Archive of Our Own ^beta

Today was the day Buck and Eddie planned to tell the 118 that they’d been secretly dating for the last three months. 

It had been hell to keep it a secret for so long, if they were being honest. Bobby had known from the start, of course, and he’d promised to keep their secret until they were ready. 

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to tell the others, it was that they were scared they weren’t going to last, and they knew that if they didn’t, their team would make things awkward even if they wouldn’t. 

But who were they kidding? 

Eddie had sat Buck down the night before. They had shared beers on their couch after Chris went to bed, and Eddie, with those big, brown eyes that Buck always pretended didn’t knock the breath out of him, had said they were going to last. He hadn’t said it in a casual, offhand way either. He’d looked Buck right in the eye, and said it. Full name and all.

A very, very long time.

Buck hadn’t needed more convincing after that. He’d gone to bed that night with Eddie’s words bouncing around in his head, and now here he was, already making moves to tell the people who mattered most.

So, he had two stops before work today. 

First being Athena before she goes out on patrol for the day, and then Maddie, who he’d pay a quick visit to at the dispatch center. She’d been working for the last few hours and if he goes before his shift, he can drop off a smoothie for her. 

He wanted to tell the people outside the 118 first—the ones who weren’t there every day but who still felt like home. He’d already called Karen while driving to Athena’s. 

Karen had been dropping Mara and Denny off at school and had picked up on the first ring. Buck didn’t want to disturb her once she got to work, even if the idea of hanging out with a rocket scientist all day sounded ridiculously cool.

Karen had laughed when he told her. She hadn’t been surprised. She’d even said, “I figured you two had been together for the last five years, at least.” Buck hadn’t known what to say to that. 

Five years? Were they really that oblivious?

At a red light, Buck glanced at his phone. The screen lit up with Eddie’s name, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He hit the answer button, the sound of Eddie’s voice filling the car through the speakers.

“What did Karen say?” Eddie asked. Buck could hear the noise of a school in the background and guessed Eddie had just dropped Chris off.

“That she thought we’d been together for five years already,” Buck replied with a huff. “Why do I get the feeling everyone’s going to say the same thing?”

“Uh, probably because we were blind,” Eddie said matter-of-factly. Buck heard the sound of a car door shutting, followed by the sudden quiet of Eddie’s car. “You sure you want to talk to Athena and Maddie alone? I can meet you at the station now.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” Buck said as he started driving again when the light turned green. The traffic was heavier than usual, and it made him a little anxious. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at the clock. He just hoped he’d make it on time. “Besides, I’m sure Maddie’s going to want to talk to you alone at some point. You know, give you the classic ‘you hurt him, you die’ speech.”

Eddie snorted. “Hah, just wait until I tell Sophia and Alexandra,” he said in amusement as Buck heard his car engine starting up again. “I’ll meet you at the firehouse. Drive safe, okay?” 

“Yeah, you too, Eds,” Buck replied, his face flushing slightly. “I’ll bring you a coffee.”

“My hero,” Eddie murmured fondly. Buck could practically hear him smile. There was a slight pause before the line disconnected, just a beat longer than normal. Buck knew why.

They still hadn’t said the big three words.

Buck had wanted to for a while now, but he knew how fast he could move, and he knew how fast Eddie could move. So he was a hundred and twenty nine percent sure they were both teetering on the edge of saying it for as long as possible so they don’t fuck this up like their past relationships. 

Everything had to be perfect. 

Buck pulled into the precinct parking lot and managed to find a spot right out front. He grabbed his firefighter badge from the passenger seat, turning it over in his hand as he stepped out of the truck. 

The badge usually helped when he needed to get past reception—especially when he wasn’t direct family to the officer he was visiting. It saved him the hassle of filling out unnecessary statement forms.

He’d never used the badge for anything else, but he had to admit, there was something undeniably cool about holding it up and flashing it like he was in some action movie.

It was ridiculous, but still. Cool.

Buck 1.0 would’ve flaunted it everywhere, probably even at a grocery store checkout if Bobby hadn’t reigned him in.

The line at reception wasn’t too long—just three people ahead of him. As he waited, his attention was drawn to a commotion nearby. A golden retriever, tail wagging furiously, jumped up on a woman who clearly wasn’t its owner.

“I’m so sorry!” the dog’s owner exclaimed, hurriedly tugging at the leash. “He loves people.”

“It’s okay,” the other woman reassured her, bending down to pat the dog, who looked like it was in absolute heaven.

The scene made Buck smile. He’d always loved dogs. 

Maybe he could convince Eddie to get one for them and Chris. Like a service dog. A really cute one. 

The officer behind the desk sat upright, abandoning his coffee and taking the clipboard from the next person. Eventually, it was Buck’s turn. “Morning, what can I do for you?” 

“Going up to speak to Sergeant Grant,” Buck smiled, placing his badge on the counter. “Firefighter Evan Buckley. Need me to sign in?” 

“Yes please,” the officer handed a clipboard and a pen over. “I just need to run through your house number too. Can you repeat it to me?” 

“Yeah, it’s firehouse one-one-eight,” Buck answered, slipping his badge back into his pocket. After a second of typing, and Buck filling out his name and time, the officer looked up with a smile.

“You’re good to go up, thanks, Evan.” 

Buck smiled back. “Thanks.” 

Buck stepped into the elevator, giving a polite nod to the woman who entered alongside him. She offered a small smile in return, but her red-rimmed eyes betrayed that she had been crying recently. 

Buck felt a pang of sympathy. People who weren’t police officers didn’t usually come to precincts for good reasons. 

When the elevator doors opened on Athena’s floor, Buck stepped out into the controlled chaos of the station. The bullpen was buzzing with activity, and the energy felt slightly frayed, as it often did during busy mornings. 

Officers moved in and out of rooms, ushering individuals to quieter spaces for questioning or more paperwork. Others sat at desks, taking statements or typing up reports.

Buck didn’t know how officers could do this behind a desk every day. 

One man nearby caught Buck’s attention—a disheveled guy with a nasty cut on his forehead pressing an ice pack to it. He was speaking to an officer, explaining how he’d been attacked outside his home while heading to work. Someone had stolen his wallet. 

Buck would hate to be that guy. 

“Buck?” The familiar voice made him turn. Detective Rick Romero stood a few feet away, a curious expression on his face. “What brings you here so early? Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah, no, everything’s good,” Buck said quickly, stepping forward to shake Rick’s hand. “Hey, Rick. Is Athena around? I need to talk to her.”

Rick gave him an apologetic smile. “You just missed her. She headed out on patrol ten minutes ago.” 

“Damn,” Buck muttered, tapping his fingers against his pants. 

“Anything I can help with?” Rick asked.

“Uh, no, no I was just…” Buck found himself smiling a little more. “I was just coming to tell her about my… relationship with another firefighter. Eddie.”

“Eddie Diaz?” Rick asked, brow raised. 

“Yeah, that-that Eddie.” Buck answered with a nervous chuckle. “It’s silly, but I wanted to tell her in person.”

Rick scrunched his nose. “I thought you two had been together for a while now?” 

Buck blinked. “W-What makes you think that?”

“I’m a detective, Buck,” Rick snorted. “I see things most people don’t. But, hey, congratulations!” 

He patted Buck’s upper arm and buck let out a huff. Rick was a stranger practically, and even he had seen more than Buck and Eddie. It made Buck’s head spin. 

“Thanks, Rick. I appreciate it. Well, I should—” 

“Everybody stay put!” A woman’s voice broke through the chatter amongst the bullpen, and Buck's head swiveled around, coming face to face with Detective Ransone, with his hands up.

And a gun pointed at his back. 

A white hot panic rolled through Buck’s body before he could even fully register the situation. Rick stepped out in front of him, reaching for his gun, but the woman held up something else in her free hand. 

It had a big red button on the top. 

“Don’t do that!” The woman snapped at Rick, who’s hand stopped and he held it up slowly. “Don’t. Do. That!” She repeated, when two more officers reached for their guns as well. 

Today just got severely complicated. 

“Forget everything you've been trained to do,” the woman ordered, and Buck found himself taking a step backward, his mind reeling with a bare semblance of a plan, taking advantage of the officers standing in front of him for a moment. “Otherwise that box right over there… goes boom.” 

The room had fallen into deafening silence, as if everyone had sucked in a collective breath and were too frightened to so much as twitch. There was a bomb in the Los Angeles Police Department. 

And Buck… Buck never got to say those three words. 

“And that's just the one you can see,” the woman continued. The man with the ice pack over his head had his hands up now, looking at the officer next to him with wide eyes. “There are others

in this building that are there to keep your brothers and sisters in blue at bay. Understood?” 

Buck’s gaze locked on the box, his heart pounding so hard it drowned out much of the noise around him. Was this actually happening? 

His hands hovered halfway in the air, his phone gripped tightly in his right hand. This couldn’t be happening. His mind screamed for action, but he needed an opportunity—just one.

“Get over there with the rest of them,” the woman barked, shoving Ransone forward with the barrel of the gun. He complied, moving stiffly to join Rick. 

“You too. Get up!” she ordered, her focus shifting to the man with the ice pack. The man scrambled awkwardly to his feet, shuffling toward the officers gathered in a cluster.

While her attention shifted, Buck saw his moment. Slowly, and as inconspicuously as possible, he slid his phone onto a nearby desk. His fingers moved shakily, opening Eddie’s chat behind the safety of a stack of files. The screen showed Eddie already typing. 

You almost here, amor? Cap’s looking for you.

Buck’s chest tightened. If he told Eddie what was happening, could he risk these people seeing Eddie’s response? No. No, he needed to think of something subtle. Something that will send alarm bells ringing in Eddie’s head. A desperate but subtle cry for help. 

The woman’s voice cut through Buck’s spiral. “Not you. Sit down.”

She pointed at Rick, who paused mid-step and then sank into the chair she indicated. “Stay there. I’ve got a job for you.”

Buck’s hands shook even more as he typed one-handed, his heart hammering louder with every keystroke. He could feel sweat prickling along his spine.

Across the room, one of the officers—Vargas—made a move, reaching for his gun.

“No!”

Buck whipped his head up. The shout came from the man with the ice pack, who lunged forward, tackling Vargas to the ground. The two of them hit the floor hard, a sharp thud echoing through the tense room. The man wrenched the weapon out of Vargas’s grasp and stood, the gun trembling in his unsteady hands.

He pushed himself up and let out a huff of relief. 

Buck tried to type faster.

“No more of that from anybody. Got it?” The man looked up, breathless and wide-eyed, and oh, Buck knew they were all royally fucked. 

“Weapons, phones, now.” The woman ordered to the group. “Now! Pull your weapons,” she urged, waving the gun around and the remaining officers handed their guns over. “Hurry up!”

Buck pressed send. 

“Hey, phone!” The man snapped at Buck, who jolted when the gun was pointed right at him, and dropped his phone into the bin he was holding out. God, he hoped Eddie would understand. 

“The people in this room stay,” the woman looked around before focusing on Rick. “Everyone else in the building has two minutes to leave. Make the call.”

Rick sighed and reached for the landline. “This is Detective Rick Romero. We have a report of bombs in the building… Requesting immediate evacuation. 11-99.” 

Buck had heard that code before. A long time ago when Athena was being attacked. 

Code 11-99. Officer needs assistance. 

“What the hell was that?” The guy asked, looking beyond pissed off. “11-99?” 

“It’s an evacuation code,” Ransone answered evenly, like he’d done this a hundred times before. “More specifically, an evacuation code regarding police officers. They tend to evacuate quicker that way.” 

The man stared Ransone down for a moment, almost as if he didn’t quite believe him, but then he blinked and looked away. 

Rick took the opportunity to stand up again, and Buck swiftly moved closer to him and Ransone, all with the man’s gun pointed right at Buck’s chest. This is it. They could all die in here. 

Buck could die and everything would’ve been for nothing. 

He never got to say goodbye to Chris. 

Then, there was the first gunshot. 

Buck instinctively covered his head and the entire room all gasped, shielding away, but when the second shot hit, they realized the guns weren’t pointed at them.

Buck looked up slowly and saw the woman shoot out the security cameras. Smart, he thought dismally. 

“Look,” she sighed, lowering her gun, her thumb on her opposite hand still resting on the red button. “I know you're all scared and wondering why we're here, so I'll tell you. An innocent man is about to spend his life in prison for a murder he did not commit.” 

“We're here to do for him what we know he would do for us. Which gives you a second chance

to find the real killer. Nobody walks out of here alive unless you find out. So, who's your best detective?” The man asked, looking around at the group and all eyes flitted to Ransone, who sucked in a breath, half holding his hand up. 

“I am.” 

***

Outside, SWAT officers moved with urgency, their voices blending into the mess as orders were issued by their Captain. Squad cars screeched into place, personal vehicles—belonging to off-duty officers—pulled up one by one, joining the growing crowd of responders. 

Engine 132, accompanied by its EMS rig, announced their arrival, the firefighters and medics already stepping out, prepared for anything.

Inside a SWAT van turned into a makeshift command center, Captain Elaine Wright dropped the precinct’s landline onto its receiver with a frustrated sigh. “No one’s answering.”

“It’s only been 27 minutes,” replied Aldous Pate, the LAPD Deputy Chief, his arms crossed as he leaned against the side of the van. His posture betrayed tension despite his even tone. “Keep calling until we get through.”

The van’s rear door swung open abruptly. “Hey,” Athena announced herself. “What’s going on?”

Elaine answered. “Two people entered the precinct and announced they had bombs. We evacuated the building, but they have hostages.” She gestured over to the SWAT Captain next. “This is my best Field Sergeant, Athena Grant-Nash. Athena, this is SWAT Captain Clifford Dixon.”

Clifford shook Athena’s hand. “My team has already cleared the area and secured the perimeter.”

“What about the hostages?” Athena asked. 

Elaine sighed. “We think at least a dozen based on our tally of who went in but hasn't come out. A few members of the public, but mostly our own in the Major Crimes bullpen.”

Clifford jumped in again. “We have all the exits covered, and we're staging at various points of advantage.”

“Any idea who we're dealing with here?” Athena frowned, looking over at the monitor setup. 

“They signed into the building using their own names,” Elaine started, “and we got their files from Army CID. Staff Sergeant Emily Kirkman. Same for Sergeant Jeremy Davis from Colorado. Both served together in the US Army until Davis transferred last year to the National Guard.”

Athena’s heart dropped. “So they're trained.” 

It was one thing dealing with inexperienced, crazed bombers, but when they’re trained, calculated, it certainly becomes a little more complicated when implementing protocol.

“So is my team,” Clifford assured and Athena placed her hand on her hips. “We'll be prepared

to handle them if it comes to that.”

Athena gave him one long, hard look, before turning to the Deputy Chief next. “How did they get explosives past security?”

“We're still trying to figure that out,” Aldous answered, chewing on his lower lip. “We haven't been able to talk to anybody on the inside.”

“What happened to the cameras in the bullpen?” Athena asked. 

Elaine’s arms dropped to her sides. She looked beyond frustrated. “They blew them up.”

“I'll get eyes on them as soon as my guys are in position on the roof,” Clifford promised, already moving towards the exit of the swat van. 

Athena turned with him. “Good. But remember, our primary goal is the safety of those hostages.”

“Of course,” Clifford answered, and then he was gone. 

“Let's try to keep the media out of this as long as possible,” Elaine gestured over to where Taylor Kelly was already setting up shop. No surprise there.  

“I’ll tell them it’s a mandatory safety drill,” Athena nodded, climbing out of the van.

Somehow, she had a gut feeling things were only about to get a lot worse. 

***

“Hey, did you get hold of Buck?” Bobby asked when Eddie walked into his office a bit like a zombie, eyes glued to his phone. 

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbled, finally looking up. “But something isn’t right, Cap.”

Bobby sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“Does this look weird to you?” Eddie handed his phone over and Bobby placed his glasses on. 

Eddie: You almost here amor? Cap’s looking for you.

Buck: I love you, Eddie. All of you. Tell Athena. 

Bobby’s entire body tensed at the mention of Athena, reading, and then rereading. As first responders, texts like that, in that sequence, didn’t ever mean nothing. 

Look what happened to Maddie. 

That was a text of a man saying his goodbyes. 

“Where was he going?” Bobby asked, handing Eddie’s phone back, already moving to stand up.

“The precinct. He wanted to tell Athena about… us, before everyone else found out.” Eddie answered, watching Bobby reach for his phone as the pair moved out of his office. 

“Thena,” Bobby spoke about two rings in. “Is Buck with you?” Bobby stayed silent, growing paler by the second. His gaze landed on Eddie. “What do you mean there’s a hostage situation?” 

Athena was put on speaker phone now and Hen, Ravi, and Chimney’s attention all snapped to Bobby’s question, moving closer to get a better listen. 

“Apparently two military folks have at least a dozen people in the Major Crimes bullpen right now. Some civilians, most are ours,” Athena answered. “You said Buck was coming here to speak to me?”

“Yeah, he called me right before he went to you,” Eddie jumped in, his fists clenched. “And then he… never answered me aside from some… weird cryptic message. Is there a way to check if he’s in there?” 

“One second,” Athena answered. There was some rustling of papers from her end. After a moment, she spoke. “Looks like he signed in about twenty minutes ago, but never signed out. But,” she spoke quickly. “In an evacuation case, that doesn’t mean he’s still in there. No one has signed out.”

“If he wasn’t still in there, he’d be here with us,” Chimney pointed out.

“Would he?” Hen asked, her brows creasing together. “It’s Buck. If he had evacuated, he’d be planted right there helping where he could.”

“He would’ve called us too,” Ravi answered. “What firehouse is on scene?”

“The 136,” Athena answered with a dismal sigh. “So that means…”

“Buck is still in that building,” Eddie murmured, panic flowing through every fraying nerve in his body. 

Bobby’s eyes widened. “Get in the trucks.” 

***

Buck was seated on the floor in a semicircle with the rest of the hostages. 

The woman held more composure, breathing evenly, no shake of her hands. As if she’d practiced. In contrast, the man paced relentlessly, his erratic energy a little too obvious. 

Buck recognized the signs immediately. The man wasn’t just unstable—he was a powder keg. Every step, every twitch of his fingers around the gun’s trigger screamed volatility.

The irony wasn’t lost on Buck.

The landline rang abruptly, causing a few hostages to jump in shock. The woman jutted her chin toward it. “Answer,” she ordered. The man stopped pacing long enough to obey, reaching for the phone and switching it to speaker.

“This is Captain Maynard with the LAPD. Who am I speaking with?” 

"Staff Sergeant Ethan Hanson is an innocent man,” the man pointed the gun and a notepad at Ransone so he could read it out loud, his voice monotonous. “Charged with a crime he did not commit. The LAPD got it wrong. Today, they have one chance to make it right or everyone in here will die."

Without giving Elaine a chance to respond, the guy hung up and Buck stole a quick glance at Rick, who was already looking at him. 

Where was Athena when they needed her most? She would’ve had these guys in handcuffs by now if she’d been in here. 

“Go,” the woman ushered Ransone, who moved back to the desk. They’d retrieved the case box prior to the phone call, and Ransone opened the box, pulling everything out. The male pulled the clear white board closer and in the tense silence, Ransone begane to put up everything necessary, forming the general timeline along with the suspects and the victim. 

Buck had learned under five minutes ago that Detective Phelps had worked the case, and Phelps was in fact, not here today. So everyone in here had a fresh look at the crime. 

Buck’s heart was still beating loudly, pulsing in his ears, but he needed to focus. He needed to breathe. If they unraveled this case, if they pieced together the truth, everyone could go home.

Buck liked a good challenge once in a while. 

Buck studied every move Ransone made. He scanned each evidence bag, reading labels and examining their contents. His eyes lingered on the faces and names taped to the board, committing each one to memory.

The timeline began to form in his mind, details slotting into place like puzzle pieces.

Buck put together the general timeline. 

Victim: Major Glenn Harris, a retired master sergeant turned contractor, who taught leadership and combat strategies at the Joint Forces Training Base in Los Alamitos. Known as a respected figure in the military, Harris mentored countless soldiers over the years.

Location of Crime: Harris was found dead inside his RV at a park in Palos Verdes. The door had been forcibly kicked in, suggesting a confrontation.

Cause of Death: A single gunshot wound to the chest from his personal firearm.

Evidence Against Ethan Hanson:

Weapon: The murder weapon, Harris’s personal gun, was recovered from a nearby trash can. Although it had been wiped clean, partial fingerprints matched Ethan Hanson, one of Harris’s former students.

Additional: Acetone was found lingering on the fingerprints, matching Ethan’s home renovations.

Height Match: The trajectory of the bullet suggested the shooter was around six feet tall, matching Hanson’s height.

Witnesses: Harris and Hanson were seen together at a bar in Long Beach the night before the murder. Witnesses described the atmosphere between them as tense, with one bartender overhearing heated remarks.

Alibi: Hanson claimed he was at home with his girlfriend, Emily, at the time of the murder. However, her confirmation of his alibi was viewed as unreliable. Girlfriends could lie. 

Motive: Hanson had been vying for a prestigious teaching role at the base, which Harris had reportedly decided to give to another candidate. This decision could have fueled anger or jealousy, pushing Hanson to confront Harris.

Prosecution's Theory:

Ethan Hanson, feeling betrayed and angered by Harris’s decision, followed him home after their tense exchange at the bar. In a fit of rage, Hanson broke into the RV, confronted Harris, and shot him with his own weapon. 

Buck stared at the crime scene photo, and then the image of the blood splatter beside it, right before the woman leaned over Ransone’s shoulder, her finger hovering dangerously close to that red button. 

“And?” She pressed. 

Ransone flipped the page, reading for another short moment. “He waived his Miranda rights. Said he was with his girlfriend, Emily. Ethan claimed he and Glenn went to the shooting range the day before. And claimed Glenn let him use his gun to explain away the prints.” 

There was a pause. 

“Look…” Ransone looked over his shoulder. “I wish I could say there was something they missed—”

“Better do more than wish,” the guy snapped. He raised his gun right at Ransone’s forehead. A direct shot between his eyes, and Buck leaned forward. 

“It's all here,” Ransone insisted, gesturing out to the box, the white board, and the papers in his hands. “I don't see… Phelps and his team did a very thorough job.” 

Buck squinted at the board, reading out key statements of Ethan’s that Ransone had written out in red ink. 

‘I've given my life to the service.’

“All the evidence still points to Ethan,” Ransone insisted. 

“Wrong answer,” the guy pressed the barrel of the gun against Ransone’s head, earning gasps from the entire group, but Buck wasn’t focusing on them anymore. 

‘I wanted a life of my own. A life with Emily.’

He looked at the crime scene photos again and it all clicked. 

“Uh, hey,” Buck blurted out, jumping up from his sitting position, and both guns whipped in his direction. He tried not to let them see his heart nearly give out. 

“Who the hell are you?” The woman questioned, her thumb brushing against the red button. 

“Firefighter Evan Buckley,” he answered quickly, and the man scoffed.

“You firefighters… Always thinking you can play hero.” 

“Detective Ransone’s right,” Buck ignored the guy’s dig. His mind was moving ahead of the rest of his body, ahead of his nerves, so he might as well use that to an advantage for the first time ever. “A-All of this evidence points right to your friend Ethan. There’s no doubt about that, but that doesn’t mean that’s the only evidence there is, right?” 

The pair gave each other a quick look, as if communicating silently. The woman turned back first. “Keep talking.” 

“Look at the crime scene photos,” Buck pointed out, walking towards the board, hand outstretched, fingers shaking slightly. If they shot him now, then so be it. He wasn't letting anyone else die here today. 

That guy was wrong about one thing. He was no hero, never planned to be. 

Nothing was ever said about martyrs. 

“Look at the blood splatters,” he tapped the photo, glancing over at the woman. She seemed easier to reason with. She was also the one with all the real power anyway. “What do you see?” 

“Stop wasting our fucking time—” The guy snapped, but the woman held up her and and leaned in closer. 

“I see… a corner,” she murmured, glancing up at Buck. “Like something was stopping the blood droplet from forming a circle.”

“Exactly,” Buck agreed. “A piece of paper or-or something. Whatever it was, the killer wanted to take it with them, and we gotta figure out why. Whoever has that paper, is the killer and if Ethan is detained, that means his place has been raided, right? Where’s the paper with blood on the corner then? Because it’s not in the evidence box.” 

“Huh,” the woman breathed out, looking at the photo again, but Buck wasn’t done. 

“You need to let me make a phone call.” 

***

“Athena!” Bobby called out the second the 118 rolled up to the scene, the entire crew barreling out of their vehicles towards the Sergeant. “Any news?”

“Nothing,” Athena sighed, her hand resting on her holster. “We’re waiting for SWAT to get into position to lower some cameras down to the window, see what kind of visuals we can get. So far, no shots have been fired. Everything’s quiet right now.”

“What do these guys want?” Hen asked, looking up at the building. 

“Apparently, these two think their friend was wrongfully convicted of first degree murder. They’re in there with Ransone, Romero, and a few other officers working to find the real killer.” Athena scoffed, shaking her head. “The kicker is, all evidence points to their friend.”

“So what I’m hearing is everyone in there is at an even higher risk,” Chimney sounded beyond defeated, his hands on his hips. “What do we do?” 

“Athena!” Elaine called out from the van. “We got Firefighter Buckley on the line wanting to speak to you.” 

Eddie’s head snapped toward the van at the sound of Buck’s name. The words hit him like a jolt of electricity, like lightning. 

Buck was alive. He was okay. 

That relief that flowed through Eddie’s body quickly turned sour. 

He was okay for now.  

Athena broke into a run. 

Eddie, Bobby, Hen, Ravi—all of them followed, crowding into the cramped van. Shoulders pressed together, breaths overlapping in the confined space, every one of them braced for what they were about to hear.

“Firefighter Buckley? I’m here. Talk to me,” Athena said, her voice steady. “What’s going on in there?”

“Just helping out with a case,” Buck replied, his tone unnervingly calm.

Eddie froze. His breath caught in his chest as the words echoed in his ears. He recognized that tone immediately. 

It wasn’t casual—it wasn’t calm. It was the voice Buck used when everything was falling apart, when he was barely holding it together for everyone else’s sake.

Buck was terrified. Eddie could hear it clear as day, even if no one else could.

A hot surge of helplessness burned through him. Every fiber of his being screamed to act. He wanted to storm in, to tear through the barricades and pull Buck out of there with his own hands. 

He didn’t care about the risks. He’d take two lives—hell, he’d take a hundred—if it meant saving the one that mattered most to him. 

“Listen, Sergeant, I need an assist.”

“Whatever you need, firefighter.” Athena replied without hesitation, though her eyes flicked toward Bobby. Her worry was etched into every line of her face. Bobby, on the other hand, wore a different expression entirely. His features sagged. 

Like a father already bracing himself for the loss of a child. 

Two parents, already mourning their son. Preparing for the worst. 

“Uh, is Glenn’s RV still in impound?” Buck asked. 

“Sure is,” Athena answered. “I’ll call you back on my cell when I get there. It’s—”

“I know,” Buck interrupted softly. His voice turned gentler, more familiar, as though speaking to someone he trusted with his life. Because that was exactly what he was doing. “I have it memorized.”

Eddie let out a strangled sound, raw and involuntary. They tore something loose, and before he could stop himself, the noise escaped. Hen reacted instantly, her hand shooting up to cover his mouth. 

When the line went dead, Athena looked to Bobby again. “You’re coming with me. Let’s go.”

The pair were out of the van in seconds and Eddie yanked Hen’s hand away. “What was that for?” 

Hen’s expression hardened, but there was a hint of sympathy. “If Buck knows we’re here too, he’ll panic, okay? It’s better if he thinks we don’t know anything—not yet.”

Eddie shook his head, his jaw tight, frustration radiating from every inch of him. “He already knows we’re here.”

Ravi frowned. “How do you know that?”

Eddie sucked in a breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Because he told me first.” 

***

Athena called back in under ten minutes. 

“I’m here,” she spoke, climbing into the RV with Bobby close behind her. “What am I looking for, Buckley?” 

Buck was standing by the phone now, hands pressed flat on the desk. That was the rule from the guy with the gun. He wanted to see Buck’s hands at all times. 

“A piece of paper,” Buck answered. “Problem is, the paper was taken from the crime scene. I think it had something to do with the motive. Does Glenn have a printer?” 

Bobby pointed to the printer and computer screen. “As a matter of fact, he does,” Athena answered. “One second.”

She passed the phone over to Bobby, and slid into the booth, using the keyboard. All the tech had lost their passwords and firearms after the LAPD had cracked into it for any evidence. She couldn’t understand what was missing. 

Regardless, she wasn’t about to second guess Buck, so she pulled up the printer’s history. 

“Looks like the last thing Glenn opened on his computer was a form,” Athena scrolled through quickly. “DD Form 458.”

“It's a charge form,” the woman answered, hovering closer until the gun pressed into Buck’s back. He tensed under the feeling. “Brings a soldier in front of a military tribunal.”

“Glenn was gonna write up a soldier,” Buck frowned. If that were true, and Ethan had even more motive, and buck had just helped prove that….

“No way,” the woman disagreed. 

“Which could've resulted in Ethan’s discharge,” Athena continued on with a sigh. 

“It couldn't have been Ethan. He was a model soldier in every way,” the woman shook her head. She was loyal, to put it lightly, Buck thought. 

“Okay, so if staying in the army wasn't Ethan’s motive, then maybe it was somebody else's.” Buck offered quickly. He’d take any sort of leverage he could here. 

A loud, panicked shout broke through the air. “Who’s there?!” The man yelled. He spun around, marching toward the blinds covering Rick’s office door, yanking them back with a ferocity that made the thin fabric snap. 

Behind him, Rick visibly tensed, his eyes squeezing shut.

Buck felt his head spin. 

Rick had been hiding someone in there this whole time.

“What’s going on over there?” Athena’s voice crackled through the line, urgent.

The man’s voice rose again, a mix of fury and paranoia. He shoved the door open with a loud thud. “Who the fuck is in there?! Show me your hands now, or I start shooting!”

“What’s going on?!” Bobby’s voice boomed through the phone now. Hearing it jarred Buck back to himself for just a second.

Eddie got his message. 

Eddie knew. 

Buck’s voice stammered, every word tripping over the next. “I-I-I don’t know. S-Someone’s hiding in Romero’s o-office—”

Before he could finish, the man let out an exasperated growl, turning his attention back to the office. Buck could only see his back, but the movement was unmistakably aggressive. “Come here. Give me that!” The man snatched something out of the hidden figure’s hands and yanked them forward with a sharp tug that made Buck’s stomach drop.

It only took Buck a fraction of a second to process what was happening, but it was already too late. The situation, somehow, had gone from terrible to… world-breaking.

“Oh my God—” Buck bolted forward, crossing the space in long, desperate strides. His arms went out automatically, pulling the figure into his grasp with no hesitation. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve—” 

“Hey!” The man roared, lunging toward Buck, but before he could get any closer, Ransone and Rick were on their feet.

“Sit back down!” the man barked, his gun swinging in their direction, but Ransone didn’t back down. Instead, he raised his hands slowly, his posture deliberately non-threatening as he stepped forward.

“Seems to me you’ve got bigger worries than this,” Ransone said, his tone calm and steady. “Considering the situation we’re all in, maybe we take it easy for a second, huh?” 

Buck barely heard him. His focus remained on the person trembling in his arms, their bodyweight pressed against his chest. 

“Firefighter Buckley, talk to me. I thought we were figuring this case out—or have we forgotten about that? Got better things to do in there?” Athena asked, using her authoritative tone. She couldn’t sound too worried. 

Couldn’t sound too attached to him. 

“N-No,” Buck choked out, maneuvering the person in his arms behind his back to shield them. He had one free hand held out towards the woman in front, letting her know he wasn’t a threat. “Just… just a small mayday. It’s fine. Y-You got the paper?”

There was a pause, heavy and pointed. Then Athena’s voice came back. “I do. I’m going to get some key witnesses. Call you back.” 

“What the hell just happened?” Bobby asked the second Athena hung up. Clearly, he was missing something Buck had said. 

Athena was already out of the RV, storming towards her car.

“Athena!” Bobby rushed after her, arms out. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

Athena paused, her hand on the open door. Her jaw tightened before she finally turned to him. 

“They’ve got May in there too.” 

***

“I’m sorry,” May sobbed out quietly to Rick. They were seated on the floor in the semicircle again, and Buck had her tucked under his arm. Her entire body was shaking against him. “I-I tried to stay quiet, I tried to help—”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rick reached out to squeeze her hand. “It’s okay.”

“But—” May tried to protest, but Buck cut her off. 

“It’s okay. We’re getting out of here. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Nothing.” He smoothed out her hair, pressing his lips to the side of her head. She held back a sob and Buck held her closer. “Shh, it’s okay, May, We’ve got you.” 

The phone rang again and Buck felt another jolt run through him. He was going to be on edge for a long time after this. 

Athena definitely knew now. He wondered why May was even here in the first place. He thought she was at college. Maybe she came to surprise her mom at work… 

The woman answered the phone, putting it on speaker.

“This is Sergeant Grant,” Athena announced. Her voice sounded level, and Buck wasn’t surprised in the slightest. No one in here could know May’s relation to Athena. “Can I speak to Firefighter Buckley, please?” 

“I-I’m here Sergeant,” Buck answered, hesitantly letting go of May, who moved right into Rick’s arms the second Buck left her. He walked slowly over to the phone. 

“What have you got?” The woman cut in. 

Athena let out a huff. “Hello, Emily. Glenn missed a dinner with his daughter the Monday before he died.”

Emily tensed at the mention of her name and Buck watched her jaw work. “Do we have any idea where he went?” 

So she’s Emily. 

‘I wanted a life of my own. A life with Emily.’

“No, his car doesn't have a navigation system,” Athena continued, “but his cell phone should be

inside that evidence box.” 

“Grab it,” Emily ordered Buck, who pulled the phone out of the box, keeping it in the plastic. Last thing he needed was a lecture on tampering with evidence. Knowing his luck, he’d get one, even in this situation. 

“His password is my birthday, 9627,” another voice came from the other side of the phone and Buck assumed it was Glenn’s daughter.

“I’m in,” Buck stated. He moved right to Maps to see if he’d used it at all. “Got it. Monday evening looks like, at 6:32 p.m., he looked up an address near 4th and Spring.”

“That's Pershing Square,” Athena replied. 

“Back when I was in vice, we'd catch drugs, prostitution, there every night,” Ransone spoke a little louder from his position on the floor, a frown etching on his face. 

“My... My father would never,” the daughter disagreed on the other side of the line. “He didn't even drink.” 

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t know people who do,” Buck answered, letting the puzzle pieces fall into place. He closed his eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” the man demanded, his voice taut with suspicion.

“Shut up,” Buck snapped, opening his eyes briefly to glare at him. His patience was wearing thin, and fear had a way of sharpening his edges. “I’m doing you a fucking favor. Stop talking.”

Buck felt the familiar press of a barrel against his skin, but this time, to his neck. A chill ran down his spine. He heard May make a sound of panic from the base of her throat. “Think faster.” 

Despite the fear coursing through him, Buck allowed himself a faint smile, almost a smirk. “You shoot me, and you get no answers,” he said, his voice almost casual.  

Buck 1.0. Would’ve done numbers in this room. 

There was one possibility. Glenn had to have known someone—someone he took under his wing in the military—who had fallen into drugs. The kind of person Glenn might’ve tried to save, only to find himself out of options when the problem spiraled beyond his reach.

Hence the form he’d printed. 

Buck had once read up on this sort of thing. On statistics of veterans and the percentage that fall towards substance abuse as a coping mechanism. He’d started his research after he’d noticed Eddie’s slow descent in on himself. 

Behind his closed eyes, Buck visualized the pages he’d once poured over, the data stored away in the far corners of his mind. It wasn’t the kind of knowledge most people held onto, but Buck had a habit of retaining strange, seemingly trivial facts. 

Sometimes, they proved useful.

“22.9% of all veterans reported binge drinking in the past couple of months, with higher rates among post-9/11 veterans at 36.5%, which is the case for you and your team,” Buck started, opening his eyes again. “Past-year marijuana use was reported by 10.2% of all veterans. Opioid misuse was seen in 2.9% of all veterans.”

“Okay?” The guy frowned. “So what?”

Buck took a slow breath in. “Glenn follows someone to Pershing Square. A drug capital. He prints out this DD Form 458 which brings a soldier in front of a military tribunal. All of this is a clear sign that whoever he was writing up, was an addict. Found themselves going down the wrong path.”

“Ethan is not an addict,” Emily stated so ferociously, it only further proved to Buck that her and Ethan were in fact an item. In love. 

“Never said he was,” Buck answered evenly. “If he was, it would’ve been noted in his reports. When someone is arrested and put through the system, they get drug tested. Says here he was clean when he was processed.”

“Drugs can leave a system in an hour,” Athena pointed out on the other side of the line. “So how do we know it wasn’t one of those?” 

“Because I don’t think Glenn would’ve taken this so seriously if this was a lighter drug,” Buck answered. “He cared about these guys, which means he must’ve taken any and all other routes to help whoever this person is before finally deciding that he can’t help them anymore.”

“And someone else had to intervene,” Athena murmured, finishing Buck’s theory. “So this person just kept using? Until there was no going back?”

“Correct,” Buck hummed, looking towards May to make sure she was okay. Her eyes were wide and full of terror, but they never left his. “At least that’s the only theory I have right now. I’m going off the second address on here.”

“Go on,” Athena urged. 

“Glenn inputted a second address 40 minutes later. It's a private detox center in Boyle Heights.”

“So, Frank picked someone up downtown and got them help?” Ransone asked, slowly getting up now, his hands still up, as he moved to help Buck by looking at the phone too. 

“I told you,” the daughter spoke up again. “My father treated his team like family. He would do anything for them.” 

“So we’re gathering,” Ransone sighed, flicking over to the call log after taking the phone from Buck. “Who’s Lauren?”

“I am,” the daughter answered.

“You were his last phone call. Went to voicemail.” 

When the daughter spoke this time, it sounded like she was crying. “I turn my phone off when I

sleep. He must've tried to call me.”

“I'm gonna call the facility now, find out who Glenn dropped off,” Athena spoke up. 

“I’ll look into the personnel files of anyone Glenn was training,” Elaine added in. “See if one pings on a prior drug charge. We’ll get back to you.” 

And then the line went dead again. 

“Sit down,” the guy ordered Buck and Ransone, flicking the gun around aimlessly. 

Buck’s gaze landed on Vargas on his way back to sitting down. It looked like he needed to say something. 

When he and Ransone were on the ground again, May launched herself into Buck’s arms once more and he held her head. Her fingers latched around his shirt in a tight fist.

Emily and her accomplice had turned around to whisper amongst themselves, keeping a small angle open so they could still watch the group.

“Ow,” May winced, moving her leg away from Buck’s and she fished the item out of his pocket. His badge. For the first time ever, it was useless when people needed the help most. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, taking it from her and sliding it into his other pocket. 

“Hey,” Vargas whispered to them. “I can take him. Can one of you take her?” 

“Fast enough to stop her from triggering that bomb?” Rick scoffed quietly. “I'm fast, but not that fast.”

“All she has to do is press that button,” Ransone shook his head at the plan. 

Buck thought it over. “I don't think she will.” 

***

“They hung up,” Athena huffed. She’d tried conversing with the receptionist at Boyle Heights, but no matter what Athena had said about lives being on the line, the receptionist had refused to cough up any information.

“We’ll get a warrant,” the Deputy Chief reassured, but Athena shook her head.

“We don’t have that kind of time.” 

“I’m on the phone with the DA,” Elaine added, her hand covering the speaker for a moment. 

“Okay,” Athena sighed heavily as she climbed out of the van, heading toward the 118. They stood in a loose cluster.

“What’s this about May being in there?” Hen looked just about ready to run into that building all by herself.

“Apparently she was hiding in there somewhere. They found her in one of the offices,” Athena shook her head. “I couldn’t make it out, but I think Buck rushed to grab her first… I didn’t know she was even coming.” 

“She must’ve wanted to surprise you,” Hen offered a sympathetic look, holding Athena’s upper arm. “But she’s with Buck and that’s the safest place she can be right now.”

“Yeah, he’d never let anything happen to her,” Chimney added in for extra reassurance. 

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I know she’ll be protected,” Athena looked at Eddie, who read her mind.

“He’d just about die protecting her,” Eddie murmured, his voice catching at the edges. Athena gave him the faintest nod of agreement.

Eddie’s stomach churned, and the bitter taste of bile clawed at his throat. It wasn’t a lie. Buck would die for everyone in that building. 

Not because he wanted to be some hero. 

Not because he saw himself as some sort of martyr.

But because he was Buck. 

And that’s what Buck did. He risked everything for the people he loved.

“Wait,” Ravi said, his brow furrowing as he pieced together something from earlier. “Eddie, you said Buck told you first? How?”

“Huh?” Eddie blinked, snapping back to reality. 

“Did he have time to text you?” Hen pressed.

“He did,” Bobby jumped in for Eddie. “Eddie alerted me that something was wrong and I phoned Athena.”

“But how did you know something was off?” Ravi asked. 

“He uh,” Eddie sucked in a slow breath, looking at their friends expectantly. “He told me he loves us all.”

One by one, pained expressions formed on their faces, the realization sinking in. They understood what that kind of message meant, what it implied about Buck’s state of mind.

Eddie wanted to take it back. He wanted to unsay the words, to claw them out of the air and shove them back down his throat. Now everyone was thinking about the worst possible outcome. About how they might not see Buck again. 

And that made it real. Too real.

He couldn’t handle that reality.

He couldn’t face Christopher in that reality. Couldn’t sit his son down and tell him that Buck— his Buck —was gone. That he wasn’t coming back.

He couldn’t bury Buck next to Shannon. He wouldn’t.  

“Athena, what’s the next move?” He asked, cracking the silence, looking more determined than ever. “What’s going on with SWAT?”

“They’re getting cameras down now,” Athena answered. “We’re hoping to gain more intel that way and see where the next lead takes us in the case.” 

“Can you lie and say you’re sending someone up unarmed with evidence?” Eddie asked.

Athena raised her brow. “Why? You wanna go up there unarmed? And do what, Eddie? Not a chance.” 

“I’m ex military,” Eddie insisted, taking a step closer. He was growing impatient. “I could… I could get in their heads, reason with them. Ease the tension. It’s worth a shot.”

“No, it’s not,” Bobby answered now, siding with Athena. “It could only add fuel to the fire and then we’ll be down another person. You’re not going up there, Eddie. End of story.” 

“But he’s my—” Eddie gritted his teeth. “Cap, please…”

The 118 watched him with broken expressions, as if they were privy to the future that Eddie refused to see. Chimney stepped away from the group first. 

“I’m going to call Maddie.” 

***

Emily was still whispering to her partner when Vargas turned and locked eyes with Buck.

“I’m going,” he muttered, crouching low as he prepared to spring up.

“No!” Ransone hissed sharply, his hand darting out in an attempt to stop him. But Vargas wasn’t listening. 

Things were about to get messy and none of them had time to prepare.

The room exploded into chaos. 

Vargas lunged, his fist colliding with the man’s jaw with a heavy hit. The accomplice stumbled back, the chair behind him tipping over and clattering to the floor. But Vargas didn’t stop. He surged forward, his face full of rage, throwing another punch, this one aimed lower and harder.

“Vargas! Vargas, hey—” Buck’s voice tore through the commotion as he scrambled to his feet, moving toward the fight.

“Stand down, officer!” Rick shouted, but his order fell on deaf ears. Vargas was still in a struggling battle with the man. “Break it up! Stop!” Emily’s voice rose above the noise as she stepped back, her gun drawn and the remote held high. Her arm extended, the barrel aimed at Vargas, but there was too much movement to get a clear shot.

“Stop it, or I blow this place up!” she yelled, her thumb lowering slightly, threatening to make good on her warning.

Buck and Rick reacted in unison. Both men darted toward the scuffle, their focus split between pulling Vargas and the accomplice away from one another.

“Get off him, Vargas! Come on!” Rick barked, grabbing Vargas by the shoulders and trying to haul him back.

And then it happened.

A flash. A deafening crack.

The accomplice’s hand jerked, and something clicked. The scuffle had triggered the gun.

Buck froze, the room seeming to tilt and sway as the sound echoed in his ears.

“BUCK!” May screamed, her voice high and filled with panic. She tried to run to him, but Ransone caught her around the waist, holding her back. 

Rick staggered. His face contorted in pain as he dropped to the floor, clutching his leg. Buck barely had time to process it before Rick crumpled at his feet, blood already soaking through his pants and spreading fast.

“Everybody sit the fuck down!” Emily screamed, her voice breaking as she pointed her gun at the group. She looked far more frightened than she should, and her accomplice was slowly trying to push himself up. Somewhere along the way, Vargas had hit the guy’s head pretty hard. 

Buck dropped to his knees beside Rick without hesitation. “Jesus, Rick,” he cussed, his hands already reaching for the injured leg.

“I’m fine,” Rick growled through clenched teeth, trying to push himself up.

“You’re not fine. Stay down!” Buck snapped, his fingers working quickly to yank his belt free. His hands trembled as he looped it around Rick’s thigh, just above the wound. “This is going to hurt,” he warned, yanking the belt tight. Rick’s scream of pain tore through the room as the makeshift tourniquet bit into his flesh. 

The accomplice groaned from the floor, dragging himself into a sitting position. His head lolled slightly, and blood trickled down from where Vargas had slammed him into the floor. 

“I told you shit would go south, Emily!” he shouted, his voice shaky and ragged. His gaze darted around the room, frantic and unfocused.

Another gunshot cracked through the air.

Buck barely registered it. His entire focus was on Rick, his movements automatic as he worked to slow the bleeding. But then he felt it—searing heat across his upper arm, followed by the sting of torn flesh.

“Buck, you—”

“I’m fine,” he ground out, his free hand pressed against his shoulder, coming away slick with blood. He could feel a dent where his flesh should be. It had sliced him right open. 

He shook his head, trying to clear the haze that threatened to pull him under. His focus fell back to Rick, whose face was already pale and sweat-slicked, his breathing shallow. Buck adjusted the tourniquet, tightening it further despite the fresh cry it drew from Rick.

Blood smeared Buck’s hands, his own and Rick’s mingling together. His thoughts raced, but he forced himself to stay grounded. To stay present. 

Eddie would know what to do. 

Every second mattered now, and he couldn’t afford to lose another.

The screaming throb in his own arm clawed for his attention, but he shoved it aside. 

He’d died before. This was nothing. 

“The gun went off because of you, okay? Everybody saw it!” the accomplice yelled, his gun jerking wildly as he waved it toward Vargas. Spit flew from his mouth as his face twisted in a mix of fear and fury. “I know how you cops spin things, trying to pin it all on me!”

“Jeremy, please!” Emily’s voice cracked, her composure unraveling as she took a half-step back. She looked ready to bolt, her hands trembling at her sides. Jeremy. 

That was his name. 

Buck filed it away, keeping his head low, forcing himself to stay fixed on Rick’s leg.

“Just– Everyone sit back down! Sit down!” She shouted. 

May stood frozen, her mouth parted in disbelief, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she stared at Buck. Her hands twitched, her instincts screaming at her to move, to help, but Ransone had a tight grip on her, restricting her from going any closer. 

He held her back, jaw set, his attention darting between Buck and the accomplice’s shaking hand on the trigger. 

“The bullet hit an artery,” Buck’s trembling hands hovered above Rick’s legs. “Emily, pass me a box,” he pointed to a box with unopened mail. 

“Don’t listen to him!” Jeremy snapped. 

But Emily ignored him. Her gaze lingered on Buck for a moment too long before she moved, grabbing a box and cautiously sliding it across the floor with her foot. 

Buck’s eyes tracked her every move, narrowing. She looked… Buck couldn’t pinpoint it. But there was something… 

Buck snatched the box and used it to elevate Rick’s leg, keeping himself working despite the tremor in his hands.

“What are you doing?!” Jeremy wailed at Emily, as if he couldn’t believe she was acting this way.

“As long as they cooperate, no one gets killed. That's what we said,” Emily answered without looking at him, her gaze focused on Rick, whose breaths were coming in shallow gasps. 

Buck now took notice that she almost looked… guilty. 

No, there was something else. 

Something he couldn’t figure out. 

Buck worked quickly, his jaw clenched so tightly that it ached. “Okay, we just check your distal pulse every…” He faltered, his breath hitching as the fire in his arm flared again, threatening to pull his focus away.

“Three minutes,” May called out softly, her voice shaky but clear.

“Yeah, every three minutes,” Buck agreed, his eyes flicking to her for a brief moment, gratitude flashing in his expression before he turned back to Rick. “You with me, buddy?”

Rick nodded slowly, his eyes fighting to stay open. “With you.” 

“Good. Good.” Buck exhaled and leaned back, he moved stiffly as he finally turned his attention to himself. 

His fingers worked to push up his short sleeve, revealing the gash on his arm. Blood flowed steadily from the deep cut, the edges of the wound jagged and angry. He pressed his hand against it. 

The bullet had missed anything vital, but had quite literally sliced right through him, leaving a thick gash that had a steady blow flow trickling down his arm. 

Thank God he wasn’t on blood thinners anymore. 

***

“My team just gave reports of shots fired within the building,” Clifford announced as he approached the group. Eddie’s world spun, his stomach twisting into knots so tight he thought he might be sick.

“We’ve just managed to get cameras in place,” Clifford continued, gesturing for them to follow. He led the group to the van, where Elaine was seated, her expression grim as she monitored the live feed. Athena tilted the screen, angling it so the rest of the 118 could see.

Eddie leaned in, his breath hitching when he saw Buck on the screen. His boyfriend was focused on his upper arm, inspecting it with a detached sort of calm that didn’t match the blood coating his sleeve and dripping steadily down. 

“Evan,” Eddie breathed out, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heart pounding through his body.

The camera shifted as Buck angled his body, giving them a clearer view of his injury.

Hen sucked in a shaky gasp. 

“Who’s that?” Bobby asked, his finger pointing toward the leg propped up on a box in the corner of the frame. Whoever it was wasn’t moving, the only visible parts of their body were their knees. “He’s not moving. How many gunshots were heard?”

“Two,” Clifford replied as Athena and Elaine leaned closer to study the scene.

“Must be… Rick?” Elaine guessed, glancing toward Athena, who gave a short nod of agreement. “He’s the only one missing from the frame.”

Athena’s gaze landed on May in Ransones arms. She looked frightened, but she kept her gaze on Buck, who was already moving back towards Rick.

“Looks like Buck gave Rick a makeshift tourniquet,” Ravi murmured, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His voice was quiet, but there was a waver to it. This was what they were supposed to do. Evaluate. Even in the worst moments. “But it looks like he’s experiencing severe blood loss.” 

“Any more and he’s going into shock,” Hen sighed, her eyes training on Buck’s arm. “Doesn’t look too deep, definitely a clean slice.”

“That’s a lot of blood for a clean slice, Hen,” Eddie snapped, bouncing slightly on his toes like he couldn’t keep still. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“I’m here!” Maddie’s voice rang out from behind the group and dove in, throwing her arms around Chimney in a hug. Her face was streaked with tears. She looked beyond distraught, and that was putting it lightly. “Is Buck okay? What’s happening now?”

“Buck’s been… shot, but he’s fine,” Hen jumped in quickly. “He got nicked by his shoulder. Right now, we’re waiting on SWAT and our next lead.” 

“Which I think is coming our way right now,” Ravi pointed back to the monitor, where Ransone was slowly walking towards the desk, hands up in the air. 

***

“He needs to get medical attention. Now,” Buck said firmly as he looked between Emily and Jeremy. 

“No way,” Jeremy snapped back, his hand tightening around the gun. “Nobody's going anywhere.” 

Buck huffed. He really hated this bastard. 

“If this man doesn't get medical attention in the next 15 minutes, he could go into shock and die.” His gaze shifted to Emily, searching for any sign of reason. “You said it yourself, you don’t want anyone to die, right? We’re all cooperating, like you said.”

Emily jutted her chin out, her thumb grazing the red button again. “How do I know this isn’t some… scheme?”

“Because I care about the people in this room and I’d rather help you and your friends out, than let any of them die,” Buck answered, buying some time to really get in her head. He knew her well enough now. 

He’d been studying her this entire time. 

“Look, I used to be reckless. The old version of me would’ve tried my luck any chance I got.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed, her defenses still firmly in place. “And then what happened?” 

Buck let out a sad laugh. “I… had a kid. He came into my life when I was at my worst, and I changed. I fought to be a more level headed person. I became more caring of others around me. I tried to take less risks and put safety above all else… He taught me how to be a parent…” Buck’s eyes swooped over Emily, who looked like she was fighting off her emotions. “Just like your baby will.” 

“What are you talking about?” Emily scoffed, trying to play it coy, but Buck knew he had her backed into a corner. 

“You’re trying for a baby,” Buck said, his tone matter-of-fact but gentle.

“Ethan didn’t want to take an overseas assignment because the two of you are starting a family. He said he wanted to focus on building a life with you. That statement on the board. He said it himself,” Buck pointed to where it said: ‘I wanted a life of my own. A life with Emily.’

“Prenatal vitamins can dry out your skin—I noticed you scratching earlier when you were talking to Jeremy,” Buck added in, pointing to Emily’s arms and she self consciously looked down at them, jaw clenched. “And the spots where fertility hormones are injected? They can get bruised or swollen. I saw those marks on your stomach when you leaned over to grab that box for me…”

“That’s enough,” Jeremy warned, pointing his gun at Buck, but that threat was getting old now. 

“That room Ethan was renovating—it’s meant to be a nursery, isn’t it? That’s why he needed the acetone.” Buck sighed, catching Emily’s gaze when he dipped his head. “Listen to me. I know you didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. It’s okay. You’re just trying to protect the person you want to be the father of your child… My boyfriend is ex-military. And if he were in this position, I would do the same thing just to keep him with our kid.” 

“You’re having a kid?” Jeremy glared at her.

“No, I—”

“How about this,” Ransone cut off their argument, slowly rising from his seat to walk closer. “I have a lead I’ve just thought of, and I know Buckley here can help me fill in the pieces, but I’ll only give it to you, if you let Detective Romero leave and get the medical attention he deserves. How’s that?”

“You’re in no fucking place to negotiate!” Jeremy snapped. “None!”

“Jeremy, I think we should say yes,” Emily chewed on her lower lip. “We want this to be over, right? We want to help Ethan. Let’s just let the Detective leave.”

“Rick, you still with me?” Buck checked his pulse, it was slowing down. Rick offered a sleepy grunt. “We’re running out of time here!” 

“No! Everyone is fucking lying to me!” Jeremy yelled louder, his movements growing more wild. His inner ticking time bomb was close to the end of its line. “No way!” 

“Then you become a murderer,” May spoke up, her voice still shaky, but carrying loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “And there are a dozen witnesses to prove it.”

“It’ll count as self defense,” Jeremy argued and May let out a dry, humorless laugh.

“Bullshit. Not when you’re holding the victim hostage in his place of work. Never mind the fact that he’s an officer of the law. You let this man die, and I’ll personally see to it you get sentenced for life.” 

“Watch your fucking tone, young lady,” Jeremy warned her, his gun now aiming right at May. Buck lunged in front of her, blocking Jeremy’s path. Jeremy held the gun higher. It was difficult for Buck to fully cover May when they were both on the floor and Jeremy had a standing advantage. 

“You so much as leave a scratch on her, and you and I will both leave here with murder charges,” Buck warned. “Lower your gun. Now.”  

“Now, soldier!” Emily urged Jeremy next, who flashed a glare at her before he unwillingly lowered his weapon. “She can take the detective out of here. She’s just a kid.”

“No fucking way!” Jeremy disagreed, shaking his head quickly. “He leaves on his own. End of story.” 

“He can barely keep his fucking eyes open!” Buck countered, gesturing to Rick who had Ransone tapping and pinching his cheeks to keep him awake. 

“You need to remember what we're doing here, who we are here for!” Emily urged again, turning to Jeremy. “The man who saved your life is behind enemy lines right now. And he needs you to keep your cool.” 

“FUCK!” Jeremy screamed, turning around for a moment and wiping his hand over his face. He sucked in a shaky breath and turned back around. “Fine they both go, but that’s it. No more negotiations after this. And you tell us your lead. You hear me?”

“We hear you,” Ransone agreed, looking towards Vargas who hadn’t moved since the shooting, too scared to even breathe too loud now. “Help me get him up.” 

“Buck, I can’t leave you,” May protested, standing up and going straight towards him as he struggled to push himself up on his good arm.

“Oh yes, you can,” he answered, rolling his shoulder before reaching to cup her face. He’d wiped most of the blood off his hands and onto his jeans, so bare specs landed across her face. “You can and you will, okay?”

Buck pulled her in for a tight hug, taking in her familiar scent, her warm presence. Memorizing it just like he should’ve with Eddie this morning. With Chris. 

This would be the last time he ever hugged May Grant. 

***

“With all due respect, Sergeant, we need to follow protocol here,” Clifford placed his hands on his hips. “Shots fired changes the game. They had plenty of time to listen to reason and they didn’t. We’ve got two men in the line of duty with gunshot wounds.”

Eddie hadn’t taken his eyes off of the monitor. Watching Buck’s every move.

He watched Buck talk or yell or beg, he wasn’t so sure. He wished he could hear what they were saying, but whatever it was, clearly had the female, Emily, looking just about ready to burst into tears.

Buck had that effect on people sometimes. 

Eddie watched May too. Someone he considered to be like a little sister. How she was fighting off her tears again, how she watched Buck and Buck only, because he was her main source of safety. 

And then the gun was pointed right at her.

Athena’s hand landed right on Bobby’s arm for support and everyone went deathly quiet. 

And then Buck moved in between her and the gun, looking determined and quite frankly, a little terrifying. 

Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the poor quality camera or not, but Buck had a sort of… dead inside look behind his eyes in that very moment. He said something to the male, Jeremy, who slowly lowered his gun, much to everyone’s surprise. 

The group had all let out collective breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, and Athena let out a choked sound of relief, allowing Bobby to clutch her in his arms.  

“What's going on now?” Ravi pointed back to the monitor, watching as Buck pulled May in for a hug, and Athena held up a hand, watching as Rick was hauled to his feet. She straightened her posture.

“A negotiation.” 

***

“What am I supposed to do, Buck?” May sobbed out when they reached the elevator doors. Ransone and Buck had taken Rick’s weight, leaving Vargas inside with the rest of the group, and had walked him out into the hallway with May and Emily close behind. 

“You know what to do,” he murmured, holding her face again while Ransone held the elevator door open and Rick slumped against him. He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, anything to offer a semblance of comfort. “You know the protocol. You walk out of those doors slowly with your free hand up. You tell them your name right away, who your mom is, and you tell them Rick’s name and status.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” she shook her head frantically, fresh tears bursting out and Buck's heart shattered into a million and one pieces. 

“Oh kiddo, you have to,” he wiped some other tears away, his thumb shaking. He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but he knew he didn’t have much time either. His blood loss wasn’t as quick as Rick’s had been, but he’d get there. May just couldn’t know that right now. “You’ve saved thousands of lives, and now I need you to save one more. Just one more.”  

“But w-what if something happens to you?” She whispered now, briefly stealing a glance at Emily in her peripheral. “What do I tell mom and Bobby?” 

“Hey, I-I’m not going anywhere. Not for a very very long time and most certainly not today,” he promised, putting on a signature Buck Smile for her. He knew how dangerous promises could be and hell, May might hate him for this one when he breaks it. “We still haven’t had that ‘Yes Day’ together, remember? You just worry about saving Rick right now.”

May nodded quickly, letting Buck wipe more of her tears before she gave him one last tight hug, and he kissed the top of her head. “Okay,” she breathed out, moving into the elevator with Rick, and letting Ransone sling Rick’s arm over her shoulders.

He took a step back and Buck said one last thing before the doors slid shut. 

“I love you, May.” 

***

Athena spotted them first. 

“Hold your fire!” She yelled, rushing forward with Hen and Chimney and their med kit close behind. “Hold your fire, they’re one of us! That is Detective Romero and my daughter, May Grant. Do not shoot!”  

“Mom!” May wailed, raw and broken. Her knees buckled just as Hen and Chimney reached them, catching Rick from her grasp, and Athena managed to catch May in her arms, the pair dropping to the ground. “Mom—Buck, he wouldn’t let me stay with him! H-He’s still up there, mom!” 

“I know, baby,” Athena whispered, her voice steady even as her own heart felt like it was splintering. She pulled May closer, her fingers brushing through her daughter’s hair in soothing strokes. Bobby knelt beside them, his arms encircling both women in a protective hold. “I know, baby. We’re doing everything we can to get them down here safely, okay? Don’t you worry. Buckaroo is a fighter.”

Eddie stood a few feet away, his body stiff and his mind unraveling. He felt helpless, just standing there, watching it all play out in slow motion. 

He should’ve been doing something— anything —but instead, he was standing here, useless, watching.

And in the darkest, most selfish corner of his mind, Eddie couldn’t stop the thought that clawed its way to the surface.

If Buck had been the one severely shot instead of Rick, he’d be down here right now. He’d be in Eddie’s arms, getting the help he needed. He’d be safe.

He’d be safe in Eddie’s arms.

But instead, he was still up there, clutching his wound and figuring out a case for someone he didn’t owe shit to. 

Ravi watched him from the corner of his eye, noting the subtle twitch in Eddie’s fingers, the way his weight shifted from one foot to the other like he was seconds away from bolting through the doors and charging in himself.

“Come on baby,” Eddie murmured to himself, earning a frown from Ravi that he didn’t notice. “Fight like hell.” 

***

“So, your friend is down there, what's your lead?” Jeremy looked over to Ransone just as he, Buck and Emily walked back inside. 

Buck felt a heavy sense of dread fall on him as he stepped back inside the room. He did a once over at everyone crouched down, looking terrified. These were innocent people. 

“Call them,” Ransone gestured to the phone and Emily moved ahead, dialing the number they’d been communicating with. 

“This is Captain Maynard,” Elaine answered in a flash. “What’s going on?” 

“I think I have a lead,” Ransone stated. “I need units to canvass any bodegas within walking distance of that rehab facility from earlier. Because if Glenn dropped our killer off there, then the killer probably doesn't have a car. Patients come and go, but every addict I've ever known goes for the same thing every morning. Coffee and cigarettes.” 

“Way ahead of you, Detective,” Elaine answered. “We sent someone out fifteen minutes ago to do just that. We got a possible suspect. Security footage from an ATM by the register got a look at him. We’re just waiting for the image. We’ll forward it to Glenn's number.” 

“Thanks, Captain,” Ransone sighed and dropped against the desk. 

Buck was still clutching his arm, but he was looking back and the board again. Something else was missing, something wasn’t adding up here, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. 

He and Eddie had always been so good at working together on things like this. Him and Taylor too. But neither of them were here to brainstorm with him. Eddie was downstairs anyway, and if he had any ideas, he would’ve sent them up by now. 

The thought of being so close to Eddie in proximity, but yet so far, created a deep ache in Buck’s chest. It hurt a hell of a lot more than the gunshot wound. 

A moment later, Glenn’s phone pinged and Ransone reached out for it, still in the packet, and punched the code in that Glenn’s daughter had given them earlier. Buck walked around the desk to get a look at the photo, trying not to let the dizziness take over just yet, and his expression dropped. 

“What is it?” Jeremy snapped, marching closer to get a look at the image, and Ransone turned the phone around for him. Jeremy snatched the device away and took a hard look at the photo. Emily peered over from a few feet away. 

“Did you get it?” Elaine asked on the other side of the line.

“What the fuck is this shit?!” Jeremy roared. “This- This is a blurry fucking photo! That’s what we’ve been fucking waiting for? I thought you were the best detective in here!” He shoved at Ransone’s chest, the gun barrel pressing right where Ransone’s heart was. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Buck intervened, attempting to wedge his way in between Ransone and Jeremy. What’s another bullet in him? “He’s doing his best! L-Look at the photo again!”

“There’s nothing to fucking look at!” Jeremy roared, shoving the gun in Buck’s direction, into his shoulder wound when Buck made a second attempt at getting between the two men. Buck let out a loud, agonized cry as the metal barrel tore his skin open further. 

“What’s going on?!” Elaine’s voice cut through. “Firefighter Buckley, what’s—” the line went dead. Emily had hung up. 

“Th-The suspect is wearing a field jacket!” Buck cried out, stammering over his words out of sheer desperation to get the gun out of his arm. Ransone had been shoved against the desk with Buck’s entire body weight falling onto him. 

Buck felt his knees give in when Jeremy pressed the gun deeper. Stars danced behind Buck’s tightly shut eyes. “I-I swear! Look at the photo properly. I-I know what a field jacket looks like. Just—Just look!”  

“He’s right,” Emily spoke. She’d picked up Glenn’s phone after it had dropped to the floor in the commotion. “Jeremy, look. It is a field jacket. One of us.” 

Jeremy kept the gun right where it was, moving down as Buck sank to his knees, unable to keep himself upright any longer. He looked over his shoulder at the phone and squinted. After five agonizingly long seconds, he pulled the gun away and fresh bouts of blood flowed out of Buck’s arm, dripping onto the floor. 

He could already feel himself growing dizzier. He clocked right away what was happening to him. There was significantly more tissue damage, causing a heavier bleed. Which also meant more disrupted blood vessels, much like what Rick was suffering through. 

The other thing was possible infection growth. Gun barrels aren’t clean. 

He knew he didn’t have much time before he went into shock. 

This is why Buck should never make promises. 

Heaving, he looked up at Emily, focusing his gaze directly on her. “This… is not how you help Ethan get another shot at life…” 

“Hey, don’t listen to him,” Jeremy stepped in front of Emily, who was looking down at Buck with a sympathetic expression. 

“He's blowing the case wide open,” Emily argued weakly. 

“He's not even a cop! We're not doing these people any more favors,” Jeremy waved the gun around at everyone in the bullpen. “I took an oath to a fellow soldier to protect him. I'm putting my life on the line for him, and you are turning soft on us.”

Emily chewed on her lower lip. “Jeremy, right now, all we need to do—”

“Do what, huh? Do what?” Jeremy cut her off just as Ransone kneeled down beside Buck, hiking up Buck’s short sleeve further. Buck barely noticed. His attention was fixed back on the whiteboard. “Sit here like idiots while they make more phone calls?” 

“Here,” Ransone murmured, yanking his tie off and lifting up Buck’s arm, making a tourniquet for him. Buck allowed Ransone to tighten the tie, giving him a soft grunt, but nothing more. 

His mind was whirring elsewhere. 

“They’re giving us jack shit!” Jeremy grunted, swiveling around on his heels and slamming his fist right into the clear white board. Everyone in the room jumped at the outburst, soft gasps emanating all over, but Buck… Buck sat up a little more. 

Ransone pulled away from Buck’s arm, his knuckles running down Buck’s skin. It was clammy. 

Buck had minutes. 

“They're feeding us worthless intel to buy time!” Jeremy continued, and Buck looked at the phone in Emily’s hand, and then back to the cracked board. His vision swam, barely making anything out other than delayed blurred objects, but he knew.  

“No, no, hey, Buck, you need to stay awake,” Ransone reached around him, tapping Buck’s cheeks. “Come on, buddy. Stay awake!” 

He just had to close his eyes for a minute.

***

Eddie was on the verge of murder.

Or throwing up. He wasn’t sure which feeling was more prominent.

“He’s going into shock,” Maddie spoke softly, her emotions shaking her tone. Chimney was holding her close, his eyes rimmed red in disbelief.

It was like watching the ladder truck crush him all over again. 

But this time, infinitely worse. 

“He’s closing his eyes,” Ravi stepped forward, looking at Bobby and Athena with wide eyes filled with panic. That was his best friend too. “We have to send SWAT in!” 

“Hang on,” Elaine leaned closer, zooming in on Buck over the live feed. “He’s talking. Give him a minute.”

“He might not have a minute,” Hen snapped. She was clutching her med kit, ready to bolt in there and save her friend's life.

They’d passed Detective Romero over to the other EMS rig. They had to be here right until Buck walked out of those doors. They weren’t going anywhere else without their family. 

Eddie’s phone rang and when he looked at the caller ID, his heart dropped. “Hey, Carla,” he tried to put on an even tone. “N-No… I’m not going to be able to fetch Chris… Our shift is going overtime on a call… Yeah. Tell… Tell Chris that uh, that Buck loves him… Thanks.” 

When he hung up, he lowered himself onto his haunches. His phone dropping on the tar in front of him, and his hands clasping behind his neck. 

For the first time in years, Eddie truly prayed. 

He prayed to the God who took Shannon, who took his parent’s love from them, from him. He prayed to a God who took Buck away from him over and over again.

He prayed to a God who only ever showed Eddie raw grief and ground shattering heartache. 

He prayed because there was nothing else he could do. Because he hoped a God would take pity on his sad, broken life and give him one last sliver of hope. 

He prayed, and the gravel dug harshly into his knees, because desperation was never pretty. It was jagged and cruel and pleading. 

And it was full of Buck. 

Eddie’s desperation was Buck. 

*** 

Buck felt his world slowly tipping on its axis. 

He felt Eddie’s hand on his heart. He felt Chris’ hand too. He felt agony and desperation.

Desperation to go home to them. To crawl because he couldn’t walk. 

He closed his eyes and saw them. He saw Maddie and Chimney. Bobby and Athena. Ravi, sweet Ravi who he’d been so cruel to. He saw Karen and Hen and Denny and Mara. He saw his best girl Jee. Taylor. He missed her. He never got to say goodbye. 

He saw Shannon. That beautiful yellow floral top. 

And he shoved it all away. 

“There was no phone call,” Buck rasped out, opening his eyes again, blinking away the blur, if only for a second. 

“You shut up!” Jeremy yelled. His face looked red. Had he been yelling this whole time? Buck wasn’t sure. He’d zoned out a bit there, but he wouldn't be surprised. 

“Just let him talk, for fuck sake!” Emily yelled back, her voice raw. She was sitting on the chair now, her gun still pointed at Buck. He looked at her other hand, her thumb still hovering over the button. 

Buck frowned. 

“There wasn't a phone call that came in on the Monday night he canceled on his daughter. Nothing to him. Only outgoing calls.” Buck mumbled, trying to haul himself up on his own. His hand landed with an awkward thud on the desk, his strength was depleting rapidly.

Ransone caught him quickly. “I got you, Buck, just hang on. Hang on,” he reassured with a grunt. Buck was bigger than him, but with impressive skill, Ransone managed to drop Buck on the next office chair. 

“No incoming call to tell him to go downtown from the killer,” Buck rambled, his words slowly starting to slur. “Get box— Get… Get me the papers,” he pointed in the general direction of the desk and Ransone stepped forward.

“Not you,” Jeremy warned, his gun going back up. “Emily, hand the papers over.”

Emily did as she was told, and placed them in front of Buck, who shook out his head, forcing himself awake. For an extra measure, he pinched his thigh hard enough to send a jolt through him. 

He saw the receipts in front of him and held one up, scanning it. “No text saying that whoever it was, was in trouble…” 

“Okay, so?” Jeremy pressed. 

“So, how would Frank know where to go?” Ransone joined in, bending down to look at the receipts too. At this rate, he could read a lot faster than Buck. He pulled away the next receipt and let out a huff of disbelief. 

“Two weeks ago, Glenn bought a luggage locator tag,” Ransone looked over between Jeremy and Emily. Buck slouched back now, letting Ransone take over for the time being. 

Everything was spinning. Buck pressed two fingers to his pulse. It was slowing. 

He needed Hen and Chimney. 

Anyone. 

If his timing was correct, as jumbled as it may be, he roughly had under ten minutes. Maybe less. 

He wasn't even sure how long he’d been sitting in this chair. 

“Glenn had no travel plans,” Buck mumbled, his head dropping back against the chair, throat bared to the ceiling. “Nothing in his phone wallet. No tick–tickets. No map destina–destin… He wasn’t meeting up with this person…” 

“He was tracking them,” Ransone whispered, looking at Buck in bewilderment, who nodded weakly, his Adam's apple bobbing uncomfortably as he tried to swallow. “He wanted to know if the soldier he cared about was doing harder drugs. When he saw that the tag had gone to a place that was known for selling these drugs, Glenn drove there to pick him up.”

Buck winced when he tried to sit up more, using his wounded arm and resting it on the desk in front of him. “He was… tracking the soldier.” 

“And how does this help?” Jeremy asked both men. 

“Killer didn’t know,” Buck answered quietly, sucking in a breath and forcing his eyes back open. He felt Ransone’s fingers press against his pulse on his neck. “Still being tracked.” 

“Get my Captain back on the line,” Ransone ordered. 

***

“I need details,” Elaine spoke as an answer. They were seconds away from raiding the precinct. 

They were still teetering on the fine line of rushing in there and risking the bomb going off before they can shoot both soldiers down, and waiting it out to catch the real killer for their friend, but now with a firefighter’s life on the line, things had grown severely complicated. 

“‘Thena,” Buck mumbled.

“I’m here, firefighter,” Athena jumped forward, her face etched with worry. She hadn’t stopped pacing since May had come out unscathed. 

Eddie looked up from the ground when he heard Buck’s voice, broken hope swelling in his chest. 

“There’s a… l-locator tag. No, luggage. Luggage tag, sorry—” 

“There’s an app,” Ransone cut Buck off. They needed to work quickly. “And according to this, the tag was in Glenn’s RV on the date and time of the murder. The shooter knew he'd be dishonorably discharged if Glenn wrote him up and exposed his drug use.”

“We know this part, Detective,” Elaine answered this time. “Tell us more about the tag. Who the hell is this guy?”

Ransone sighed. “I don't know, but I can tell you where he is right now.” 

“What’s the address?” Elaine asked, pulling up a new window on the monitor. 

“8700 Solano Avenue,” Ransone answered and Elaine typed quickly. 

“According to city records, the tag's at the residence of Ben Spoelstra. Looks like we got our guy.” 

“Was he… in m-military?” Buck asked weakly and Eddie’s heart tore apart all over again. Hearing him that weak, that helpless… 

It was easily the worst thing Eddie has ever had to endure. 

No tour could compare. 

“Let's see. Army Reserve, private, currently on temporary duty at Joint Forces Training Base, Los Alamitos.” Elaine read out. 

“Where Glenn taught,” Bobby observed, arms crossed. 

“Hey… g-guys? He's on-on the move,” Buck mumbled and everyone froze except for Bobby and Athena. 

“We’re on our way.” 

***

“Can we get him some water, please?!” Vargas gestured over to Buck. “He’s barely conscious—”

“Water won’t help,” Jeremy growled, but Emily got up regardless, moving over to the water dispenser and grabbing a paper cup. Jeremy scoffed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you love this guy more than Ethan.”

“Shut up, Jeremy,” Emily snapped back. “I’m just trying to help. We said no one dies.”

“He’s not dying!” Jeremy exclaimed.

Buck allowed Ransone to put the cup to his lips and he swallowed small sips. “I am d-dying,” he mumbled, dropping his head back against the chair again. “Minutes.” 

“No, you’re not,” Ransone insisted, abandoning the cup to hold Buck’s face in his hands instead. “You got your family down there waiting for you. You are not dying today, you hear me?”

Buck offered a tired smile. It didn’t last long, but it was there. “I-I’ve made my peace, D-Detective. Just… Just thought it wouldn’t be over… this,” he made a half attempt to point at the arm wound, and despite himself, Ransone let out a sad laugh.

“You’ve faced worse, kid, you’ll get through this too.” 

“You’re the guy who got crushed by the fire truck…” Emily spoke slowly, recognition clouding her features and Buck nodded a little. Emily said nothing after that.

“Ransone,” Buck whispered. 

“Lou,” Ransone corrected, clutching Buck’s hand when he reached for it. 

“Lou… You–You gotta tell everyone I’m s-sorry,” Buck licked his lips, feeling copper on his tongue. 

“Sorry for what?” Ransone shook his head. “You cracked this case and saved so many people here today. You have nothing to be sorry for, Evan Buckley. You saved my life. Everyone’s lives.” 

“Mmm,” Buck offered another smile again, eyes closed, and then the phone rang.

Emily answered on the first ring.

“We got him,” Elaine’s voice came from the other side, just as Buck’s hand slipped from Ransone’s.

“Great timing, Elaine,” Ransone answered, voice full of panic. No bother in masking any of it now. “We just lost Firefighter Buckley’s pulse.”

***

Eddie has known grief his whole life. 

He’d endured it in mild circumstances like a lost great grandmother he’d only met twice. 

Endured it a little closer to home, like an old high school friend, or an ex girlfriend.

On more serious occasions, more alarming, like out in Afghanistan. 

Or Shannon. 

But this… this was the worst of them all. 

Ransone’s words rang out in his head over and over as the world kept spinning. 

We just lost Firefighter Buckley’s pulse.

We just lost Firefighter Buckley’s pulse.

We just lost Firefighter Buckley. 

We just lost Buckley. 

We just lost Buck. 

We lost Buck. 

“No,” Eddie stumbled into a standing position, and the person to catch him was Ravi, hand firmly pressed against his chest. “No, no, no—”

“Easy, easy, Eds,” Ravi spoke, but his voice was so far away. A million miles away. Ten million. 

“He’s not gone yet, Eddie,” Hen’s voice came from somewhere now too. Next to him? He didn’t know. “See? Ransone is doing chest compressions. W-We’re getting in there right now, okay?”

“He’s not gone yet,” Hen repeated, but Eddie couldn’t hear her anymore. She didn’t know that for sure. His chances were much lower considering how long he’d been suffering in there.

He’d faced the dizziness, the disorientation, the slurred speech. 

He’d passed all the checkpoints and reached his final destination. 

He’d been dead for fifteen seconds already. 

Not three minutes, no, but this… this was it. 

Seventeen seconds. 

***

“Jeremy, did you hear that? We did it. We saved him!” Emily breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. But then her eyes landed on Buck, reminding her that their struggle wasn’t over yet. 

“Why don't you put those down, and we'll figure out the rest together, okay?” Vargas stood up slowly, his hands held out. “EMTs will come up and take the firefighter and we can go from there. Yeah? What do you say?”

Jeremy sniffed, looking between Vargas and Ransone, who was still continuing with chest compressions. There was a crack from Buck’s ribcage and one of the civilian hostages winced, but no one else did. 

They’d heard that sound before. 

“Come on, Buck,” Ransone grunted, working harder. 

“You know what? I say fuck that,” Jeremy announced, lowering the hilt of his gun down onto the back of Emily’s head with an abrupt, sickening thud. 

Emily’s eyes widened just for a millisecond, before she dropped to the ground, unconscious. Just like that. The entire room stilled once more. 

“This isn't over until I get what I want, okay?!” Jeremy looked around wildly, his gun shaking in his grip. He bent down quickly to retrieve the bomb remote, his thumb lingering dangerously close. 

If only Buck were alive to witness the human time bomb go off. 

“Okay,” Vargas answered slowly. He was back on his knees now, in front of Emily.  “Whatever you want, big guy.” 

“You, come here. Call your Captain,” Jeremy pointed at Ransone, who’s gaze narrowed in a fierce glare. 

“Like hell I am. I’m not stopping these compressions.” 

“I’ll do it,” Vargas offered quickly and Jeremy rolled his eyes. Ransone looked back at Buck, his linked hands moving up and down robotically. His movements only stuttered when Buck’s hand loosely closed around one of his wrists. 

“Fine. You tell her I want a deal now, or I press this button.” 

“N-No… he won't,” Buck grunted, half-there, half-not. He wasn’t sure where he was, really. Well, physically, he knew. But whether this was in his head or not was a whole other story.

But hey, he had some unfinished business. 

“The hell I won't,” Jeremy’s face had gone pale. Buck couldn’t tell in his haze if the guy was relieved Buck was alive or not. 

“You… won’t,” Buck coughed out, his face contorting at the discomfort of a broken rib piercing his insides. Delightful. “He p-presses that button… the only thing that could happen i-is maybe a garage door… goes up. Alth— I doubt he's in ran-range.” 

Jeremy scoffed, readjusting his grip on the remote. “This bomb will level this place. They'll find you all in pieces!” 

Vargas’ hand was hovering over the landline. He’d already pressed the call button so everyone downstairs could hear. 

“I-It might… If it was… real,” Buck tried to sit up on his own, but his muscles could barely get him to roll onto his side, so Ransone carefully helped him up a bit until his back was half pressed to Ransone’s body. 

His head dropped heavily against Ranson’s chest. It wouldn’t be long before he was out again. 

He needed to do this one last thing to save everyone else.

“You're bluffing,” Jeremy laughed, his thumb still skimming the button. “You’re also out of your fucking mind. You can barely keep your eyes open!” 

“I-I'm not. I'm just… remem… remembering,” Buck sniffed deeply, pushing aside that piercing agony. He closed his eyes again and saw it all right in front of him. 

When he’d walked into the precinct that morning, he’d noticed the dog. 

“Remembering what?” Jeremy pressed. 

“1991 Montreal Convention,” Buck started slowly, his hand weakly pressed to his ribcage as he tried to control his breathing. “R-Ransone, you r-emember?” 

“All manufacturers of plastic explosives in the US are required to include a detection taggant,” Ransone nodded, finishing Buck’s explanation. “It's a substance that humans can't smell, but it acts as an irritant to the noses of dogs, both trained and untrained.”

“Mhm… there was a dog here… this morning. It-It was happy,” Buck continued. “Whatever is in that box, it didn't bother it. I-It's homemade. Emily b-built it…”

“Oh, yeah?” Jeremy laughed. “You help her or something?”

“Hang on,” Ransone frowned, piecing together what Buck was trying to get at. “Did you see her build it, or did she just tell you she did?” 

A long pause of silence followed from Jeremy and Buck let out a weak laugh. 

“That—That's what I thought….” 

“Because there's no way a woman who's trying to get pregnant is gonna risk handling the toxic chemicals that it requires to make a bomb,” Ransone continued again, practically reading Buck's mind. “You guys didn't show up here together, did you?”

“I remember… seeing you here when I arrived,” Buck half pointed to Jeremy. Or somewhere near Jeremy. Or he’d pointed at nothing. That was the more viable option. “The ice pack. W-With Vargas.” 

“You wanted to get here a little early because you didn't want people to know that you knew each other,” Ransone added. 

“And the package,” Vargas spoke up now, his brows raising. “You can’t just walk up here with one unless it’s been signed off and looked through. How did it get up here?” 

“Backpack,” Buck mumbled. “Checked through. Approved. Made it up to the bathrooms h-here— ow, fuck.” Buck hissed at a sharp shooting pain that rolled through his body. His face momentarily buried itself into the crook of Ransone’s arm. 

The only good thing this pain was doing for him, was keeping him from flatlining again. 

“The b-box was… disassembled,” he continued after taking two long, ragged breaths. “Put everything in th– backpack into the box.”

Ransone nodded.  “It sure looks heavy enough to pass as a bomb. Right box size for a perfect fit too.”

Emily stirred on the floor and Buck only realized what had happened to her in that moment. So Jeremy really was the bigger asshole here, no surprise. 

“They’re right,” she replied slowly, pushing herself up into a sitting position despite her swaying a little. There was a bruise forming on her forehead from how she landed. “There is no bomb… I lied, I’m sorry. I-I couldn’t risk us dying too—”

Vargas took Jeremy’s moment of pure shock and with practiced precision, he lunged forward, his leg sweeping under Jeremy’s feet, knocking them out from under him. Jeremy stumbled backward, letting out a cry of surprise, his grip on the gun faltering as he tried to regain balance. Vargas followed through with a full-bodied tackle, slamming Jeremy to the ground, the gun skittering a few inches away.

“Get the gun!” Vargas shouted, locking Jeremy’s wrists and struggling against his wild thrashing. Two more officers rushed in, one pinning Jeremy’s legs while the other reached for the weapon. With steady hands, the officer snatched the gun, quickly clearing it before holstering it securely.

“Stay down!” Vargas barked, his weight keeping Jeremy immobilized as the other officers reinforced the hold and shoved handcuffs on him. 

One of the officers lunged for Emily, who tried to bolt, and they got her in handcuffs in mere seconds. 

“We got them!” Vargas yelled out towards the landline where Elaine and the rest had been listening the entire time. “We got them.”

Just like that, it was over. 

All that, for something so easy. 

***

Eddie didn’t care that SWAT were rushing the building. 

He didn’t care that his Captain, the LAPD Captain, and the Chief of SWAT were all yelling for him to stop. 

He didn’t care about losing his job or getting written up, because Buck was in there.

Christopher’s Buck. 

Jee’s Buck. 

May’s Buck. 

The 118’s Buck. 

His Buck.

“Move, move, move!” SWAT members yelled out, rushing up the stairs and Eddie was running in the mix with them, ignoring Bobby’s yells to him over their team radios. 

If Eddie closed his eyes for even half a second, he knew he’d be transported right back to Afghanistan, so he kept them firmly open, reminding himself that he was in Los Angeles, far, far away from that place. 

“Put your hands in the air! All of you!” SWAT members screamed the second they entered the bullpen and each hostage raised their hands, moving onto their haunches. 

Eddie spotted Ransone with his hands up, Buck slumped against him, eyes half open. 

Buck was right there. 

“Buck!” Eddie yelled, shoving his way through the SWAT team, but one blocked his way. 

“You’re not authorized—” 

“He’s dying!” Eddie yelled, shoving the guy away like he weighed next to nothing, revealing Buck with his eyes open now. Hearing Eddie’s voice had been enough to get him up and God, Eddie didn’t know that discovery would have such a profound effect on him.

“Easy, Buck,” Ransone helped him when he tried to sit up properly, most likely in an attempt to get up and run to Eddie. “He’s coming, hang on, he’s coming.” 

Eddie leapt over the items on the floor, Jeremy included, and dropped to his knees right in front of Ransone and Buck. “I got it from here,” Eddie spoke quickly. 

“You, come with me!” A SWAT member pointed at Ransone, who put his hands back up and stood slowly, telling the SWAT guy that his badge was in his pocket beside his holstered gun. 

“You-You’re here,” Buck croaked out, a weak, half-present smile forming again as Eddie moved his hands under Buck to get a good hold on him. 

“Course I am, cariño,” Eddie’s voice was scratchy, daring to let his tears spill again, but he had to keep moving. Had to help Buck as best as he could. “I’ll always come save you. Always.” 

“You just keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here,” Eddie hoisted him up with all the care in the world and stood up again. To him, Buck weighed next to nothing. 

He’d never been so grateful to be a firefighter before. 

“Out the way!” Eddie’s voice boomed over SWAT. “Firefighter coming through!” He weaved his way between the bodies and guns swiftly, rushing towards the staircase once more and taking all that training and practice and doubling it, tripling it, working his legs over time. 

Amidst the chaos, Buck was mumbling into Eddie’s neck, but he could barely hear. He was too focused on his feet, making sure he didn’t trip and send them both falling. 

The front of the precinct met him before Eddie had taken a full breath. Chimney and Hen already had the gurney and med kits out, ready to meet Eddie and Buck at the entrance.

“Oh we got you, Buckaroo,” Hen spoke upon their arrival, relief clouding her vision. “We got you.” 

Eddie gently lowered Buck onto the gurney just as the rest of the 118 arrived, May included. 

“Buck!” She wailed, attempting to rush to his side, but Bobby’s firm grip held her back, giving Hen and Chimney space to move swiftly, working in unison to stabilize Buck for transport.

“He’s slipping!” Chimney’s voice broke with urgency as Buck’s eyelids fluttered closed and the heart monitor began to emit slow, erratic beeps.

“Buck, stay with us!” Hen barked, snapping on gloves as Chimney grabbed the AED pads from the kit, hands trembling but moving quickly. Eddie hovered at the edge of the gurney, stuck as a cold fear gripped him. 

Athena had to pull him back by his arm, her voice firm. “Let them work, Eddie.”

Hen began chest compressions without hesitation, her hands steady and rhythmic against Buck’s sternum. “Come on, Buckaroo, don’t you dare do this to us again,” she muttered, moving her hands away from his chest. 

Chim slapped the pads onto Buck’s chest, the machine chirping as it analyzed. "Clear!" he called, and everyone instinctively stepped back as the shock jolted through Buck’s motionless body.

The monitor remained flatlined.

“Come on!” Hen resumed compressions, sweat beading on her forehead as Chimney set up another shock. 

Eddie’s knees buckled, and Maddie caught him in her arms this time, clinging desperately onto each other. May’s muffled sobs carried in the wind. Bobby whispered a quiet prayer, his hands clasped tight with May’s. 

“Charging again,” Chim announced, his voice hard with determination, eyes glossing over. “Clear!”

The second jolt hit, Buck’s body twitching slightly. For a long, excruciating moment, the flatline held, and the world seemed to hold its breath. 

Time stretched unbearably thin. Elaine and Ransone stood nearby, their faces grim, their usual stoicism cracked. Vargas shifted uneasily beside them, his breath shallow.

Then—

Beep.

A weak, irregular beep broke the silence. Then another. And another. 

“He’s back,” Hen breathed, relief flooding her voice.  “Got a pulse—weak, but it’s there.”

Chimney exhaled loudly, already working to secure an oxygen mask over Buck’s face. “Let’s move him now before we lose him again.” 

“Can’t…” Buck swallowed thickly, eyes barely opening. “Can’t get… rid of-of me that e-easily.”

Athena let out a choked laugh and Eddie instinctively reached out, removed the oxygen mask and planted a firm, desperate kiss on Buck’s lips. 

Despite being half alive, Buck’s hands lifted off the gurney slightly, partially in shock, partially to cling to Eddie, but he couldn’t quite make it, leaving his arms to drop at his sides.

Eddie pulled away panting, feeling exceptionally exposed, but ignoring the stares he got. It didn’t matter anymore. Telling them didn’t matter anymore. 

“I love you,” Eddie whispered and Buck’s lips twitched. 

“I… l-love you, Eds.”

There was no point in teetering on the edge of saying those three words anymore. Not when their love was so painfully obvious. To everyone. To them. 

Hen and chimney decided to ignore whatever… that was and the pair moved quickly to load Buck up into the rig that had been moved closer to the entrance for quicker transport, and Eddie climbed in with Maddie as soon as the gurney was stable.

Eddie’s legs moved on their own accord. 

Buck died. Twice. 

And now he was alive and his hand was in Eddie’s and they were in love and Eddie just couldn’t believe it. 

He didn’t want to get his hopes up again.

But for now, Buck was alive. 

Again.

Maybe there was a God after all. 

***

A day later, Buck was being discharged from the hospital. 

He’d woken up hours after the incident in Presbyterian, with his wound all stitched up, a freshly done blood transfusion, and, you guessed it, blood thinners. 

Blood Thinner Boy made a surprising guest star return for this season of Buck's life, and Chimney would never let him hear the end of it. 

The 118 hadn’t left Buck’s side once. They’d done rotations to get food and stale coffee, but mostly mingled around the room or outside when he slept. 

May especially. 

She’d clung to him the second he’d woken up and Bobby had to not so subtly hint that maybe she should let the others hug Buck, and she’d only held on tighter, but Buck didn’t mind having her close by. 

She’d fallen asleep on his hospital bed, tucked under his good arm, while he spoke with the others, explaining to them why he was going to speak to Athena in the first place.

“Oh we know,” Hen had said with an amused snort. “We all saw that kiss Eddie gave you.”

“Talk about breathing life back into someone,” Ravi teased. 

“The kiss of life!” Chimney declared dramatically, with his hands held out wide. 

“Pretty sure that’s not how you do CPR, Eds,” Maddie joined in too, patting Eddie’s shoulder, who’d gone bright red and had to hide his face in his hands for a moment to collect himself. 

Chris had only been slightly jealous that May had gotten so much attention, until Buck let him climb up on the bed too. Then he was more than happy to share his Buck with May. 

At one point, Athena and Bobby were sitting in the room with May and Buck alone, while the pair slept in each other's arms. They had well and truly trauma bonded their way into a solid companionship just like all of them had. 

Well, Buck was awake, but he was nosy, so he pretended to sleep, just to hear what they were talking about.

“You know,” Bobby had said softly. “The last time Buck was in the hospital, after the lightning, May had said you’d brought two kids into the marriage and I’d brought Buck…”

Athena had smiled and reached to squeeze Bobby’s hand. “She wasn’t wrong, you know…” Athena tilted her head, letting out a sigh. “It’s nice to see them close like this… Our babies.” 

“Yeah,” Bobby had agreed and Buck just couldn’t contain his smile, resulting in Bobby and Athen catching him out like a sneaky child. The room had erupted in laughs of disbelief and everything was right in the Buckley-Nash family once more. 

Aside from May being attached to Buck’s hip, Eddie had very rarely let go of Buck’s hand. 

He’d gone as far as even following Buck into the bathroom to help him stand long enough so he could pee because Buck still hadn’t gained his full strength back. 

Buck had said that was the lowest point of his life, but then Eddie had listed all the points in Buck’s life when he had, in fact, reached lower points. 

“Like… dating Tommy for example,” Eddie had acknowledged cheekily and boy, he was lucky he was Buck’s best friend too. 

Buck hadn’t disagreed with him. 

Now, he was finally all checked out and ready to spend the next few weeks on Eddie’s couch with no lawsuit in the near future and a stack of movies that he and May planned to watch while she was on school holidays, and at least a dozen baking recipes to try out with Chris. 

“Hey,” Eddie said upon approaching Buck at the front desk, who was half leaning on it. “Did you see Athena? She was walking in when I pulled the car upfront.”

“No?” Buck frowned, looking around the area for a moment. He reached for his ID from the woman and slipped it back into his wallet. His shoulder was still stiff, so every time he moved, it ached. Not to mention his cracked ribs. 

Yes, plural. Rasnone had managed to crack two. 

Speaking of Ransone. 

“There she is,” Buck jutted his chin out when he spotted Ransone and her stepping out into the reception space with… “Emily,” Buck cleared his throat, his expression hardening.

Apparently she’d suffered from a light concussion from the heavy blow Jeremy had given her with the hilt of the gun. They had kept her overnight to monitor her in case of a potential brain bleed.

Clearly she was fine, because she was back in handcuffs, ready to be processed. 

“Firefighter Buckley,” Emily breathed out and Athena and Ransone came to a stop a few feet away from him and Eddie. “This must be him… right? The ex-military boyfriend?” 

Buck didn’t answer, he just jutted his chin out more. He felt bad for her, in a way. He knows he would’ve done something reckless if Eddie needed his help, but he would’ve never put people’s lives like that in danger. 

“A-Anyway,” Emily continued nervously. “Thank you… for helping with Ethan. He’s free because of you.”

“You didn’t give us much choice,” he replied with a brow raised and Eddie’s hand gently lowered onto his good shoulder to ground him a bit. Or to restrain himself from moving around Buck and saying something cruel to this woman. 

Either or. 

“Still,” Emily offered a weak smile that disappeared quickly. “Ethan’s out now… Your attention to detail is amazing… Just—I'm sorry. I really didn't mean for—” 

“I know you didn't,” Buck cut her off, raising a hand. He gave her a small smile. “I'm glad justice was served and that an innocent man is free.”

Emily found herself smiling a little too. Despite going to prison herself, she was still happy for Ethan. That kind of love was rare.

Buck took a step closer, Eddie’s hand slipping away. When he got even closer, his smile dropped, eyes going cold. “But you put my sister in danger. I hope that one day you're unfortunate enough to experience what that feels like with your own child firsthand. And I hope it never leaves your nightmares.” 

Emily had gone as pale as a sheet with Buck towering over her, his gaze narrowing. “But until then, you just better thank whatever God you believe in that I'm not on your jury.” 

Athena had to bite back a smirk, her hand still on Emily’s upper arm. “Come on,” she tugged Emily away. “Time to get ready to meet your actual jury.” 

Ransone hung back for a second, sharing a quick look of bewilderment with Eddie before refocusing on Buck. “I know I’ve said it already, but—”

“Don’t say it again,” Buck broke into a smile, reaching for Ransone’s arm, but missing. Ransone caught Buck’s hand in his own instead. “Just buy me a beer sometime and visit me while I’m driving myself up the walls out of boredom while I’m off-duty. Then we’re even.” 

“Deal,” Ransone chuckled, letting go of Buck and taking a few steps towards the sliding doors. “Hey,” he called out, turning back around as Eddie began reaching for all of Buck’s belongings on the countertop. “If you ever get too bored… There's a double homicide I need some help solving.”

Buck’s smile widened and he heard Eddie chuckle behind him, muttering something in Spanish. 

“Bring the paperwork over tomorrow, Inspector Lestrade. I’ll… consult.” Buck winked and Ransone barked out a laugh, turning around and jogging away to catch up to Athena and Emily further down the parking lot. 

“Inspector Lestrade?” Eddie snorted, pocketing Buck's phone and LAFD badge. “I know you’re Sherlock in this scenario, but I thought he’d be at least Watson.” 

“Nah,” Buck disagreed, lacing their fingers together. He leaned close enough to Eddie’s ear and murmured. “You’re my Watson.” 

They sealed it with a kiss.