Chapter Text
The vibe had been weird for days. Ever since Bobby had been suspended and “Captain Han” had reared his ugly head. And everything had been made only more intense by the rash of mail bombings that had hit the city. The tension was thick and each new call about a suspect bomb or bomber heightened the anxiety. By the time they were called on scene to an elementary school for a suspicious bookbag (just full of unwanted tuna salad, it turned out), the anxiety had reached fever pitch.
Buck was counting down to the end of shift as they sped along to whatever next call the night had in store for them. And then, dispatch was calling over the radio, telling them that Bobby Nash was trying to reach them. Cap? What?
Chim was on the radio, trying to get more information, and then all of a sudden--the world turned upside down.
Buck was aware of a loud bang and a flash of searing heat and then just chaos and pain. The first thing he noticed, when he became aware again, was that it was hard to hear. He wasn’t deaf--he could tell other people were screaming and shouting--but everything sounded muffled and there was a ringing in his ears.
Next he became painfully aware of the awkward position he was in. Half on his stomach, half on his right side with his left leg thrown out in front of him. There was blood from somewhere dripping into his eye, and he had the vague sensation of what had to be more blood--a fair amount from what he could tell--coming from somewhere near his right thigh. He tried to shift, to get into some semblance of a comfortable position, but he couldn’t move. His right leg was trapped. Glancing down, he realized with dawning horror that the entire fire truck had landed on top of him. The view was nauseating. He had to be pretty numb because he knew that he should be in excruciating pain. He couldn’t bring himself to consider how serious his injuries were. How irreversible they might be.
Suddenly, he remembered his team. His family. Buck did his best to glance around from the position he was in, scraping his chin against the asphalt. He couldn’t see Chim or Hen or Eddie anywhere. The ambulance was okay though--parked nearby. And he could hear another guy moaning in pain a dozen or so feet behind him.
And then, a pair of legs entered his vision. They didn’t belong to a firefighter--no uniform--and squinting upward, he made out the image of a kid--couldn’t have been more than 19 or 20 with--was that a bomb??--strapped to his chest.
Buck felt cold dread flood his system and instinctively he tried again to scramble away, but it was useless.
“You’re new,” the teen said with a strange tone to his voice, taking in the sight of Buck. And then he walked a little further on.
Buck could feel panic beginning to build in his chest. For all he knew his friends were hurt or worse. And all of them were apparently at risk from this crazy teen bomber (the kids were really not alright). He knew he needed to move. He needed to help. How could he?
The memory of Bobby trying to reach them via dispatch flashed through his mind and he caught himself wishing their erstwhile captain was there. Buck felt silly at the thought--like Bobby could somehow make things all better--but he couldn’t deny that he felt safer when the older man was around.
“At least he’s not at risk,” Buck thought to himself.
***
Thirty feet away, Eddie, Hen, and Chimney huddled behind the ambulance and surveyed the scene, desperate to get to Buck and others who were injured on the ground. The bomber--this kid who Chimney and Hen both realized seemed vaguely familiar--was saying on repeat “Where’s the captain? I want the captain!”
Chimney was a coiled spring, ready to go out and confront the psycho who had endangered his team, trapped Buck and injured others. But the incident commander came in over the radio in a tone that brooked no argument, “Hold your position!” And so the three firefighters held, and held onto each other as if they each needed the physical reinforcement to keep them in place.
And then, all of the sudden, one of their guys was moaning on the asphalt by the truck and the kid with the bomb was kicking him and yelling, “I told you not to move!”
Chim couldn’t take it anymore. He relinquished himself from the grasp of Hen and Eddie and moved with purpose toward the bomber.
“I’m the captain!” He told him, without hesitation. “Please just let me help them.”
The bomber looked confused for a moment, and then frustrated bordering on rage.
“No!” He tells them. “I want Captain Nash.”
And suddenly, Bobby was there. He’d come to the scene as soon as he could after realizing what had happened, and despite best efforts to hold him back, he had stepped forward as soon as the bomber said his name. Hands up, civilian clothes, no vest--he called out over his shoulder, “Let’s give him what he wants.”
The kid was angry at Bobby and everyone else who had locked his dad away after he’d committed arson to claim the insurance money on his failing restaurant. He wanted revenge. But why was he taking it out on these other firefighters? On Buck?
Bobby glanced over at the youngest member of his team and winced automatically at what he saw. The kid was in bad shape. He needed help.
Bobby tried to appeal to the bomber. He told him that Buck had a sister, a girlfriend, parents (biological or otherwise) who cared about him. He wasn’t even a firefighter when the restaurant had burned down. For a moment, he thought he might get through to the bomber. But then his gaze iced over, and he glanced at Buck with a dismissive sneer and spit, “Collateral damage.”
It gave Bobby an opening though. He met the bomber on his own emotional battlefield, highlighting his sense of victimhood, and then--at just the right moment--Athena brought out the mother. It gave the bomber just enough hesitation that Bobby could get the trigger away from him, and then it was over -- the threat anyway. The aftermath was still a very present reality.
****
As soon as the scene was clear, Chimney, Hen, and Eddie rush over to Buck. He was the only one who appeared to be in any kind of serious condition and other medics rushed in to tend to the others.
“Still with us, Buck?” Chim asked before moving on to evaluate the scene. Hen and Eddie crouched on either side of Buck, taking stock of his condition.
“How we doin’?” Hen asked him gently.
“Kinda numb,” he stuttered out. He was numb, he realized. Everything felt a little hazy and off. And words were becoming harder. Distantly, he thought that that couldn’t be a great sign.
“Skin is cold and pale,” Eddie said, and there was the barest hint of an edge to his voice that belied his raging anxiety over Buck’s condition.
Something at the edge of Buck’s mind bugged him. It felt important to mention… what was it?
“Think I might be bleeding…” He mumbled eventually.
Eddie’s brow furrowed, already searching. “Where?” He asked.
It took Buck a minute to respond.
“Right thigh, maybe?” He offered at least.
Eddie moved gentle gloved hands to where Buck indicated, inspecting for a wound. Buck’s pants were dark and wet all along the upper half of his right leg, and the wetness extended a little into the asphalt around him. But it was the wrong color and consistency to be blood, and it started at his groin.
Eddie looked up to find Hen’s eyes, and she was already giving him a knowing glance.
“You’re okay, bud,” Eddie told him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“N-no,” Buck pressed. “Are-are you sure? I felt it…”
“It’s not blood, Buck.”
It took Buck longer than it should have to run through all the data and connect the dots, but he got there. And then he groaned. Eddie suspected he’d be blushing if he wasn’t so pale.
“You mean I--oh God.” And he turned his face back toward the asphalt.
Eddie winced in secondhand embarrassment for his friend (although who could blame him, honestly? He had a fire truck on top of him!), but he was also concerned. Loss of bladder control could indicate internal organ injury or spinal injury or something else more serious.
“Don’t worry about it, Buck,” Hen told him in that gentle medic voice of hers. But honestly, it just made him more embarrassed. And maybe the embarrassment of wetting his pants in the midst of a crisis was easier to focus on than the fear of what else might be wrong with him. But Hen didn’t quite let him get away with that. “Bigger fish.” She told him firmly.
He let them work for a few minutes, hoping they’d be able to release him from the truck somehow, even though on some level he knew it was hopeless. There wasn’t some release button for fire truck on top of you.
He could sense all the people around them, and he could imagine the crowd of onlookers growing.
There were at least a dozen first responders huddled around the truck, trying to lift it off of him. At first, he was focused enough on the effort of freeing himself -- screaming in agony as he attempted to drag his crushed leg forward -- not to worry about anything else. But he heard Chim somewhere over his head calling for more back up.
Buck suddenly felt very on display. All focus was on him and here he was - trapped and vulnerable and in pain, lying on the ground. And to top it all off, he’d peed his pants. He knew that it was a ridiculous thing to focus on in the midst of everything, but the experience brought back sudden, overwhelming memories of another place and time -- years ago -- waking up at a sleepover, lying on the ground in wet pajamas and sleeping bag, surrounded by a crowd of laughing classmates and friends. He could still feel the humiliation of it, even after all this time, and it made him dizzy.
“Billy Thompson’s all over again.” He mumbled miserably. Eddie and Hen glanced at him in concern.
“What?” Eddie asked. “Who is Billy Thompson?”
But Buck didn’t answer. The feeling of being crowded in such an embarrassing condition was starting to make him feel panicky. Eddie was still holding his hand and he gave his best friend’s hand a hard squeeze. Their eyes met.
“Don’t-don’t let everyone see.” Buck whispered, gasping a little in his panic.
“See what?” Eddie asked, confused.
“Don’t let them see that I… my-my pants.” Buck said, struggling to get the words out.
It took Eddie a second to understand and instinctively he rolled his eyes -- trust Buck to be worried about being judged in about something so silly in a situation this dire -- but his tone was soft as he replied to his friend.
“Buck, nobody cares--”
“Ple-please, Eddie. Please.” Buck said, cutting him off. And he sounded so serious and so miserable.
Somewhere in the distance, Eddie could hear movement, a lot of people approaching. He glanced up and took in the sight of dozens of civilians coming toward them. To help lift the truck, he realized. A thrill of hope swooped through his own chest, but he glanced down at Buck, remembering his plea. Buck would hate for all these people to see him like this even if none of them were paying attention.
Eddie looked around, trying to figure out how to offer Buck some privacy. There was no real way to shield him from view. But then Eddie glanced down at his LAFD jacket. He could at least give Buck some coverage. He briefly released his tight grasp on his friend’s hand so he could unzip the fleece, and then he draped it over Buck’s middle before grabbing his hand again. Buck didn’t speak, but he gave Eddie’s hand another grateful squeeze and let out a heavy breath.
Hen caught Eddie’s eye and offered a nod and a small smile.
“Just until we get you in the ambo for a full assessment, Buck.” She said gently.
“Yeah,” he said, with as much of a nod as he could muster.
By then, the onlookers had gathered around the truck, everyone aiming to get some kind of grip on the truck so they could help lift. Chimney counted them off and then pain rushed into Buck’s leg as the pressure from the truck finally released. He screamed again and Eddie and Hen dragged him across the asphalt, finally free of the truck. The gathered crowd cheered, but Buck could hardly focus. The numbness he had enjoyed before gave way to immense pain. Absently, he noted that was probably a good sign as far as spinal injuries.
His team had moved quickly to get him onto a backboard and then a stretcher, and finally loaded into the ambulance. As they moved toward the vehicle, Hen offered Chim and Bobby the full medical rundown on Buck, and he winced as she relayed “loss of bladder control” as one of his symptoms. She glanced at him apologetically, but he knew it was coming. “Bigger fish,” he reminds himself. The edges of his vision are starting to go dark and he’s beginning to feel cold again.
“Stay with us, Buck,” She says, seeming to note the shift in his condition.
“Just stay with us, kid,” echoes Bobby’s comforting voice from somewhere to his side, and he feels the older man give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. As they lift him into the vehicle and Chim and Eddie climb in beside him, Eddie never lets go of his hand.
“Hang in there, buddy,” his friend says, part encouragement and part command. The last coherent thought Buck is aware of is that however bad this situation is, at least he’s surrounded by his family.
****
Carla was there when Buck woke up after surgery, and it surprised him.
“You came?” He asked in wonder, and she rolled her eyes before assuring him that of course she came after seeing her friend in trouble on TV. Buck blinked, trying to comprehend what she was saying. He was on tv?
His mind flashed back without warning and he was on the asphalt again, fire truck on top, crowd closing in, and him exposed, weak, helpless. The dizzying panic washed over him again briefly, and he shook his head slightly to ward it off. Then his gaze fell on his leg, casted and strung up above the bed. He tried to picture the damage that must lie underneath the plaster, the stitches, and finds himself panicking again.
Carla dismissed his concerns about work, reminding him to be grateful he’s alive. And he was. He was so grateful. But it also didn't quite feel real, being alive. Like some part of him was still trapped under that truck and can’t get free. And the only thing that could fix it was being able to save people again instead of being the one in need of saving.
Ali and Maddie came by next and he did his best to visit with them, but his thoughts were replaying what he remembers of the bombing and the aftermath over and over again.
***
Later, when he settled into being awake and in the hospital a bit more and it all felt less like a twisted dream, the 118 came by to see him. They were all there -- Eddie, Chim, Hen, and Bobby. His family. His team. Achingly he wondered if that’s even what they are anymore. Or is that something the bombing took from him? Along with the use of his leg, his strength, and even a bit of his own dignity, he thought, wincing at the memory of asking Eddie to cover up his wet pants so no one would see.
He glanced over at his best friend, who was rubbing a weary hand across some next-day stubble.
“I-I’m sorry about your jacket,” he said quietly, not quite making eye contact as his cheeks flushed.
Eddie chuckled, but there was a gentle understanding in his smile.
“No worries, man. Nothing a trip to the cleaners can’t fix.” He resisted the urge to ask Buck if the doctors had found any medical cause -- spinal injury or otherwise. That was Buck's business which Eddie was sure he wouldn't want to discuss with the whole team.
And Buck was grateful that Eddie didn't make a big deal out of it, even if the thought of his best friend explaining what happened to the cleaners makes his gut twist.
“Not exactly something you expect to have to do on a call, though. Or for a friend.” Buck said, forcing an awkward laugh to keep things light.
“Want to make it up to me?” Eddie said, after a moment, and Buck looked at him, questioning.
“Tell us who Billy Thomson is.”
Eddie looked at Hen with a knowing smile, and she turned her attention to Buck too, eager for an answer.
“B-billy Thomson?” Buck asked a little breathlessly. How did they know?
“Yeah, when you were under the truck you said something about how it’s like Billy Thomson’s all over again. Right after you realized you, uh, weren’t bleeding around your right thigh like you thought.”
“I said that out loud?” Buck asked with a gulp. Eddie and Hen just nodded. Chimney looked curious now too, leaning in. And Bobby was still sitting back in his chair with that calm demeanor he seemed to always have, but his eyes had opened a little wider.
“So spill it,” Eddie prompted again. “What’s the story on Billy Thomson?”
Buck felt his face grow hot and found he couldn’t quite make eye contact with his team. This wasn’t a story he told anyone--had never told anyone really, except Maddie. And he was not looking forward to his team’s response. But he guessed he did owe it to Eddie. He forced himself to look at his best friend with a self-deprecating shrug.
“Billy was - uh - he was like the most popular kid in my grade. He had a sleepover to celebrate the end of the school year and I-I um…” Buck’s voice caught in his throat and he coughed a little, trying to get the words out. “I kind of-kind of had an accident that night?”
He grimaced at his own word choice.
“An accident?” Hen asked in a voice like she was trying to confirm what he meant. “You mean… like a kid accident? Like you peed your pants?” She asked, emphasizing the last three words.
Buck knew his face was turning scarlet and he huffed out another embarrassed laugh.
“Yeah, I-I mean it was my pajamas, actually. And my sleeping bag.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “When I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t really figure out how to hide it. Billy saw me and then he and the rest of the guys were standing over me and laughing.”
Buck shook himself, trying to get out from the grip of the memory.
“Kind of the most embarrassing moment of my life, honestly. They-they, uh, called me Wetvan Buckley til I made the football team in high school,”
He admitted, wincing.
"That's a terrible nickname," Chimney said with a groan. "I'm sure we can come up with something better." Buck glared in his direction.
“Wait a minute--when was this?” Eddie asked. Buck dared a glance at his best friend and found him smirking and way too amused. Bucked winced as he answered.
“Um… 7th grade.” he ground out and then, “yeah, yeah, I know,” as soon as the others started exclaiming in surprise and amusement at how old he was.
“So was it the old hand in warm water prank, then?” Bobby asked. Buck glanced up at his boss before he could stop himself. Bobby was smiling like the others, but the question had his gentle touch to it. Buck felt like he was trying to help, but unfortunately he had no idea what Bobby was talking about.
His confusion must have shown on his face because Eddie jumped in.
“You know -- you put someone’s hand in warm water while they’re sleeping, it makes them piss the bed. Classic sleepover shenanigans.”
This whole concept was news to Buck, but he thought about playing it off, claiming that was what happened after all. Chimney opened his big, fat mouth before he could though.
“Oh no. No prank necessary.” He threw out, giving Buck an all-too-knowing smile. Buck's eyebrows raised in alarm as he realized what was coming, and he opened his mouth and held out his hand to try and stop Chimney, but it was too late. “Little Buck had, uh, a bit of a bedwetting problem growing up.”
Buck groaned in embarrassment before he could stop himself and covered his burning face with his hands. “I’m going to kill my sister,” he grumbled in a muffled voice.
“Wait, so you were still wetting the bed regularly… in 7th grade?!” Eddie exclaimed, incredulous. "That's... wow. Okay, that is pretty embarrassing."
“No!” Buck said automatically. “I mean, I-I thought it had st-stopped by then. That’s why I went to the sleepover. And then… you know. But that was pretty much the last time!”
At that moment--a nurse bustled into the room to check his vitals and the conversation halted. When she left again a few minutes later, he meekly said, “Can we please never talk about this again?”
“Oh, totally.” Eddie said, holding his hands up. And beside him, Chimney and Hen were nodding with barely contained laughter while Bobby just looked on with that small smile of his. Buck knew there was no way they were never going to talk about this again.
With a sigh, he laid back against his pillows and stared up at the ceiling. He could tell his face was still a little pink.
He knew it was all ancient history that shouldn’t still embarrass him quite as much as it did, and that what had happening during the bombing was unrelated--just a freak thing born out of major physical trauma. And he knew his team might tease him endlessly about it all now, but it was all in good fun. They were relieved he was okay and still available for teasing.
While Hen and Chim devolved into whispers and quiet giggles with one another--sparing only an occasional glance in Buck's direction--and Bobby watched everything quietly from a distance, Eddie nudged Buck's arm from where he sat right next to his best friend's hospital bed. "You okay?" He asked. And Buck offered a small, slightly pained smile.
"Yeah, you-you know," he shrugged, flushing slightly again, "... just embarrassed. What with the whole peeing myself in front of my whole team and half of Los Angeles, and then having you all find out my biggest secret from childhood."
"Buck," Eddie started, and Buck both loved and hated the softness in Eddie's voice. "Look, seriously. What happened the other day... could've happened to any of us -- you know that. How many times have we encountered something like that on a scene?"
Buck nodded, because he did know. But he also sighed because he was still having a hard time accepting it. "You know, just-just, like I said, kind of a sensitive subject for me. Brings back memories. Which everyone I care about now knows about." Buck said, remembering the conversation all over again and groaning. He really was going to have some words with Maddie about how many embarrassing secrets of his she shares with her boyfriend.
Eddie gave a knowing grin, but he also gave Buck's arm a reassuring squeeze. "I hope you know we're just joking around. We've got all embarrassing childhood memories."
"Want to make me feel better and share one of yours?" Buck asked, smiling despite himself. "Not a chance," Eddie says, shaking his head vigorously and laughing.
"Just know we don't really think any different of you." And Buck let out a breath, nodding. "I-I know."
"Especially since you were already the baby of the team." Eddie tacked on with raised eyebrows and playful shrug.
"I hate you," Buck said, shoving his friend as he felt his cheeks heat up again, but he gave Eddie a half smile to show he didn't mean it.
Buck did his best to shake off the embarrassment and reminded himself that his team already knew plenty of ridiculous things about him and loved him anyway. And if nothing else, he told himself as his leg twinged painfully, at least the embarrassing conversation had taken his mind off his current difficulties for a few minutes and reminded him of the good people he had around him. Even if this did forever cement his role as the baby of the family.