Chapter Text
Writing had always been Buck's sanctuary, his cherished escape from the chaos of the world. It wasn't just a hobby; it was a lifeline, the one thing that could steady his heart after the most grueling of days. Since he was a boy, words had been his comfort, his way of making sense of a life that often felt beyond his control.
The need to write took root when everything around him started to crumble, back when Phillip and Margaret Buckley, his biological parents, could no longer find a place for him after Daniel's death. They were grieving, lost in their own sorrow, but Buck could never understand why their grief had meant locking him out.
He was just a kid, confused and heartbroken, forced to figure out why love felt so fragile, so conditional. In his own family, he was an outsider—a living reminder of all they had lost. In the end, they decided it was easier if he wasn't there at all.
Those years in foster care were long and uncertain, and writing was his only constant companion. It was Maddy, his sister, who stood by him, the one person who made him feel like he still mattered, like he wasn't just something that had been cast aside. When new homes and strange faces blurred into a numbing sameness, Buck poured himself into his journals. He filled pages with stories of distant lands and fearless heroes, of families that never left, of love that stayed steady and strong.
Writing was his way to carve out warmth in a world that seemed cold and indifferent, his way to escape the harshness of reality.
It was there for him again when he found a new home with the Nashes. Settling in with them had been anything but easy. Trusting people, believing that they might care, was a leap Buck wasn't sure he could make. But the Nashes were different—patient, kind, unwilling to give up even when he tried to push them away. Slowly, Buck began to feel something he had forgotten: safety. A sense of belonging crept in, fragile at first, but then, slowly, it grew. Maybe, just maybe, he could be part of a family again.
Writing helped him navigate the confusion, the fear, and the tentative hope. He wrote about his journey—about finding a family not bound by blood but by love, about learning that love could be steady, real, and unconditional. His words helped him process the past, helped him heal, and gave him courage to open his heart to the future.
So when Buck finally said, “Dad, I’m going to be a writer,” after quitting the Navy SEALs, it came as no surprise to Bobby Nash. The Navy had once seemed like an answer, a way to prove himself, to find a purpose. Buck thought maybe he could be the hero he’d always imagined in his stories. But the rigid discipline, the pressure to be invulnerable, the constant danger—it wasn't him. He wanted to save people, yes, but not at the cost of his soul. He needed something different, something true to who he was. And so, Buck had walked away from the Navy, ready at last to chase his real dream.
Bobby just smiled, his eyes filled with understanding and pride. “I know, son,” he said, his voice warm. “You’ve always been a storyteller. It’s about time the world heard your stories.”
Buck’s mother, Athena, was more hesitant when she first heard about his decision to become a writer. She had always stood by Buck, supported him through every twist and turn, but this was different. This was uncertain. She had seen how hard he’d fought to find his place in the world, and she worried about whether writing could offer him the stability she so desperately wanted for him. She wanted him to be happy, but she also wanted him to be secure. Writing wasn’t always a sure thing, and Athena, as a mother, wanted to protect Buck from yet another heartbreak.
But then one day, Buck handed her the final draft of his book, “Misfits.” Athena sat down and read it, cover to cover. The story pulled her in from the very first page. She saw pieces of Buck in every character—the struggles, the hopes, the triumphs. The book was raw, honest, filled with the kind of emotion that only someone who had lived through both pain and love could capture. By the time she reached the final chapter, tears filled her eyes. This wasn't just a hobby for Buck. It was his heart, laid bare. It was healing.
When she looked up, Buck stood there, waiting, his eyes filled with nervous hope. Athena smiled, her eyes glistening. “You have a gift, Buck,” she said softly. “This is what you were meant to do. I’m so proud of you.”
Buck’s heart swelled with emotion as his mother pulled him into a hug. Those words meant everything to him. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, that writing would have its challenges, but in that moment, he felt surer of his path than he ever had before. With the support of those he loved most, he knew it would be enough.
When “Misfits” hit the shelves, Buck hadn’t expected the overwhelming response it received. Readers connected with his story in ways he never imagined. Letters poured in from strangers, people who saw themselves in the pages, who thanked him for making them feel seen, understood. His words, his journey, had touched lives. But with the acclaim came something Buck hadn't anticipated: the spotlight.
The interviews, the expectations, the constant scrutiny—it drained him. Buck had never written for fame. He had written to make sense of his world, to find comfort. The attention felt like too much, like it was taking something precious from him.
He turned to the people he trusted most: Maddy, Bobby, and Athena. They talked late into the night, working through his fears. It was Maddy who finally said, “What if you kept writing, but stayed anonymous? Let the stories be out there, but keep yourself out of it.” Bobby and Athena agreed, their love and support unwavering. The goal was simple—for Buck to keep writing, keep sharing, without sacrificing his peace. And so, Buck chose anonymity. He let his stories speak for themselves, without the trappings of fame. It was the perfect compromise—he could still write, still heal, still connect, while staying true to who he was.
The decision brought Buck freedom. He could focus on the stories, the words, the people they touched. It wasn’t about recognition. It was about impact, about connection. And that, for Buck, was enough.
It was a big step when Buck moved out of his parents’ home in LA. The first paycheck from “Misfits” was enough to make it happen. He found a small apartment—cozy, but entirely his own. It was his space to write, to breathe, to grow.
One afternoon, after a meeting with his agent, Buck found himself driving past the harbor fire station. A sign caught his eye—an open house event. Without much thought, he pulled over, curiosity leading him in. The fire station was lively, kids running around, firefighters giving tours, the scent of hot dogs wafting through the air. There was something about the place—the camaraderie, the sense of purpose—that struck a chord deep within him.
As Buck wandered, watching the firefighters share their world with the community, he felt a spark. An idea began to form, something vibrant and urgent. By the time he walked back to his car, he was scribbling notes on the back of receipts, his mind alight with possibilities. It was a story of bravery, of ordinary heroes, of finding a family in unexpected places.
The inspiration was sudden, but it felt right, felt true. And just like that, Buck found himself diving into a new adventure, ready to see where the story would take him.
For Buck, that was the magic of writing—the chance to share hope, to make sense of life’s messiness, to remind others that they weren’t alone. And as long as he had stories to tell, he knew he’d be exactly where he was meant to be.
It took nearly a year for Buck to complete the first draft of what would eventually become the New York Times bestselling book series, "LA's Eyes in the Sky." The first book, which shared the name of the series, only had three drafts before it was picked up and distributed worldwide.
When publication day came, Buck couldn't shake the nerves. He paced back and forth in his small apartment, staring at the cover of the book. It was strange seeing his words under the name Robert Nash Jr., and he couldn't help but wonder if anyone would even pick it up.
"What if nobody likes it?" Buck muttered, running a hand through his hair. He was sitting on the couch with Maddy, who had come over to support him on launch day.
Maddy laughed and nudged his arm. "They’re going to love it, Buck. You’ve got to trust me on this. Besides, you know it’s good—you wrote it."
Buck sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, I hope so. But what if it doesn’t connect? What if firefighters hate it?"
Maddy put her hand on his shoulder, her eyes softening. "You poured your heart into this. You made sure to get every detail right. You talked to real firefighters. You spent so much time making sure it was true to life. They’ll see that. They’ll see how much you respect them."
"I just... I hope you're right," Buck replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He glanced over at the copy of his book on the table. The cover art showed a helicopter hovering over the LA skyline, bathed in the orange glow of a California sunset. It was a beautiful sight, but all Buck could see were his own worries staring back at him.
Two months later, Buck was sitting at his kitchen table when the phone rang. He picked it up, his heart pounding at the sight of the publisher’s number flashing on the screen.
"Hello?" Buck answered, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Robert Nash Jr., I have some good news," his editor, Linda, said, her voice practically buzzing with excitement. "The first book is a hit. It’s resonating with readers—especially firefighters! They love how you portrayed their work, the realism, the camaraderie. And you know what that means..."
Buck’s brow furrowed, his heart skipping a beat. "What does it mean?"
"It means," Linda said, drawing the suspense, "that the publisher wants to turn it into a series. We need more books, Buck. The readers are asking for more!"
"A series?" Buck’s eyes widened, and he slumped back in his chair. "I... Wow. I don’t even know what to say."
"Say yes!" Linda laughed. "You already have the world built. Just keep going, Buck. They want more of LA’s skies. Can you do it?"
Buck swallowed, a smile slowly forming on his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do it."
He hung up the phone, and Maddy, who had been sitting across from him, raised her eyebrows. "Well? What’s the news?"
"They want more books," Buck said, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and excitement. "They want me to make it a series."
Maddy beamed. "See? I told you they’d love it. I knew you could do it."
Buck laughed, his chest feeling lighter. "I guess you were right. I better get to work, then."
He did exactly that, diving headfirst into writing the sequel. The more he wrote, the more the characters came alive, and the world of LA’s air operations expanded. By the time he reached the fourth book, the publisher reached out again—this time with even bigger news.
It was during a meeting with his agent and the publisher when Linda brought it up. They were sitting in a conference room, papers spread out across the table, when Linda leaned forward, her eyes gleaming.
"We’ve been getting inquiries," she said, her voice low, almost conspiratorial. "Movie studios. Streaming platforms. They’re interested in adapting the books."
Buck blinked, stunned. "You mean... like a TV show or a movie?"
Linda nodded. "Exactly. They think it would make a great series—a real action-packed drama. But we wanted to talk to you first. They want you involved, Buck. They want you to oversee the project."
Buck’s heart raced. "Me? But... I’ve never done anything like that before."
His agent, Sarah, smiled. "You won’t be alone. They’ll have a team of experts, showrunners, and screenwriters. But they want your vision—your input on the story and characters. You created this world, Buck. They want you to help bring it to life."
Buck swallowed, glancing at the papers in front of him. It was overwhelming, the idea of his book becoming something that people could watch on a screen. "I don’t know... It’s a lot to think about."
Linda nodded, her voice gentle. "Take your time, Buck. But just know, they really believe in this story. And we believe in you."
A few weeks later, Buck found himself sitting with Bobby in the living room, the paperwork spread out on the coffee table. Bobby looked at the pages, then up at Buck, a smile tugging at his lips.
"This is big, Buck," Bobby said. "A lot of people are going to see your work. You sure you’re ready for this?"
Buck rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his face. "I think so. I mean, it’s scary. But... I think it’s worth it. I want people to see what it’s really like up there. The risks, the bravery. The family."
Bobby nodded. "Then let’s do it. I’ll be here every step of the way. You’re not alone in this."
With Bobby’s encouragement, Buck signed the papers. Soon enough, he was sitting in production meetings, talking with directors, and giving input on scripts. The first time he walked onto the set—a replica of an LA fire station complete with the air operations helipad—Buck felt a strange mix of pride and disbelief.
One day, during location scouting, Buck stood alongside the director, watching as a helicopter hovered in the distance, preparing for a shot.
"It’s surreal, isn’t it?" the director, a man named Greg, said, glancing over at Buck. "Seeing your words come to life like this."
Buck nodded, his eyes fixed on the helicopter as it descended gracefully. "Yeah. It really is. I just hope it does justice to the people who do this every day."
Greg smiled, clapping a hand on Buck’s shoulder. "With you here, making sure we get it right, I think it will."
As they walked back toward the main set, Greg turned to Buck, a grin on his face. "You know, the next big step is casting. We’ve got to find the perfect actors to bring your characters to life. Are you ready for that?"
Buck took a deep breath, a mixture of excitement and nerves buzzing in his chest. "Yeah. Let’s do it. Let’s find our team."
And with that, Buck knew they were about to embark on yet another incredible journey—finding the people who would embody the heroes of LA’s skies, bringing his story to the screen in the most authentic way possible. The casting process was just beginning, and Buck couldn’t wait to see where it would take them next.