudden movement — as he prays desperately that he’s somehow wrong, that the knock he took to the head is making him hear things. But of course, as his eyes bounce around the destroyed remnants of the building, he sees the only thing that could make his fear ratchet up even more.
Buck.
Pinned face-down under some rubble is Buck. One of his hands curls and uncurls against the floor as he stirs, limbs moving weakly like he can’t quite get them to work properly. His helmet is still on, and Bobby hopes that he’s managed to avoid a serious head injury. God knows Buck’s body has been through more than enough in the last few years.
“Wh– what?” Buck mumbles, making like he’s trying to push himself up.
“Wait! Buck, hold on, don’t move just yet.”
Bobby scrambles over on his hands and knees until he’s next to Buck. He quickly clears the debris off of Buck, his eyes frantically scanning over Buck’s body as he checks for injuries. He doesn’t see anything obvious, but he knows he can’t rule out anything spinal or internal with only a visual inspection.
“Cap?” Buck says, tilting his head to look at him but otherwise remaining still.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Bobby answers, breathing out a sigh of relief that Buck seems relatively lucid. “Can you move your feet for me? Any loss of sensation anywhere?”
“God, I wish,” Buck groans. “Unfortunately, I can definitely feel everything.”
That startles a laugh out of Bobby. He helps Buck gently roll over and sit up, wishing that he had a penlight so he could check Buck’s pupillary response, but Buck seems alert enough. Besides, even if Buck does have a brain bleed, it’s not like Bobby can do anything at the moment.
“How we doing, Buck?” Bobby asks, unable to help himself reaching out to brush some of the dust off Buck’s turnout coat.
Buck rubs at the back of his neck. “Like I got a building dropped on me. So, peachy.” He runs his other hand down his torso and winces slightly. “How about you, Cap?”
Bobby sighs. “Nothing broken, as far as I can tell. I don’t suppose your radio is working?”
Moving slowly – Buck’s body no doubt aching like Bobby’s is – Buck grabs his radio. “This is Buckley, does anybody read me?”
They both hold their breath for a couple seconds – but nothing. Bobby deflates a little. In an attempt to focus on something else, he surveys the little air pocket they’ve found themselves in. It’s a small area, about the same size as the guest bedroom at Bobby and Athena’s house. There’s enough room that both he and Buck should be able to stand up and move around freely, but it’s not exactly like they’ll be able to run laps while they wait for rescue. He’s brought back to the fire at Dispatch, that moment when, as he was ushering May away from the flames, time seemed to freeze as he felt the building coming down. May’s cry of terror is still burned into his nightmares. He doesn’t relish the thought of being trapped with another kid, but at least Buck isn’t pinned beneath him with the weight of a collapsed building on top of them both.
Hopefully the team should still be able to get a lock on their locations, and is making their way to them at this very moment.
Buck wheezes out a pained sound as he gets to his feet. The sound makes Bobby’s heart squeeze, and he quickly follows suit, hurrying to Buck’s side.
“What are you doing?” Bobby asks.
“Looking for a way out,” Buck says. “Hen and Eddie didn’t just sit around when they were buried.”
“It’s not a competition, kid.”
But Bobby gets it. He and Buck – and the rest of the 118, really – are alike in that way, never content to sit and twiddle their thumbs if there’s the possibility they could be doing something to help.
“I take this side, you take that side?” Buck suggests.
“All right,” he says, figuring there’s not much trouble Buck can get up to in such a confined space.
He heads over to the opposite side of their little pocket, examining the debris. What little hope he had about digging their own way out quickly melts away. He’s honestly amazed that he and Buck didn’t just get pancaked when the building collapsed. Someone up there must really be looking out for them.
Bobby turns back around, catching Buck hastily dropping his turnout back into place. “You good?” he asks.
“Yeah,” Buck says quickly. “Yeah, all good here. No luck?”
“No, I don’t like the look of this.” Bobby surveys the rubble again. “If we go poking around willy-nilly, we could bring everything down on top of us. Guess we’ll just have to be patient and let the team find us.”
Buck smiles tightly. “Hope they’re not dragging their feet.”
Bobby feels a strange itch in the back of his skull. Something about Buck’s demeanour has quiet little alarm bells going off in his head, but Bobby can’t tell if it’s just the general peril of the situation they’ve found themselves in that has his ever-present concern for Buck bubbling to the surface.
Aiming to lighten the mood, Bobby teases, “I’m sure Eddie will be leading the charge to get us out.”
It’s almost comical how instantly Buck’s face turns pink. This time, when he smiles, it’s a lot less strained. “Better him than Captain Han.”
“Come on, now,” Bobby laughs, “Chim’s gotten much better ever since he brought Ravi back from the academy.”
“I guess that’s true,” Buck concedes. “Hey, what about over here? Looks like we could maybe squeeze through.”
Bobby follows Buck’s line of sight to a small hole in the wall of rubble. Personally, he doesn’t think it has much potential, given the size of Buck’s shoulders, but it also doesn’t look like it’s supporting anything integral in the debris. If they’re careful, then maybe…
Buck’s already moving, taking a few stumbling steps towards the hole, his gait just off enough that Bobby wonders if he’s aggravated his bad leg. Bobby walks over to stand beside him, partly to get a better look at the rubble but also to get a closer look at Buck. Something’s wrong – more than having a building collapse on top of them.
Bobby doesn’t have to wait long to get his answer. Buck twists a bit, immediately wincing as the colour drains from his face. Before Bobby can even react, Buck’s hand shoots out and lands on Bobby’s shoulder, fisting the fabric tightly as Buck sways on his feet like he’s about to drop. Bobby quickly grabs onto Buck’s biceps to steady him as his own pulse starts to race.
“Buck, what’s wrong?” he asks. “What happened?”
Instead of answering, Buck slowly lowers himself to the ground. Bobby keeps his hands on Buck to make sure he doesn’t pass out and actually crack his head open this time. Dropping to his knees in front of Buck, Bobby’s hands start roaming, checking for injury. When he passes over Buck’s left side, Buck sucks in a sharp breath.
“Buck, what –?”
“Bobby, I’m sorry, I didn’t- didn’t want to tell you when there’s nothing –”
“Buck.” There’s a pit opening up in Bobby’s stomach. “Show me.”
Groaning, Buck lifts up the side of his turnout. Icy cold panic zips through Bobby’s veins as he sees what Buck’s been hiding: a small piece of rebar embedded in his abdomen, a dark patch staining his shirt around the wound.
Buck must read the dismay on Bobby’s face because he’s suddenly scrambling to explain. “I’m sorry, Bobby, I’m really sorry, but there’s nothing you can do, I didn’t want you to worry, I thought if we could just get out –”
Jesus, Mary and Joseph, this kid. Bobby casts his eyes skyward. On one hand, he kind of understands – there’s not a lot they can do trapped here with nothing to work with, and now Bobby’s focus is going to be split between trying to find a way out and worrying over Buck. But Bobby still wants to grab Buck by his suspenders and shake him a little for even considering for a second that it would somehow be beneficial to hide a life-threatening injury.
And Buck was trying to walk around with it.
“I’m not mad,” Bobby says, trying to soothe Buck’s panic. “I’m not mad, okay? But I need you to lie down.”
Buck allows Bobby to cautiously lay him down, moving slowly in an attempt not to jostle the wound. After Buck is flat on his back, Bobby fumbles with the pockets of his turnout coat, sending up a silent prayer of thanks when he finds that he still has his trauma shears. He wishes he had tape or gauze to be able to stabilize Buck’s abdomen more, but he’ll make do with what he’s got. Shrugging out of his coat, he quickly cuts some long strips of fabric from the bottom and does his best to create some bulky dressings to try and stem the blood flow.
There are tears in Buck’s eyes when Bobby looks back at him. “I’m so- I’m sorry, Bobby.”
“Hey.” He takes one of Buck’s hands, gently peeling off his glove so he can feel Buck’s pulse in his wrist. It’s elevated and a little erratic, but Bobby forces his expression to remain composed. “You don’t need to apologize. Just focus on breathing nice and deep for me, okay?”
He’s definitely going to have another long heart-to-heart with Buck when they get out of here about Buck’s tendency to downplay his injuries, but right now he’s more concerned with keeping Buck calm and from going into shock. He hopes desperately that they aren’t buried too deep and that the rest of the team is well on their way to rescuing them.
“Let me know if you start feeling cold or lightheaded,” Bobby says calmly.
Buck nods, blinking rapidly as a couple tears slide down his cheeks. “I will.”
Bobby gives Buck’s hand what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze before he drops it. He turns around and hunts through the rubble until he finds something he can use to elevate Buck’s feet and legs. Eventually he manages to lug over what used to be some sort of storage bench, and helps Buck get his feet propped up on it. Buck’s clearly doing his best to hold in moans of pain, but those quiet, bitten-off whimpers will be seared into Bobby’s mind for weeks to come.
“Thanks,” Buck wheezes.
“Any time, kid,” Bobby says. “But how about you try and kick this habit, huh?”
Buck chuckles and then winces. “Ow. Yeah, this is getting… a little old.”
Bobby takes note of the slight breathlessness in Buck’s response. As much as he wants to put his faith in the rest of the team – as much as he trusts that they’re doing their damndest to find them – he doesn’t know how much longer Buck can wait. It’s almost as if, now that Bobby’s aware of the injury and Buck’s not trying to conceal it anymore, his body has taken that as permission to start to slip. Bobby pushes himself up onto his feet. Taking another look can’t hurt. He doesn’t even need to tunnel all the way out – just far enough to meet up with the rescue team.
“Cap?” Buck cranes his neck to try and track his movements. “What are you… doing?”
“Trying to find us a way out.”
“That bad, huh?” Buck asks, a little ruefully.
Keep him calm, keep him calm. “Like you said about Hen and Eddie, we have a reputation to maintain.”
It’s so obviously a lie, but Buck just hums in response. If it was just Bobby down here, he would be content (if anxious) to sit and wait after determining he couldn’t dig himself out. With the way Buck is deteriorating, though, Bobby isn’t capable of simply sitting down and praying. Sure, he has a loop of desperate prayers running constantly in the back of his mind, but Bobby knows from experience that action combined with prayer yields the best results.
“Cap, I’m f-feeling a l-little cold.”
Hot fear flushes through him. Bobby immediately stops what he’s doing and hustles back over to Buck. He grabs his ruined turnout coat from next to Buck and drapes it over his body, careful to avoid the piece of metal in his abdomen, his heart thumping painfully behind his ribs as he notes that Buck’s face is getting wan.
“There, how’s that?” Bobby asks. “Is that better?”
He tucks the coat around Buck as best he can. It reminds Bobby achingly of a few occasions in Buck’s probie year, when he would still occasionally poke his head into the bunks to check on everyone and find that Buck had somehow tossed his blanket off in his sleep. Bobby would tiptoe in, pick the blanket up, and carefully re-cover Buck’s sleeping form. Bobby still checks in on his sleeping team from time to time, but either Buck’s become a lot less restless in his sleep, or he has somebody else sleeping nearby who notices a lot faster.
Buck nods, but it’s sluggish. “Yeah. Yeah, b-better.”
Bobby clicks his radio again, hoping against hope that it will somehow be working. It isn’t, of course.
Please, Father, grant them speed.
Logically, he knows the team won’t be dilly dallying. Hopefully they’ve honed in on their locations, realized Bobby and Buck are together and haven’t moved much, and are digging their way through the debris to them at this very moment. He’s seen them do it before, their efficiency and determination an impressive sight to behold. Bobby glances around their little pocket, wondering where the team will break through. If he strains his ears enough, he can almost imagine he hears the faint sounds of digging.
“Cap, I don’t feel s’ good…” Buck slurs.
Bobby whips back around to face him just as Buck’s eyes roll back and he goes limp against the ground.
Please, God, no…
It’s the lightning strike all over again, looking up and seeing Buck’s lifeless body tumble off the top of the ladder. It’s desperately trying to lift the ladder truck off of Buck’s leg while he screams in agony on the pavement. It’s looking on helplessly as Buck scales a crane with no protective gear while they all know a sniper is out targeting first responders. It’s watching Buck’s eyes widen in horror as he coughs up blood and then immediately collapses on the patio.
Bobby’s been here too many times before, but this might be the worst one. Now, there’s no ambulance to load Buck into, no other medical professionals around to help – nothing except Bobby and his desperate prayers as he crouches over Buck and tries to drag him back from death’s grip.
He digs his knuckles into Buck’s sternum. “Buck! I need you to wake up! Open those eyes for me!”
But Buck is quiet and still beneath him, his skin ghastly pale.
“Come on, kid,” Bobby pleads, increasing pressure on Buck’s sternum. “Don’t quit on me now. Come on, Buck.”
He pushes Buck’s sweaty hair off his forehead with his other hand, hoping to offer him some modicum of comfort while he tries to provoke a response with the painful stimulus of the rub. Buck’s eyelids flutter as he groans quietly, and then he’s slowly blinking his eyes open. He stares up at Bobby but his gaze doesn’t seem to focus, like he’s not really seeing anything.
“That’s it, Buck,” Bobby says encouragingly. “Just keep those eyes open.”
Buck squints up at him confusedly. “Maddie?” he croaks.
Bobby’s heart breaks clean in two.
Suddenly from behind him come the sounds of banging and scraping. For one horrifying moment, Bobby thinks the rubble is coming down on top of them, but then he hears the shouting.
“Cap! Buck!” That’s Hen’s voice.
“We’re here!” Bobby calls, relief and hope roaring through his veins. “You hear that, kid? The team’s here to get us.”
But when Bobby turns back to Buck, he sees Buck’s eyes are closed again, his face slack.
No, no, no. Please, Father. Please.
“Hurry!” Bobby bellows.
Chunks of debris fall away and then flashlight beams shine through the cracks. Bobby feels like he may vibrate out of his own skin. Time slows down as he waits for those precious seconds for an exit to open up. Buck’s chest is still rising and falling beneath Bobby’s hand – the only thing stopping him from tearing blindly at his side of the wall.
Finally, Hen’s face appears. “Cap!”
“I need a backboard in here,” Bobby says. “Buck has a piece of metal lodged in his abdomen and he just lost consciousness.”
Hen turns and calls over her shoulder, “Chim, Eddie! Get a backboard up here now!”
She crawls through the hole and hurries to Buck’s other side, inspecting the wound. “How long has he been unconscious?”
“He passed out just as you found us, but he’s been exhibiting signs of shock for the last few minutes,” Bobby answers.
“Backboard coming in!” Eddie calls, and then he’s right with them. “Talk to me, how are we– oh fuck.”
“Eddie, help me with him,” Bobby orders.
Eddie’s eyes snap to Bobby, wild and panicked, but he doesn’t hesitate to help Bobby transfer Buck onto the backboard. Between one blink and the next, Chimney is there too, and then he and Eddie are hurrying off with Buck before Bobby can even process what’s happening.
It’s out of his hands. For the first time since he discovered Buck’s injury, there’s nothing more that Bobby can do.
He sags a bit, the adrenaline comedown suddenly hitting him, but Hen is there to take his weight.
“Are you okay?” she asks him.
Bobby manages to nod, even as he feels his own aches and pains surfacing again now that he’s not singularly focused on Buck. “Fine, I’m fine.”
Hen gives him a gentle smile and starts herding him towards the hole. “I’m still taking you to get checked out. Athena will meet us there.”
“Right,” Bobby says, longing surging through him at the thought of seeing his wife. “Let’s get out of here.”
Athena is waiting for them when they get to the hospital. She folds Bobby into her arms in a careful hug, and then she accompanies him back to a bed to get assessed while Hen heads to the waiting room to find Eddie and Chimney. Bobby has to wait a while to see a doctor, but Athena sits with him on the cot, holding his hand as her thumb gently strokes over his knuckle.
“He thought I was Maddie,” Bobby says quietly.
“Buck did?” Athena asks.
“Yeah.” Bobby sighs. “I keep thinking about it. He was clearly out of it, but why Maddie? Wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to think I was his dad?”
Athena clicks her tongue. “I think it makes perfect sense to me. When Buck was a kid getting sick or falling off his bike, who do you think was the one taking care of him? Because it doesn’t sound like it was either of his parents.”
Bobby has to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths so as not to crush Athena’s hand. He’s intimately familiar with the pain of losing a child, so he understands on some level the grief that Philip and Margaret Buckley had to wade through, but what he will never understand is how they let their surviving two children fall by the wayside for over twenty years.
Athena’s phone dings in her pocket. With her free hand, she pulls it out and reads the message. “Maddie says that Buck’s out of surgery. It went well.”
The remaining tension bleeds out of Bobby at the news. He was hopeful – Buck’s a fighter, has fought through worse and come out the other side – but he’s been reliving that horrible moment when Buck first lost consciousness over and over again in his mind while he waited for news. Having the confirmation that Buck made it through surgery, will be waking up soon after the anaesthesia wears off – Bobby finally feels like he can breathe normally again.
“They’re moving him to a room and then he’s allowed visitors,” Athena says.
“That’s great news,” Bobby says, allowing himself a small smile.
His own doctor arrives not long after that. He’s checked over, but other than a few bumps and bruises, the worst of his injuries is a gash along his back that doesn’t even require stitches. Bobby can’t recall getting the wound – he assumes it must have been when he was crawling out of the ruins of the building, since his coat had still been draped over Buck at that point. When the doctor announces that he’s free to go, he notices the way Athena’s shoulders relax.
“Sorry I scared you,” he says once they’re alone again.
Taking his face between her hands, Athena kisses him lightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay. That you’re both okay.”
“That kid’s gonna make me go grey early.”
Athena grins. “Personally, I like the silver fox look.”
Bobby notes that she didn’t deny it, though. He supposes she knows Buck well enough too.
“Come on, let’s go wait with the others,” Athena says. “May’s on her way with coffee and donuts.”
“You go on ahead,” Bobby says. “There’s something I need to do first.”
Athena gives him a knowing look, but doesn’t push.
Bobby will feel bad later. He’s not supposed to be jumping the metaphorical line and wandering the hospital in search of Buck, but he knows he won’t be able to rest until he sees Buck for himself with his own two eyes, even if he is still unconscious. The hospital staff don’t pay him any mind, though, moving seamlessly around him as they go about their jobs.
It’s a little depressing that he’s able to navigate the bowels of a hospital so easily at this point. It speaks to how often Bobby has been back here, either as a patient or visiting one of his recuperating team members. As it is, it doesn’t take Bobby too long to find what he’s looking for. He catches a glimpse of Buck in a bed at the end of the hall, and immediately freezes.
Looks like Bobby wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wait.
Eddie is sitting in a chair, pulled so close to Buck’s bed that his knees are digging into the bed frame in a way that looks like it should be painful. He has one of Buck’s hands, the one without the IV drip, clasped in both of his and is leaning over the bed so he can speak quietly to Buck, who’s grinning at him tiredly. Bobby’s heart swells in his chest as he sees Buck awake and alert again, and he can’t help but smile fondly at the exhausted but enamoured look on Buck’s face. While can only see the back of Eddie’s head, Bobby imagines that Buck’s expression must be a mirror of Eddie’s.
Thank you, merciful Father.
Bobby observes them for a moment longer. He feels slightly guilty about watching what is very clearly a private moment between the two of them, but Bobby needs this. He needs to let his eyes linger on Buck, to see that he truly is okay before Bobby makes his way to the waiting room.
Eddie leans forward, pressing his lips gently to Buck’s forehead. Buck’s eyes slide closed, and an irrational surge of panic pulses through Bobby, but then Buck is tipping his chin up and saying something that makes the back of Eddie’s neck go red. This time when Eddie bends down, he kisses Buck on the mouth so carefully, as if he’s afraid Buck will shatter under the slightest pressure. Bobby isn’t sure if this is their first kiss or if Eddie’s just being overly cautious in light of Buck’s injury, but Bobby knows it’s officially time to take his leave.
He lingers just long enough to see Buck’s eyes blink open again as he gives Eddie another besotted smile, before slowly turning around and heading in the direction of the waiting room.
On account of having abdominal surgery, Buck ends up having to spend a couple days in the hospital so they can monitor his recovery. Everyone takes it in turns to visit Buck so he only has to spend the nights alone, although the schedule they work out ends up being somewhat of a moot point when Eddie immediately requests a few days of PTO.
(Bobby approves them, of course.)
Bobby arrives just as visiting hours start in the morning, bringing with him some cards and a new book to keep Buck entertained. He’s completely unsurprised to find Eddie asleep when he gets to Buck’s room, this time his chair pushed back to a respectable distance.
“Bobby!” Buck says brightly, before immediately wincing and glancing at Eddie’s sleeping form.
Laughing quietly, Bobby lowers himself into the chair on the other side of Buck’s bed. “You’re looking much better.” He can’t help but reach out and adjust the blanket around Buck’s hips.
“Thanks to you.” Buck smiles ruefully. “I sure didn’t make it easy on you, huh?” He shifts on the bed, then grimaces as he brings his hand up to his abdomen. Bobby’s heart leaps into his throat, worrying Buck may have torn his stitches, but when Buck removes his hand there’s no blood.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Bobby says emphatically, before digging into his back and grabbing the book. “Here, I brought you something.”
The pain melts off Buck’s face as he perks up again. “For me? What is it?”
Bobby hands it to him, making sure Buck doesn’t have to stretch out too far to grab it.
“Shipwreck, mutiny and murder?” Buck reads off the cover. “This is great. Thanks, Cap!”
Even though Buck would probably be excited over virtually any book, it makes Bobby irrationally happy that Buck likes his choice. Although Bobby isn’t sure how much reading Buck will actually get done, seeing as Eddie has apparently taken it upon himself to set up camp in Buck’s hospital room while he’s here.
“You brought a deck of cards too?” Buck asks, peering down into Bobby’s open bag.
“I did indeed,” Bobby says. “And a crib board.”
Buck groans. “Man, don’t make me do math.”
“It’s good for your brain.”
“I was impaled, I don’t have a head injury.”
“Come on, kid.” Bobby rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “Just humour me.”
Buck smiles to himself and ducks his head. “Okay, okay. We can play your dad game.”
“Great. You know how to play?”
“The basics.” Buck shrugs. “You need cards in your hand to add up to 15 or something.”
“Or pairs, or a run. And you can peg for points when we’re laying down cards.”
Buck chokes. “You can – what?”
Doing his damndest not to laugh, Bobby continues innocently, “Pegging. If I put down a 10 and you put down a 5, that would make 15 and you could peg for two points. Understand?”
In the other chair, Eddie makes a sleepy noise and shifts slightly, but doesn’t wake. Buck’s eyes quickly dart over to Eddie and back as his face goes bright red. (And that flush is such a welcome sight after Bobby had to watch all the colour drain from his face as he slowly bled out.)
“Y-yeah,” Buck stammers. “I got it.”
“Good.” Bobby hands Buck the deck of cards. “Since you’re feeling better, you can shuffle those.”
Buck shuffles the cards before dealing them out, and Bobby cuts the deck. Once they’ve both thrown two cards into the crib, Bobby lays down his first card: a Three of Clubs. Buck throws down a Five of Hearts, to which Bobby adds his Seven of Diamonds.
“That makes 15,” Bobby explains, “so I get to peg for 2 points. See?”
He thinks he’s doing an okay job of suppressing his smile until Buck narrows his eyes.
“You’re fucking with me,” Buck accuses, pointing a finger and letting his hand tilt down so Bobby can see his cards. “Aren’t you?”
Bobby can’t help but laugh, and Buck snorts with him. “I am, a little bit. But it is legitimately called pegging.”
Buck shakes his head, smiling. “I don’t know if I believe you now.”
“Whatever, kid,” Bobby says kindly. He nudges Buck’s hand back up. “Stop showing me your cards. Now come on, it’s your go.”