Work Text:
2004
“So, this is it. You’re really just… leaving.”
Evan leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest, as Maddie stepped out of her room, final box of belongings in her arms and leaving the bedroom behind her an empty shell of what it once was.
“Come on, Evan, this is going to be good for me,” Maddie implored, a big smile plastered across her face, “Getting away from here, making my own path, venturing into a meaningful career; can’t you be just a little bit excited for me?”
“Sure,” Evan muttered, his eyes dropping to inspect the carpet as he shrugged loosely then grumbled, “and I’m so excited to be stuck here alone.”
“You’re not alone,” she replied softly.
His head shot up, sending her a dubious look, and drawled, “Don’t say Mom and Dad.”
“Well, they’re-” Maddie began but, on his pointed stare, switched up, “Hey, you’ve still got me. We may not be living in the same house anymore, but I’m still your sister and there’s no getting rid of me. It’s like Doug says, ‘Even when you can’t see me, I’m there.’”
Evan raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Creepy.”
“No, not creepy,” Maddie sighed, and she shifted the box in her arms. “It’s romantic. Think of it like… the stars. You can’t see them in the daylight, but they’re still there, waiting for the night so that they can shine. You may not be able to physically see someone, but they’re always in your heart.”
“This thing Doug said; did he say it in the sick-to-the-stomach lovey-dovey sappy rom-com way that you just did, or in a sick-to-the-stomach horror Terminator-esque ‘I can’t be bargained with. I can’t be reasoned with’ way?” Evan asked.
Maddie looked exasperated, “Are you even supposed to be watching the Terminator? Isn’t that R-rated?”
“Alright, Mom,” Evan spoke mockingly. “That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” Maddie asked tiredly. “Promoting the ‘I hate Doug’ bandwagon?”
“Well, if he will insist on you moving seven hours away, I’m not going to be throwing him a party, am I?” he returned defensively.
“He didn’t insist. We decided. Together,” Maddie corrected.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Evan shot back. “That you just can’t wait to bail on me?”
Maddie dropped the cardboard box to the floor, it landing at her feet with a resounding thud. His words had ignited a fire in her eyes, her glare burning into him.
“Have you ever stopped to consider that this has absolutely nothing to do with you, Evan?”
Evan nodded slowly, knowingly, and a wry chuckle escaped his mouth, “Wow. My sister’s life has absolutely nothing to do with me. And here I was worrying that was what was in store for our future. Sorry, I, uh, I didn’t realise we were already there.”
“Right, no, I didn’t mean it like-” Maddie softened, her voice gentler, shoulders dropping and a light sigh escaping her lips as she ran a hand over her eyes, smothering the flames which had consumed them. “Look, Evan, the point I was trying to make about the stars-”
“There was a point to that?” he cut her off dubiously.
“Yes, the point is, like the stars, even when you can’t see me, I’m still here. I’m still your sister,” Maddie navigated them back on topic. “And even though we’ll be over four-hundred miles apart, at night we can look to the sky and know that we’re looking at the same stars as each other.”
He considered her words, accepted her terms and then, a couple of minutes and a wave to a departing car later, she was gone.
The autumn sunlight kept the stars in the sky above at bay, but they were there, biding their time, just as Maddie was also out there, somewhere, waiting on the moon to rise and the stars to reveal themselves.
Until then, he stood in the driveway, alone.
“Hey, Evan, I know it’s been a few days…” her voice sounded hesitant, uncertain.
He scoffed.
“A few days? It’s been weeks, Maddie. Three weeks,” Evan begrudged down the phone, his hand clinging tightly to the device. “You said you’d call. You said we’d still talk. ‘Just a phone call away’, you said.”
“I know, I know…” she spoke with a resigned sigh, “but with the move, unpacking, and getting set up in this new job and the nursing school at nights…”
“You forgot about me,” Evan accused bluntly.
“No!” The protest came fast – the most definitive she had sounded since the call had connected. “It’s just been so… hectic. But things are better now, calmer, we’re settled.”
“Did you even find the time to look to the stars?” Evan asked and threw in a pointed, “Like you said you would?”
“Of course I did,” her voice sounded sincere through the phone. “Every night.”
“Have you seen the Gemini constellation?” Evan asked her eagerly. “It’s best seen in the winter months, but it’s still possible to see it now.”
“The what?”
She sounded baffled.
Three weeks ago, he probably would have been too, but three weeks is a lot of time to read and learn, especially when he no longer had a sister residing just across the hall to annoy. After exhausting the few astronomy books he’d been able to find within the house, he had leapt on his bike and raided the local library’s supply. He stayed up late into the night on many occasions, studying constellation maps, matching them to the stars in the night sky beyond his window. He’d even accidentally pulled a few all-nighters, only the dawning of the sun possessing the power to put an abrupt stop to his activities.
He opened his mouth, more than prepared to explain the constellation to her-
“Never mind,” she moved on. “Mom said you landed yourself in the ER, again. Another broken arm?”
She said it just as he tried, and ultimately failed, to scratch at an itch under the thick, unrelenting cast which encased the entirety of his left forearm.
“It’s nothing,” it was his turn to be dismissive. “It’s fine.”
“How’d you do it this time?” she pried.
“I lost my footing on the roof, pretty sure there was a loose tile up there,” he told her.
“The roof?” she repeated. “What were you doing up there?”
“Trying to get a better view of the Gemini constellation. It would have made an awesome shot on my camera!” Evan defended his actions. “Only I ended up breaking my camera along with my arm.”
“You broke your arm getting pictures of some stars?”
“Not some stars. The Gemini constellation,” Evan urged its importance. “It’s the one which kind of looks like two people holding hands. Castor and Pollux are its two brightest stars, each one found at the heads of the people.”
“I’ll have to look out for it. Why is this particular bunch of stars so important to you?” Maddie questioned.
“It’s not the bunch of stars so much as the symbolism behind them,” Evan returned. The Gemini constellation is engulfed in Greek and Roman mythology; these two brothers, Castor and Pollux, who were said to have an inseparable bond despite their differing parentage. You see, Pollux was the son of Zeus whilst Castor’s father was a mortal.”
“Wait. What’s this got to do with the stars?”
“I’m getting there!” Evan returned indignantly. “Because, their differing parentage meant that Castor was mortal and… well, he died, which left Pollux alone. So Pollux, understandably, prayed to Zeus, asking that they be reunited. Now, Zeus did grant him immortality, only not in the way Pollux was probably imagining when he asked for it. See, the two brothers were placed in the sky, comprising the two brightest parts of the Gemini constellation, hence…”
“The stars being named after them,” Maddie finished knowingly.
“Exactly!” Evan beamed. “Therefore, ensuring that they could always be together.”
“Inseparable.”
“Yeah…” Evan nodded. “So, I guess… every night, I’ve been finding the Gemini constellation and thinking about Castor and Pollux reminded me of what you kept saying-”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily?”
“Mhmm. Exactly.”
2018
As the sun slowly set on another day, hues of pink and purple painted the darkening sky. Buck stood atop an isolated hilltop, his navy blue jacket fluttering in the light mid-winter breeze carried from the ocean. He fought against the breeze in his efforts to lay down a picnic blanket, losing a few battles but persisting and, with the help of some small scavenged rocks, ultimately, won the war. He carefully set the picnic basket down in the centre, pillows and blankets either side and topped it off with a carefully selected, and ridiculously pricey, bouquet of flowers.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself and gave a firm nod of his head after a final sweep with his eyes confirmed that everything was in place. “Not long now.”
He glanced at his watch. Just a few minutes to spare until their agreed meeting time. He glanced around the hilltop; empty, no approaching figure in sight. Just one lone man and his sunset.
Darkness fell.
The stars twinkled overhead. Moonlight shone upon the picnic blanket. Buck lay, alone, propped up on his elbows staring up at the night sky. His eyes lingered on the Gemini constellation, Pollux shining as bright as ever, Castor less so than its usual strength, seemingly hampered by a cloud yet to reach its brighter neighbor.
‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’
He was long overdue a catch-up with Maddie.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m late, I’m so late. I just couldn’t get away from my mother, then I couldn’t find my phone, and then I took a wrong turn…”
Buck scampered to his feet the moment he heard the familiar voice, turning to find Abby hurrying across the hilltop to him, her long gray coat sweeping behind her in her rush, brushing against the tall strands of grass.
“You’re here,” he responded softly. “That’s all that matters.”
He took the few quick steps over to her, offering her his arm – the gentlemanly, non-dickish actions he was going for in this new relationship approach of his – and she took it, seemingly calming as they fell into slower steps together, him leading the way to the picnic blanket.
“Well, this is lovely,” Abby commented as they sat down.
Buck grinned, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Abby confirmed as she eyed the picnic basket. “You’ve brought food?”
“Uh-huh. Don’t worry, it’s a bread-free spread. I even chopped the grapes into quarters too,” Buck told her, determined not to repeat the disaster of their Valentine’s date. “This is a choking-free zone.”
“Good, good,” Abby responded. “As memorable as that day may be, let’s try and find a different way to make this memorable.”
“Oh, for sure,” Buck agreed with a nod. “I’m secretly counting on the meteor shower to assist me with that.”
“That should do it. I can’t say I’ve gone out of my way to watch a meteor shower before,” Abby told him.
“Really?” Buck asked in surprise then caught her wrapping her coat tighter around her, “You cold?”
“Just a little,” Abby confirmed, her breath visible against the cold air.
“The downside of the stars. They’re most visible during autumn and winter months which requires braving the cold to observe them,” Buck commented, pushing himself onto his knees so to delve into the basket. “So, to counteract I’ve got blankets, hot cocoa, flasks and, uh, us – huddle together for warmth, you know, that old trick?”
Abby laughed, “Sounds like a plan.”
It took him a few minutes but Buck eventually got everything together so they could settle in ahead of the meteor shower. He held his flask of cocoa in his left hand, his right arm wrapped around Abby, her head resting against his right shoulder, and a pile of blankets smothering the pair of them. He leaned his own head to his right, hovering slightly above hers as they both looked to the sky.
“So, you see the group of stars that resemble something of a ‘W’ in the sky?” Buck murmured into her ear, using his flask to help indicate towards the sky.
“Mmm?”
“That constellation is called Cassiopeia,” he told her, “But if you now look towards the bottom of the left side of that constellation you have the Perseus constellation. The formation of the stars there look kind of like a man holding a sword.”
“I can sort of see it,” Abby responded distantly.
“It’s not the brightest of constellations, hence why I used Cassiopeia as a reference point,” Buck explained. “But if you can just about make out Perseus’ sword, it points right at Andromeda-”
“Another constellation?” Abby spoke simply.
“Indeed,” Buck nodded eagerly. “Uh, so you know the mythology of Medusa, right?”
“Snake headed thing-”
“Gorgon.”
“-that turned anyone who looked at her to stone, right?”
“Exactly. Then Perseus came along, chopped off her head, that’s the well-known part of the story,” Buck loosely skipped over the less relevant and parts. “The less renowned tale comes on his return home from that triumph. He came across a Princess, Andromeda, chained to a rock, left as a sacrifice to a sea-monster. Perseus, still riding the wind of succeeding in killing Medusa, took down the sea-monster, saved Andromeda and the duo fell in love and went on to get married.”
Buck’s eyes were fixed entirely on the two constellations in question as he retold the details of their stories. Silence fell upon them after he stopped talking, allowing time for Abby to respond, expecting something back. He got nothing. He tore his eyes from the sky, glancing at Abby to find her head burrowed in her phone, the screen lighting up the slight furrow of her brow.
Buck matched her frown; was she bored of the stars?
Abby briefly glanced up, met his eyes, then dropped straight back into her phone with a distant, preoccupied, “I’m listening.”
“Uh, the- the legend goes that once, um, Andromeda died, the goddess Athena put her… in - in the sky…” he spoke hesitantly, entirely distracted by the way her thumbs started moving faster and with more ferocity across her phone screen, “Uh, so she and Perseus could be… together-”
Abby slipped out of his grasp, swiftly pushing herself into a standing position, his arm left hovering in mid-air, forever left hovering on the tip of his tongue.
“I’m sorry, Buck, I’ve got to go,” she apologised.
“But, the meteor shower?”
“It’s a family emergency; my brother. I’m sorry. This has been great,” she spoke fast whilst backing away.
Then she was gone, almost as quickly as she had arrived, like a shooting star – blink and its gone – not even hanging around to answer the barrel of questions he had, or even for him to offer to accompany her.
He flopped back onto the picnic blanket with a huff.
The Gemini constellation shone against the night sky. The two siblings, together. Buck watched, alone.
The Perseus and Andromeda constellations were seemingly right on top of him. Two lovers, together. Buck watched, alone.
A sky full of stars. Shining brightly, together. Buck watched, alone.
The meteor shower came as forecast.
Buck watched, mesmerised but alone.
2019
Buck banged on the door. Hard. His fist shook with anger as it flew against the wood. Adrenaline coursed through his body. He was ready to break the door down if it came to it.
He didn’t believe a word he’d heard. Except, deep down, he did. Eddie had broken the news to him and he wouldn’t joke; not about this. Yet, Buck couldn’t bring himself to dare to believe it, not until he got the full story from the man himself.
The door finally opened. Bobby stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised, relaxing when his brown eyes fell on Buck.
Bobby took in a sharp breath. “Buck.”
“They’ve suspended you? That’s crap! They can’t suspend you!” Buck complained immediately.
He invited himself in, shifting past Bobby and stalking through his apartment to pace near the sofa.
Bobby shut his door and stood by his kitchen counter, his arms folded, eyes shifting as they followed Buck’s movements, “I think you’ll find they can, and they have.”
“Well, there’s got to be something we can do, right?” Buck was thinking on his feet. “We could talk to the chief, uh, drum up a protest, oh! We could start a strike!”
“Or not.” Bobby declined firmly. “How about we start by calming down a little? Sit down, Buck.”
Buck complied, somewhat. He perched right on the edge of the couch, his foot tapping against the floor, his fingers drumming against the arm of the couch.
“Do you want a drink?” Bobby offered.
Buck gave a firm shake of his head.
“Alright, Buck,” Bobby spoke incredibly calmly as he joined the younger man on the couch. “It’s a temporary suspension pending review. It’s entirely possible that I’ll be back in the job before you know it.”
“Mmm, just as it’s entirely possible that they fire you,” Buck returned.
“Well, thanks for the optimism,” Bobby chuckled despite everything.
“I’m sorry, it’s just… people leave, y’know? It’s what they do,” Buck shrugged.
“For what it’s worth, I’m not planning on going anywhere,” Bobby assured him.
“That’s great,” Buck nodded then turned to face him. “Only it’s out of your control, isn’t it? Do you fancy your chances?”
Bobby considered. “I’m hopeful. It’s all I’ve got right now.”
Buck tried his best to muster up a smile in return, his head still swirling with thoughts as he tried to process it all, tried to find a way to accept that, by next shift, they’d have an acting captain assigned. He hated the very idea of it.
“I’m not sure how the 118 works, without you there,” Buck admitted.
“You do the job, as always. You navigate the little differences which may come your way. You trust your instincts,” Bobby told him. “You’re a good firefighter, Buck-”
“Because of you,” Buck pointed out earnestly. “You were there to guide me to this better version of myself that I’m still trying to get to, you know? Like… have you heard of Polaris?”
“The North Star,” Bobby confirmed with a nod.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s the brightest star in the Ursa Minor constellation, used by sailors for centuries to navigate the seas due to its position almost directly above the North Pole making it even more accurate than a compass at indicating true north,” Buck expanded, the information pouring out of him. “To the Mongolian empire, Polaris was the peg holding the world together. Well, that’s you. You’re the North Star of the 118 and without you, we’d be… we will be operating with no direction.”
“That’s very kind of you, Buck,” Bobby spoke with a small smile, “but maybe you should have a little more faith in the team, and whoever gets selected as interim Captain.”
“Like Polaris won’t always be the Earth’s North Pole star?” Buck questioned thoughtfully and on Bobby’s blank look expanded, “Thousands of years from now, Polaris will be replaced and the star Vega will become the new North Pole star, signalling True North.”
“There you go. Life depends on change and renewal,” Bobby went along with it, then took a moment to consider and promptly added, “though hopefully in this case not permanent.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Buck agreed bitterly, standing up once more, “because in Egypt Vega is called Ma’at which means vulture star and, in some cultures, what do vultures symbolise? Death.”
His eyes were wide deep with sincerity, his eyebrows raised, staring expectantly at Bobby.
Bobby stared back up at him, “Do you think, perhaps, Buck, you’re getting a little carried away? It’s a temporary suspension, not an execution order.”
Buck momentarily considered his words then sunk back down onto the couch. He let his head fall back against the top of the couch, staring up at the white ceiling. Above that ceiling, and the various apartments above Bobby’s, was the night sky; the stars drowned out by the city lights but still there, hidden away, Polaris the brightest of them all. Polaris stood strong in the night sky, still thousands of years from being usurped; the brightest, and most reliable of all the stars.
“Even today, star navigation is still learnt by sailors, as an emergency option, in case GPS fails. They fall back on Polaris to set them straight when they lose their way,” Buck mused as he stared at the ceiling. He sat himself up a little straighter, turning to face Bobby. “You set me straight many a times when I lost my way in the past. And I… I still do, lose my way… sometimes. I- I still need that.”
“Buck, whatever happens, whether I return as Captain or someone else takes up the post permanently, you’ve made it pretty clear today that you know where to find me,” Bobby pointed out. “My door’s always open.”
“Right,” Buck nodded, managing a small smile. “Thanks.”
2022
“I’m dead,” Buck slurred.
He stumbled into his apartment, his whole body lurching forward as his foot caught on his other foot, and Hen threw herself in front of him to prevent him from crashing into his kitchen counter.
“Woah! Steady!” Hen urged.
She helped him regain his balance and he stood, glancing around his apartment, eyes squinted, Hen refusing to relinquish her grip from his arm in fear of him falling again.
“Is she here?” Buck questioned, his head lulling forward as he peered inquisitively into his living area.
“Who? Taylor?” Hen questioned in returned.
Buck’s head tilted as he turned to Hen and whispered conspiratorially, “The scorpion.”
“There’s a scorpion?” Hen looked around in search of a cage. “Since when did you get a pet?”
“No, no, no, no, no. No.” Buck spoke adamantly, pointing a shaking but accusatory finger in her general direction. His finger waved all over the place as he kept talking, “No friendly scorpion. Deadly scorpion. It- it kissed, no, no, stung me. Now I’m dead.”
“Right. So Lucy’s the scorpion, got it,” Hen put the muddled pieces together. “You’re not dead, Buck. Merely drunk, struggling to form sentences, and in dire need of water. Let’s get you to the couch.”
The journey to the couch felt much, much longer than normal and seemed to have more brick-wall like obstacles than he could ever recall it having but eventually Hen’s death grip on his arm relinquished and he crashed face first onto the soft couch.
“I’m Orion,” Buck groaned, mumbling against the couch.
“You’re an onion?” Hen repeated in amusement.
Buck lifted his head ever so slightly, a wave of nausea overcoming him as he did, to eye Hen standing over him, holding out a glass of water.
“Orion,” Buck repeated, ignoring the water. “I’m Orion. I’m dead. Taylor’s… Artemis. She’s left alone while I’m high… in the sky.”
“You know what? We’ll have this conversation tomorrow, when you’re making more sense,” Hen suggested. “For now, take the water and sleep.”
“’M making perfecto sense,” Buck grumbled.
“Sure, you are,” Hen went along with him. “Water.”
Buck clumsily pushed himself into a semi-sitting position, taking the glass from Hen and managing to tip half of its contents down him in the process. He didn’t even blink as the cool water soaked through his shirt.
“Maddie Castor. Bobby Polaris. I need Perseus,” Buck stated in simple terms, so Hen could understand. He hesitated, frowning as he considered his words, and wagged his finger as he backtracked, “No, no, I am Perseus.”
“I thought you were Orion,” Hen replied.
Buck stared at her incredulously; where had she gotten that idea from?
“No, no, I’m Perseus,” he insisted, jabbing his finger repeatedly into his chest. “And I need my Andromeda.”
“That’s it, I’m calling it, you’ve lost me,” Hen declared, giving up entirely.
“Aha!” Buck beamed at her. “You need Bobby! Bobby is the guiding star.”
“Right. And you need sleep,” Hen reiterated. “Night, night, Buck.”
2024
Ping!
Buck glanced up from his notepad to catch Chimney retrieving the bag of popcorn from the microwave. He swiftly manoeuvred around Buck’s kitchen, nothing having changed since he and Eddie had lived with him during the pandemic months, and settled himself (and his big bag of popcorn) down across the table from Buck.
“Come on then,” Chimney urged, making beckoning motions with his hands. “Hit me with it.”
“Okay,” Buck nodded enthusiastically, glancing down at his list whilst Chimney started with his popcorn. “I’ve been playing around with it a little bit, tweaking here and there, but I’ve whittled it down and you can tell me where to go from here.”
“It shouldn’t really require much input from me,” Chimney stated.
“Hey,” Buck pointed his pen at Chimney, “It’s your day. It needs to be perfect for you. So, I’ve got paintballing, rafting, go-karting, karaoke, casino, axe throwing, bungee jumping, skydiving-”
Buck was barely even a dent into his list when the notepad was snatched out of his hand by Chimney. His eyes scanned over the page before he held it up to Buck.
“What is this?” he demanded.
Buck indicated towards it with his hand, “It’s your bachelor party ideas list. I thought we could mix and match a few things – a few activities during the day and then the real party starts when the sun goes down.”
The notepad landed on the table with a thud.
“How many times do I need to say it? I don’t want a bachelor party!” Chimney insisted.
“You say that now, but just you wait; I’m going to make it so good, all the alcohol in the world won’t keep you from remembering it,” Buck maintained then questioned, “Hold on, if you’re still insisting that you don’t want this party, what were you expecting me to ‘hit you with’?”
“The speech you said you had started writing, for the actual big day,” Chimney prompted. “Have you actually done that or have you been too busy compiling this list which reads like the most frequent places Maddie receives emergency calls from?”
“No, no, I’ve got you, Chim, relax,” Buck urged, reaching for his notepad and flicking back a bunch of pages. He flicked his eyes over the top of his pad, glancing at Chimney, “You sure you’re ready for this?”
“Hit me with it,” Chimney reiterated, diving back into his popcorn.
“Right, well, bear in mind, this is a work in progress and just what I have written down so far. I may even go off book on the day. It’s a wedding, after all, nothing ever goes entirely to plan, no matter how meticulously organised,” Buck stated then cleared his throat, “When I first realised that Chim and my sister were together, I was surprised. Looking back now, it seems the most obvious thing in the world.
"In space, there are things called binary star systems; two stars locked in orbit around each other, bound to one another in a gravitational two-step, so close to one another that from Earth, the two stars appear as one but, when studied closer through a telescope, are revealed to be a pair. Maddie and Chimney are a binary system, locked in orbit around each other, bound to one another, a pair, a couple, before they even realised it themselves.
“In my experience of others’ long-withstanding relationships-”
“Because your own are a train wreck,” Chimney contributed with a mouthful of popcorn.
Buck shot him a mock smile before continuing, “In my experience of others’ long-withstanding relationships, the best relationships are built on strong foundations of friendship, trust, and honesty. It’s being there for each other, in the bad times as much as the good. It’s the perseverance and willingness to adapt together to make it through those challenges and hardships that strengthen a relationship. Maddie and Chimney have tackled more than their fair share of these, but nothing can keep them down. They always find their way back to each other. In a way, they are each other’s North Star, guiding the other home, and providing the brightest of lights, even in the darkest and most hopeless of times.
“And that is where the writer’s block hit me like a brick wall, so that’s all you’ve got.”
“Wow,” Chimney responded absent-mindedly, his popcorn barely touched.
Buck dropped the notepad onto the table, “Wow decent, or wow you proper butchered that?”
“No, no, it’s good, it’s just… you really do learn something new everyday,” Chimney mused. “Binary star systems, huh?”
“Cool, huh?” Buck beamed at him, dropping his pen onto the abandoned notepad. “It turns out that between five and ten percent of visible stars are actually binaries. Uh, The Big Dipper? It’s handle? Yeah, that’s not one star, it’s a binary star system made up of two stars; Mizar and Alcor.”
“Did you swallow an astronomy book?” Chimney jested.
Buck shrugged, “Something like that.”
Chimney suddenly seemed to remember his popcorn, grabbing a huge handful before leaning forward on the table, moving in closer, and when he spoke, it was almost conspiratorial, “So, how about you?”
Buck narrowed his eyes, “How about me, what?”
“Have you got your own binary system?”
“Floating around somewhere out there in the vastness of space?” Buck proposed, glancing out his window at the world beyond, and sighed, “One can but hope.”
“Hey, who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you think,” Chimney spoke optimistically and, on Buck’s dubious glance, expanded, “‘Locked in orbit around each other’, isn’t that what you said?”
2025
“Honestly, Eddie? Now that Christopher has come home, I thought we were going out somewhere to celebrate, not… a clifftop?” Buck mused, a frown on his brow as he peered over the edge, studying the steep rock formation with the light from his hand-held flashlight. “Hey, isn’t this that same spot we found that skeleton from the ghost call Maddie received?”
“Around Halloween, a good few years back? Yep,” Eddie confirmed, calling over from a less treacherous position away from the cliff edge, his own flashlight shining a spotlight on Buck. “Now, how about you move back from the edge?”
“Why?” Buck glanced at him over his shoulder and, with a teasing smile, shot, “Am I making you nervous?”
“Yes, you are,” Eddie spoke straight to the point, his tone more serious and, when he spoke again, there was a hint of exasperation. “Don’t you think you’ve spent enough time confined to a hospital bed?”
Buck silently conceded, turning away from the cliff edge and taking purposeful steps back towards Eddie.
He turned his torch on his fellow firefighter, “You going to tell me what we’re doing all the way out here?”
“High up, away from the heavy light source of the city, it matches the criteria for a good spot to look to the stars,” Eddie shrugged, sticking his hands in his pocket as he tilted his head up to the night sky.
Buck followed his gaze. The conditions were perfect. The new moon kept the sky dark, the absence of clouds making it a clear night. The stars looked the brightest he had seen them in a long time.
He tore his gaze from them with ease, turning back to Eddie, surprised, “You… you stargaze?”
“Me? No,” Eddie answered with a shake of his head. “You do though, so come on.”
Eddie sat down in the grass, leaning back against a rock, shifting a little until he found a comfortable spot, and patted the space beside him invitingly.
Buck stared down at him, because he did, from time to time, but he didn’t realise Eddie knew that, and so he spoke hesitantly, “I… I do?”
“Come on, Buck, every draft of the speech you ran by me for Chim and Maddie’s wedding contained star metaphors; the very first line you wrote down for it was about binary star systems,” Eddie pointed out. “There was that time you helped Chris with his solar system model for a science project and you spent a good part of an hour telling him all about the sun, including that it’s the only star in our solar system. I once even had Hen call me asking me to translate drunk Buck talk-”
“Drunk Buck talk?” Buck cut him off questioningly.
“It’s a language of its own. Very few are fluent in it,” Eddie returned with mock sincerity. “And in that instance, it turned out to be drunk astronomy talk. So sit, the stars look especially lovely tonight.”
Eddie patted the space beside him once more, urging Buck to sit down and Buck finally did, settling himself down on the grass beside Eddie, darkness enclosing them both and yet they found the light in the stars above.
“Tell me about the stars, Buck,” Eddie prompted, sounding genuinely interested.
Buck found himself staring at the other man, again. People didn’t ask him to talk about the stars; he just did, and half the time they didn’t listen, or didn’t follow, or tried to change the topic, or just hummed along, disinterested, or just turned to their phone, busying themselves with messages or calls as he rambled on.
Eddie just sat there, staring up at the night sky, waiting.
Buck pointed out the constellation of Cassiopeia, using it as a reference point from which to map the Perseus constellation, delving into the mythology of Medusa and Princess Andromeda, Eddie nodding along and chiming in with short statements, demonstrating that he really was taking in everything he was being told.
“So Perseus, despite having only just killed Medusa, made it two-for-the-price-of-one in destroying the sea-monster and saving the Princess Andromeda,” Buck concluded the tale. “And from there, the pair went on to get married.”
“Hope it worked out better than all your forays with people you saved,” Eddie remarked, “I would have called that tale romantic were it not for the disasters of your dating life.”
“Yeah, thanks for that harrowing reminder, Eddie. They were, actually, much more fortunate than you and I in that department,” Buck throw in his own shot in return, “and lived happily together for the rest of their lives. The legend actually goes that once Andromeda died, the goddess Athena put her in the sky so that she and Perseus could be together forever.”
“Now, that is romantic,” Eddie stated as he stared up at the two constellations, a small smile on his face.
“Right, in their case,” Buck agreed. “If it were me and some of my exes, that would just be hell.”
“And that is why they’re exes,” Eddie pointed out. “You need to find your own Andromeda or Perseus. Someone you can look at and the thought of being with them forever doesn’t sound like your own personal hell or send you into instantaneous panic mode. Have you ever considered-”
Eddie abruptly fell silent and Buck glanced over at him, expecting him to continue. Eddie’s lips were firmly pressed to, his eyes glued to the stars above with a hard stare.
“Ever considered what?” Buck pried curiously.
“Just… just that Perseus and Andromeda up there in the sky forever, it’s not too different from your metaphor of binary star systems. Locked to each other, bound to each other. Maybe even they didn’t realise it at first, Perseus and Andromeda, when he first rescued her from the sea-monster, maybe… maybe they had challenges and obstacles to overcome on their journey to the stars and forever,” Eddie mused as Buck watched him, Eddie's hard stare softening, becoming gentler, even as it refused to relinquish its view of the stars.
“Probably,” Buck agreed. “Life isn’t as simple as the legends like to romanticize.”
“True. And yet up here, away from the noise and the buzz of the city, looking up at the night sky, at the stars, it all seems so… clear,” Eddie contemplated.
“Well, yeah, it’s like we were saying – optimal weather conditions for stargazing tonight. Not a cloud in sight,” Buck pointed out.
Eddie took in a breath, a deep, deep breath, before continuing, “You think of the stars, and you think they’re so far away, you don’t even consider it may be possible to reach them. But sometimes… they seem so close… as if you could just… reach out… and touch them.”
Buck’s head tilted and his face contorted as he considered Eddie’s words, glancing up at the stars above their heads; far, far above their heads. Had Eddie truly been listening to a word he had said to Chris throughout that science project?
“You do realise the closest star to the Earth is the sun, right? And that the sun is over ninety million miles away from the Earth?” Buck spoke factually. “And I really would not recommend reaching out and touching the sun anyway; the temperature at the surface of the sun is about ten-thousand Fahrenheit, talk about burn-”
Eddie’s lips crashed against his own, taking his breath away as he did his words. He felt Eddie’s hand brush against his cheek, reaching out to him, touching him, and by the time his thoughts had caught up, it was over. Eddie had retreated and it was Buck’s turn to stare, dumbfounded.
“Why… why’d you do that?”
“Because you wouldn’t shut up, or listen, and I couldn’t find the right way to say-”
“No more talking.”
Buck grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer, before diving into a kiss he was ready for. Their lips locked once more - a pair, bound to one another - Eddie’s breath warm, melting the cold of the night around them. Eddie leaned in - so close to one another - their bodies pressing tightly together - they appear as one - and Eddie's hand snaked around Buck’s waist, currents shooting through Buck’s entire body, like being struck by lightning all over again. His heart soared into the night sky, shining ferociously. He didn’t want it to stop, but even stars burned out.
They broke apart, coming up for air they had used all too quickly in their desperate intensity. Eddie let out a chuckle as he leaned back against the rock. Buck settled in right next to him, body pressed snuggly against Eddie’s, searching for that familiar warmth. Their hands locked, fingers intertwining with one another.
A stream of light shot across the dark sky.
“Look, a shooting star,” Eddie pointed at it with his free hand. “Make a wish.”
“Shooting stars aren’t actually stars. It's really just a meteor.”
“Okay, shooting meteor,” Eddie accepted. “Just make a wish, Buck.”
“Nah,” Buck declined, his head falling to rest on Eddie’s shoulder as his eyes tracked the meteor across the sky. “I don’t need to. Not anymore.”
A sky full of stars. Shining brightly, together. Buck and Eddie watched, together.