Chapter Text
Buck was depressed. But he didn't admit it.
All he did was lie in his bed, wasting away the daylight as he wallowed in his own misery. For months, all that had followed him was the terrible weight of pain and sadness as he worked tirelessly to regain his athleticism after his leg was crushed by a firetruck. He would always remember those days between being discharged from the hospital, and re-taking his certification test as being some of the worst in his life. And compared to some of the other stuff he had been forced to endure, that was saying something. But, he grit his teeth and endured the agony, endured being unable to move properly, endured the painful spasms and cramps. All to return to the place he loved the most.
The firehouse was his home. Before he had become a firefighter, he was simply a lost soul that haunted long roads. Driving along in his Jeep, searching for something that made him feel whole. Being a firefighter was that something, and he had become contempt with the fact that he would never need to endure another lonely search for acceptance again. That part of his life was over, that journey was complete.
It had been only a fleeting moment of joy when the training captain announced that he had passed his re-certification test with flying colours (even setting a new record not to brag.) His eyes shone with exhilaration and he adopted a new spring in his step. He was so pleased to have finally escaped the dark hellhole that was his life after the bombing. He didn't think he would ever be able to endure something like that again. Bobby and Athena's party for him only amplified his excitement to return as he looked around at the bright faces of the people he had come to know as family. That night should have been one of the best.
But then he developed a cough he couldn't seem to shake.
Then he felt his throat begin to burn.
Then he looked down and saw his shaky hands painted scarlet with the glistening droplets of his own blood.
Then it all went black.
Waking up in the hospital was terrifying. Not only because he was afraid of what the doctor might say, but because Maddie was looking at him with a face of thunder. He wanted to shrink back into the bed and hide, fearful of his sisters words. What he said to the doctor was true. He didn't know that he could have developed a blood clot, he did genuinely think he had a leg cramp. At his PT appointments his trainer had mentioned that he could experience chronic pains in his leg as a side effect, so of course Buck assumed that was what the pain he felt was. But Maddie didn't seem to believe him, and it made it all so much worse. Everyone thought that Buck didn't care about his health. They all assumed he was bypassing his physical needs in order to return to work. And he hated it. Sure, he had made a couple dumb decisions in his past that certainly didn't put him in the safest situations, but he wasn't actually an idiot. He had been working so damn hard to get better, and everyone seemed to turn a blind eye on his progress the second things didn't go quite to plan. It was always the same story, careless, reckless, idiotic Buck. Doesn't think before he acts and always throws himself into danger to act the hero.
So yeah, it wasn't surprising that Buck had lost all motivation to even move.
He had thought he was finally free of the shackles that bound him, but in reality, they had only been removed so that heavier ones could be added. He didn't realise how good he had had it until it all got so much worse. He thought he had hit rock bottom before, but in reality he was barely a metre under the surface. Now he had hit rock bottom, and it was a terrible fate.
He groaned when the covers were suddenly yanked off of him, exposing his pale frame to the blinding sun. He blinked up in a haze to see Eddie standing over him.
"Why man?" Buck muttered, yanking the covers back over his head and disappearing into the calm darkness that enveloped him.
But of course, Eddie persisted, and Buck found himself storming downstairs, anything to get away from him. Eddie followed, lecturing Buck about his current state.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," he said.
And that's how Buck found himself going to the pier with Christopher.
In hindsight, he should have been angry at Eddie. Buck could have been having a whole breakdown and Eddie showed up unannounced to throw the responsibility of babysitting at him. But he couldn't start a fight in front of Chris, and that was all apart of Eddie's genius plan. So Buck got changed, grabbed Chris' bag and headed out, ignoring his legs painful stiffness as it complained from underuse.
The sirens began to blare loudly over the sounds of a screaming crowd.
Everyone was frantically running towards land. Women clutching their children, men grabbing their wives hands, elderly people hobbling along accepting help from those brave enough to offer it. There were a few lone officers who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, waving their arms like a gear turning, screaming at people to run for their lives. Buck had grabbed Chris, hauling him over his shoulder so that it would be easier for him to run, and he bolted. His feet slamming into the wood of the pier due to the extra weight. He could hear the deafening sound of rushing water, so loud it felt as though it was being played from a speaker right next to his ear. It rattled his bones and sent chills down his spine. With a pang of pure terror, he realised that there was no possible way for him to outrun this wave, especially with Christopher dangling from his shoulder. He was not going to let Eddie's son die. He refused. He was going to do everything he could to protect him, even if it meant using his own body as a shield.
His eyes caught on a stand on the side of the pier. Despite it being definitely not strong enough to withstand the force of the wave that was thundering towards them, it was better than nothing. Buck practically threw Christopher over the side, feeling the saltwater spray latch itself onto his skin. He turned, and faced nothing but a wall of blue. he flung himself over the side of the wall and laid on top of Chris. His entire body covering the boy and pressing him as close to the wall of their makeshift shelter as he could. Buck held on to Chris for dear life as the wave slammed on top of them.
For a few moments, Buck knew nothing but pain. The full force of the wave had struck him, ripping him away from the stall as easily as ripping a blade of grass from the ground. Buck had wrapped his entire body around Chris, like a koala clinging to a tree. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, he couldn't breathe. He didn't know which way was up or which way was down. He held onto Chris, allowing the wave to carry him away. But another powerful surge slammed into him once more, and Chris slipped from his grasp. Buck was sent into a blind panic, desperately grabbing through the empty water to try and find the boy. His hands outstretched as he swam with all his energy.
No no no no no, he couldn't loose Chris.
Buck was drowning. An iron-clad fist was clenching his lungs so tight they felt like they could burst. The disgustingly salty taste of seawater sent a burning agony through his throat and chest, his limbs ironically feeling like they were alight with hungry flames as a agonising burning sensation caused his muscles to shake and spasm. There was nothing but water. He was going to die.
His head broke through to the open air. He gulped it hungrily, urging his lungs to inflate faster. The whole was a blurry mess and his vision struggled to regain itself due to lack of oxygen. Sharp bursts of pain hit him aggressively as he was struck by floating debris, at one point he slammed into a building wall, which damn near made him loose consciousness. Once he had gotten enough air to control himself, his raspy voice began to wail into the chaos.
'Christopher! Chris! Christopher!"
It was a horrible plea, a beg to the heavens. Please let Chris be okay.
"Buck!" A terrified voice broke through the sounds of rushing water. Christopher was clinging to a power-line post.
It was as if the exhaustion had vanished. The pain was reduced to nothing but a slight setback as his eyes locked on Chris. He allowed the current to drag him, fighting with every breath to get closer, begging Chris to hold on. When he slipped underwater, Buck thought the world might just end. But Buck grabbed a fistful of his shirt, and hiked him up into his arms
"I got you," Buck panted.
They found an abandoned firetruck, nearly submerged from the wave. Thankfully, the roof was still free of water. With trembling arms Buck used his last remaining strength to shove Chris onto it, before heaving himself up after him. He laid there for a moment, on his stomach like a beached whale, heaving and coughing up all the water that had made it's way into his system. He was in so much pain, but Christopher was his priority. He dragged himself with a wet squelch down to sit beside the kid. Hugging him close and promising that everything would be okay. They then sat in silence, Buck heaving in all the air he could fill his lungs with, urging the nausea and dizziness to leave him alone.
"Help!" A terrified scream came from further down the waterlogged street. Despite his exhaustion, Buck lifted his head to get a better look. A young woman was clinging to the side of a building, fighting with everything she had to hold on. Dread instantly seeped into Buck's core. He couldn't leave her, he couldn't let her die. He had made a promise when he became a firefighter that he would give everything he had to save others, and uniform or not, he was not going to break that promise now.
"Okay hang on!" He yelled, his voice hoarse from his previous screaming. "I'm gonna come to you!"
He knelt down, looking at the boy he had just saved. "Okay Chris, i'm gonna need you to stay right here, okay?"
"Okay." Chris agreed.
Buck surveyed the watery obstacle course that was laid out in front of him. He grabbed the hose from the engine and flung the ladder out horizontally to create a walkway to an abandoned car. With legs that felt like they were going to give out at any second, he made his way across the dangerously slippery surfaces of the car roof's, until a hand appeared underneath him.
"Help!" A man cried, trapped in his half-flooded vehicle, unable to fit through the window.
"I'm gonna come back for you, I promise." Buck assured him desperately, feeling slightly hysterical at this point.
There was no other option, Buck dove into the icy water once more. As soon as he did, his body screamed at him as it worked overtime to fight the powerful current. Buck floundered a little hopelessly for a few seconds, before he reached a tree and wrapped the hose around it. He had created a barrier that the current should (hopefully) wash the woman right towards.
"Okay!" He cried "you can let go!"
The woman listened, flailing about as the water took her captive. Buck clambered along the hoseline, lining himself up to catch her. The force of her body hitting him nearly sent his hand flying off the hose, but he held on with all. his might, managing to get the lady on top of the truck.
"Will you watch him?" Buck requested to her, still needing to retrieve the other man.
"Buck!" Christopher said, pointing behind Buck.
Loud, terrified screams filled the air. Multiplying with every second that passed. Another surge had carried about 20 new people down the street.
Buck let out a sob. He couldn't believe this was happening. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his bed. This is what he gets for facing the world that clearly hates him. He steeled his distraught expression into one of complete calmness, people would panic is their rescuer was, and dove back into the fray.
He spent close to an hour, diving into the water, grabbing soaking hands and waterlogged fabric, dragging people with all his might to the safety of the truck. Every time he thought it was over, another scream ripped through the air, and he didn't hesitate to dive in after them. Maybe what everyone else had said about him was right. Maybe he did ignore his own health for the sake of "playing the hero." Either way, glory seeking or not, people were getting saved. His body was practically begging him to stop, with every new rescue the pain increased and the dizziness worsened until he could barely see, but he kept swimming.
Buck saved 35 people lives in one hour.
Finally, he thought, it's over.
He collapsed onto the truck, shaking from head to foot and feeling sicker than ever before, but he ignored it, not wanting to scare Chris. His dimly noticed a sticky feeling running down his hand, the vibrant shade of red coating it could only indicate one thing, but his mind was processing much slower than usual, so it didn't register how much danger he was in.
That's when the wave receded.
Christopher was right there, not a moment ago, but when Buck looked back, he was gone.
"Christopher!" Buck cried, his voice cracking and broken.
This time he didn't pause, not even for a moment, he flew into the water, allowing himself to get washed away in the churning current, grabbing onto anything he could find in the hopes that it would be Chris. He had him. He was right there. And now he was gone again.
Buck had been walking for close to 6 hours. It was late at night and the sky had turned a pitch black. The streets were covered in a shimmering layer of water. Broken pieces of people's lives were scattered about in huge piles on the sides of the roads, memories lost in a single day. The signs of pain and suffering were strewn about so frequently that LA had resembled a war-zone. Bodies with soaked skin and glassy eyes were trapped under splintered pieces of rotting wood. Windows were smashed in and plants had been ripped from the earth.
Christopher's glasses hung like an ominous omen from his neck. A constant reminder that he had lost him, that Christopher wasn't around, that he had failed.
He had reached the emergency hospital that had been set up. He had stumbled from tent to tent, checking every list he came by and refusing multiple offers to be examined himself. He could still stand, therefore, he could still search. His leg was sending stabbing pains up his system, and he was shaking from both the cold and exhaustion. His hand was still steadily dripping blood, the feeble bandage he had conjured with a piece of ripped fabric was already soaked through. All he could do was put one step in front of the other, and find Chris.
But he laid eyes on Eddie, who had been walking out of the building. Of course he was here.
"Buck?" Eddie called, concerned. Buck obviously looked like he had been dragged through hell and back three times over.
He would never forget the way Eddie's eyes filled with tears as Buck tried to explain. His throat so tight it felt knotted as he told his best friend that his son was dead because of him. Eddie would never look at him the same way again. Hell, Eddie would never lay eyes on Buck again. Nobody was going to keep him around after this. Not even the 118. But then there was a shout, and Eddie was brushing past Buck. He cant bear to be around you anymore, Buck thought.
"Buck!" That voice was familiar, and Buck turned to see Christopher, very much alive, being wrapped into a very tight hug by his dad. Eddie looked back at Buck, who had finally reached the point of hysteria. He huffed out desperate gasps of relief, feeling his whole body start to shut down underneath him.
"Buck?" Chimney was in front of him, Hen beside him. They were both looking at him with the utmost concern. Bobby turned to see Eddie with Chris, and seemed to put two and two together.
"You guys okay?" He asked.
"Yeah, yeah we're-" Exhaustion had got the better of him. His legs physically refused to carry on with his brains antics. They collapsed, and Buck allowed himself to be caught by his teammates. He clung onto their arms like a lifeline, shaking and feeling the full consequences of the days events.
Buck had spent a few days in the hospital, feeling like he had been pummelled by a truck about 5 times, and then hit by a bus.
But the tsunami had given him one thing (besides a truckload of trauma) and that was determination. He had fought for his life in those waves, and he would be an idiot to let all his efforts go to waste now. So despite his absolute hatred of the job, Buck became a fire marshall. He pushed away the feelings of misery that began to creep up behind him once more, and toughed it out, hoping that eventually his efforts would be rewarded with his old job back.
Buck, desperate to see the firehouse, had decided to give the 118 their results for the drill they had recently participated in in person. He strolled in, lacking his usual enthusiasm but still happy to be there, holding his clipboard. They had all greeted him happily, but seemed slightly confused as to why he was there. He brushed it off, instead handing Bobby the report.
"I got fancy with the math." Buck explained proudly.
"But, you're terrible at math-" Eddie pointed out.
"Which will be my excuse if anybody questions it." Buck smiled.
"Hey Diaz, need a spot over here." Another firefighter Buck had never seen before called.
"Coming!" Eddie responded, clapping buck on the shoulder "good to see you man," he said before running off.
"Who's that?" Buck asked, feeling a little rejected as Eddie had already left so quickly. At Buck's question, Chimney and Hen both quickly walked away.
"Lena Bosko, her station was hit by the tsunami so I brought her here."
Buck felt a pang of hurt in his chest. They had hired another firefighter. Another person to sit in his seat, and sleep in his bunk and spot Eddie (which was always his job). He had always been reassured by everyone else that he wasn't replaceable, that they still wanted him. But it was hard to believe when they all seemed so eager to escape his presence.
"You replaced me?" Buck asked in a wounded voice.
"What no?" Bobby scoffed.
"Then what's that?" Buck said, a little angry now as he pointed to his locker. His name had been taped over with the word Bosko. Sure seemed like a replacement to him.
"Buck you're place will still be here for you, when you are ready." Bobby reassured him.
"I'm ready, now." Buck urged, the all too familiar frustration threatening to overwhelm him.
At that moment, the bell began to ring. Bobby bade him a hurried goodbye and Buck watched his team, his family, turn their backs on him. Furious, Buck stormed over to his locker and ripped away the tape. Revealing the words underneath.
Buckley
Buck was back to his old depressed ways. He hadn't spoken to anyone in about a week and it was starting to affect him mentally. He awoke every night, shaking and soaked with sweat from dreams of rushing water and people screaming. Nobody had asked him if he was okay after the tsunami, they just showed up at his bedside in the hospital, kept him company when they needed to and then went on their merry way. The weight of loneliness was threatening to pull him under.
Often, he found himself curled up on his bathroom floor, too overcome with emotion and the painful sting of abandonment to properly cope. The perfect mask he managed to put on on a day to day basis was slowly beginning to crack. He sobbed into his hands, cursing the world for ripping away everything he loved. He probably deserved it, but it didn't hurt any less.
When Bobby and Athena had invited him over for dinner, he jumped at the chance. He was starved of human contact and connection, that even a simple, three-person meal was the highlight of his week. He laughed and joked and savoured the delicious food in front of him. He allowed himself to let go of the pain and just enjoy the moment.
Until Bobby confessed that it was all his fault.
Bobby was the reason Buck couldn't return to work.
Bobby was the reason Buck had been lying, too depressed to move, in his bed for a week.
Bobby was the reason Buck was suffering in a job he despised and got made fun of for.
Bobby was the reason his name was covered by tape.
Bobby was the reason Buck's life seemed to be crumbling around him.
Buck had stormed from the house, his anger quickly fading into tears as he stumbled back into his loft. He didn't even make it to the bathroom this time. Instead, he sank onto the kitchen tile, gasping for air. He was having a panic attack, his face shone with sweat and his whole body heaved as he sucked in air that didn't seem to be present. He was trapped in a vacuum chamber. His hands shaking and his eyes releasing a flood of tears. The attack went on until his body was just simply too exhausted to continue. He fell asleep, tears drying on his face, curled up in a ball on his kitchen floor.
He had made a lot of stupid decisions in his life.
If you asked anybody who knew him they could probably give you a detailed list. Sure, the bombing was not his fault in the slightest, and yet somehow the blame was turned back on him when everyone seemed to ignore the efforts he was making towards his health. He was working tirelessly to regain his motion, and yet all anybody could see was the fact that he wanted to return to his job. Then the embolism happened and everybody blamed him. Believing that he was just too negligent and he should've known better. The tsunami was not his fault either, but again, it seemed to turn into Buck being shunned by everyone around him when he needed them the most. Made fun of by the rest of the 118 when he just tried to do his job as a fire marshal. He ignored Hen's comment of him being a "hall monitor," although it stung. He ignored them taping over his name, despite his clear discomfort about it. He ignored so much, and pushed so much aside. But finding out that Bobby was the reason for all his pain, pushed him over the edge.
The lawsuit was probably the worst thing he had ever done. He regretted it deeply. But he didn't regret his reasoning behind it. He was back at the 118. But he wasn't the same.
He wasn't allowed to go on calls, instead being given the entire stations chores. he was bullied mercilessly by anyone who found him worthy of attention. None of the other 118 members tried to speak to him. Everything just kept getting worse. Buck was starting to break. Nightmares were getting more frequent, the feeling of being ignored sent waves of anger and misery down his spine, but he never dared to act upon these feelings. He hated life, he hated everything, he hated himself.
Buck walked into the station one day, head hung as low as it could possible go without snapping his neck. He was trying to conceal the heavy bags under his eyes that betrayed the fact that he had not slept at all over the past week. He had been making an effort to come in early and leave late in order to get all his jobs done, and that combined with nightmares was tearing him apart. All the fight he once had in him, all his arguments and complaints about the unfairness of everyones treatment of him, seemed to ebb away the longer the isolation went on. He was resigned to being hated forever. He laid down and allowed everyone to walk all over him, because clearly, he didn't deserve anything better.
He began to complete his chores. Starting by rolling up the hoses that the other firefighters were using as training, and graciously left behind for the stations glorified maid to take care of. Everyone else started to arrive, nobody sparing him so much as a glance. Buck hadn't expected anything better, so he continued with his work, ignoring the painful twinge in his back as he did so. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, until Bobby's voice, firm and demanding rang out over the bannister.
"Buckley, get up here."
Buck sighed, either he was in for another lecture or Bobby had more jobs to give him. He half walked-half stumbled his way up the loft stairs, rubbing his eyes. He paused when he looked at the table. It was covered in letters and a variety of gifts and other baked goods. Oh great, Buck thought, Bobby's going to make me do a job up here and eat everything to rub it in my face. Buck was already practicing his "I couldn't care less" expression, when he noticed the name on multiple cards.
Firefighter Buckley
Evan Buckley
Firefighter Buck
Buck
The letters were for him? He had never been more confused. He noticed he was not the only one. Eddie, Hen and Chim were all examining the letters with equal confusion. But were also looking at Buck with strange expressions on their faces. It wasn't the usual angry glare, but a softer look.
"Well, go on they are for you." Bobby said, waving an arm half-heartedly to encourage Buck.
Buck walked forward as though he was in a daze, and picked up the first letter.
Dear Firefighter Buckley
I am sending this letter directly to your chief because you mentioned you were on sick-leave from your firehouse, so I hope it finds you. I just wanted to write to you to say how appreciative I am of your efforts during the tsunami. Despite already being safe on top of a firetruck yourself, you didn't hesitate to jump back into the water to save my life. I was so scared, but your reassurance and comfort made it all bearable. I hope you are well and I thank you again. You are a hero.
Buck let out a small gasp as he read the letter. He couldn't believe what was happening. He picked up another.
To whoever this may concern.
I am writing to you in regards to a young firefighter from station house 118, I believe his name is "Buck." This firefighter (who was off duty at the time) saved my life during the tsunami, as well as the life of my wife. I had been watching as he saved multiple other people from the water, and despite physically shaking from pure exhaustion, he dove into the water to rescue me. The current was so incredibly strong that diving back in, especially in his condition, was a death wish. But he did it anyway because he saw I needed help. Without him I wouldn't be alive today and for that I am forever grateful. He saved the lives of about 30 others on that day and I strongly encourage you to commend him for his efforts.
Buck felt as though he was caught in a dream. He even pinched himself to be sure.
To Firefighter Evan Buckley
I am writing this letter to you to thank you for saving my life during the tsunami. I am a registered nurse and finding out that you were on blood thinners after risking your life to drag me from the water was a shock. You were injured and showing all the signs of severe exhaustion, as well as immense pain, but you never once stopped to consider yourself. If you had, people would have died. Nobody would have blamed you for giving up and letting someone else try to take over the job, but you never did and you fought like hell to save us all, which you did. I hope you have recovered from the event and thank you greatly for your bravery and courage.
Buck opened one more letter, his eyes starting to burn with tears.
To: Fire chief of the 118
Firefighter Evan Buckley saved my life, as well as the lives of many others during the tsunami, and I believe you should hear about your employees remarkable efforts. I was on the verge of drowning when your firefighter emerged from nowhere like a guardian angel. He had scratches on his face, was bruised and bleeding and covered in mud, but still, he smiled at me and told me that I was going to be okay. He told me his name and that he was an off-duty firefighter from your house. He made everyone feel safe that day. He risked his life several times to pull people out of the water, even when he was bleeding heavily from a wound on his arm. When someone he had rescued pointed out the amount of blood, suggesting that it could be a very large wound, Buckley simply shook them off, announcing that the wound was actually quite small, but that he was on blood thinners, before diving into the water once again to save another life. Your firefighter risked everything, despite being greatly injured himself to save the lives of others and I hope you will take this letter into account and give him the praise he so rightly deserves.
Buck just stared at the table for a moment, suddenly aware that everyones eyes were on him. He awkwardly set the letter down, blinking rapidly to rid himself of the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. It felt so good to receive praise. But then again, he was just doing his job. Anybody else would have done the same, he just happened to be unlucky enough to be there when it happened.
"Why didn't you mention that?" Eddie's voice jerked him out of his stupor. Buck turned to look at him, expression blank.
"Did you ask?" He said quietly. This caused everyone to pause. Buck turned to Bobby.
"Go ahead," he said sharply, the letters motivation suddenly giving him his fight back "lecture me for being an idiot, for throwing myself into the fray when I could have ended up killed, I don't care anymore."
Bobby remained silent, just looking at Buck with a stunned expression, clearly not expecting his outburst. But there was more where that came from.
"You know what? I'm sick of this." He said angrily, "I have stood by and let you all treat me like I am some crazy work-driven machine whose only purpose in life is to be a firefighter. Sure, I was working my ass off to try and get back here, but I was also working my ass off to remember how to walk again, which everyone seems to somehow forget. The embolism was not my fault. I was told by professionals that my leg might cause me pain! I'm so sorry I didn't have a bloody X-ray present to identify whether my minor leg cramp was a freaking embolism!"
Buck was surprised steam wasn't coming out of his ears at this point.
"All of you sat by and kept telling me that I was never going to be replaced, and then you have the goddamn audacity to tape over my name with someone else's, and not even bother to give me three seconds of your time when I came by to the station! What did I get when I decided to do what you had all been telling me to do for weeks and become a fire marshal? I got teased and ridiculed, and called a hall monitor!" Buck fumed, Hen's face flushed with embarrassment.
"And you sat there and watched as I didn't even have the strength to get out of bed, and still decided that your decision to keep me from a job that I was cleared to do was the right choice! I was depressed and all I got was a kid dumped on my doorstep and a lecture about how my life wasn't over and I needed to move on, yeah, real helpful." Eddie looked at the ground, looking slightly ashamed of himself. Buck didn't care.
"And what about after the tsunami? You would think that people who were constantly exposed to the traumatic effects that natural disasters can have on people would check up on their friend who endured one, but no, I didn't hear from anyone. So yeah, I filed a lawsuit, because I was upset and hurt and abandoned and if any of you had even paid me the slightest bit of attention, you would realise that I was not in the right state of mind, and certainly not okay!" Buck pointed his finger at them, his face glowing red.
"I was manipulated by that damn lawyer, and filing that lawsuit was a stupid decision. But I still stand by the reason I filed it. I had every right to come back to work! I had been cleared! I nearly lost my home because my disability was taken away, but you didn't think of that, did you? Everything that lawyer said was also public record! Anybody could have found that information! And if you hadn't noticed, I won! The court agreed with me that what you were doing was wrong, and yet you still stand by what you did. You were all so caught up trying not to hurt your own feelings seeing me get hurt, that you didn't bother to think about how badly you were hurting me! You walked yourselves into a goddamn paradox. I was offered millions but I refused because all I wanted was my job back, and instead I get treated like the scum of the earth! So yeah, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about how I risked my life to save others, because I did my job, it's nothing impressive. it's not like you made me want to tell you, because apparently everything I do is some dumb, idiotic decision that I never planned out, so I probably would have gotten a lecture about being unsafe. I probably would have been taken off work for even longer! You don't get to stand here and make me suffer anymore because you think you know what's best for me. Despite what you believe, I'm not stupid! I am fully capable of making my own decisions, and I am a grown man!" Buck yelled.
They all stared at him for a few moments, bewildered. The entire station was dead silent.
Buck turned and started grabbing his letters. He stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a few grocery bags, stuffing all his gifts inside before walking out of the station. It felt so good to let out all his anger. All the pain that he had been holding in finally released, like a pot that had over boiled.
He had saved lives. And that was good enough for him. And if they couldn't understand that, then he didn't need them anyway.