Chapter Text

It wasn’t that Buck hated his birthday.

At least, that was what he told himself.

He just never had much of a reason to celebrate. Instead, it became another day for him to drag himself through and hope he made it to the other side unscathed. With his luck, it was always easier said than done. 

Somehow, every time his birthday rolled around, the universe decided he needed a slap to the face. A reality check. He never fought back and, after a while, came to accept that his birthday would never be anything other than a painful memory. 

So, no, he didn’t hate his birthday. 

His birthday hated him.

***

Since he could remember, Buck’s birthday had never been anything special.

His parents never cared too much for it. Whilst Maddie would get the elaborate parties and a stack of presents, Buck was left with a card from Walmart with the small, white price tag still stuck to the back of it. His presents were never elaborate — a cheap soccer ball that burst after three days or some toy cars that would wobble when he tried to push them across his bedroom floor. 

The only light on his birthday came from Maddie. 

She’d buy him a small cupcake — red velvet, his favourite — and make him a card with tissue paper flowers or hand-drawn balloons. They’d sit on Buck’s bedroom floor, sharing the cupcake between them, and Maddie would hand him a small present. It would be haphazardly wrapped in newspaper, but Buck never minded. 

Tearing off the paper, his face would light up. She’d always get him a book, something his parents never did, about his latest interests — space, sea creatures, even one on unusual diseases. Buck devoured the book over several days and relayed all the information back to Maddie because she listened. 

It didn’t matter that his parents never cared about his birthday; she did. 

Then Maddie left for Boston. 

Buck hadn’t wanted anything to change. Saying goodbye to Maddie was tough, but the fear that everything was going to change overwhelmed him. There was no one to stand between him and his parents, no one to patch up the cuts and grazes he got on a daily basis, and no one to listen to his latest deluge of facts. She might not have been there every day, but he hoped she would be there for his birthday. She’d never missed it.

He awoke the morning of his birthday with fear twisting itself in the pit of his stomach. Sunlight streamed in through the thin curtains. Buck kicked the blankets off his legs and stretched, eyeing the gap in the curtains for any sign of Maddie. 

“Evan!” His mom’s knuckles thumped against his door. “Up!”

“I’m up,” Buck grumbled.

“We have a busy day ahead so you need to get a move on.”

He raised an eyebrow at the closed door. Could it be? Had his parents finally decided to give him the birthday they always gave Maddie? Buck pictured the kitchen table piled high with presents, the balloons looming over him, and the special birthday breakfast his mom always made. Hope bloomed in his chest. 

“I’m coming.”

“Good.”

His mom’s footsteps echoed across the wooden floor outside his room. Buck all but bounced on the tips of his toes, excitement humming through his veins. He remembered all the times she woke Maddie up on her birthday, the way she’d declare it to be a big day for everyone and she had to hurry up. To Buck, although she said busy, she had to mean the same thing. Maybe they had something planned for him. Maybe they were finally giving him the birthday he always craved.

Dressing quickly, Buck made a small attempt to tidy his mop of curls and opened his bedroom door. A mixture of smells wafted through the air and Buck could have sworn he caught a whiff of pancakes. The birthday breakfast. Buck grinned, his heart hammering against his ribcage and joy chasing away the early morning fear. 

He thundered down the stairs and all but skidded into the kitchen with the smile still plastered to his face. His mom stood in front of the stove with her back to the door, a white apron tied around her waist. From where he stood, he couldn’t see what she was cooking, but he was more than certain he could smell pancakes. Buck turned away from his mom and towards the kitchen table where the birthday presents were always kept. 

His heart sank. 

Aside from a small white vase of carnations in the centre of the table, it was empty. There was no mound of presents or rubber balloons attached to colourful ribbons. There wasn’t the usual Walmart card or dollar-store gift, either. 

They’d forgotten completely. The smile melted off his face like butter on top of a pancake and his stomach twisted itself in a massive knot. Buck mentally kicked himself. He should have known better than to get his hopes up that they might finally do something for him. All he could do was cling to the hope that Maddie hadn’t forgotten. She wouldn’t have left him in the lurch.

Buck stepped further into the kitchen and his mom turned away from the stove. He caught sight of the frying pan, but it wasn’t pancakes being cooked. It was eggs for his dad. 

Stupid. You’re so stupid.

His mom looked at him with a raised eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes roamed over the wrinkled hoodie and jeans. Her lips pursed. 

“Do you always have to look like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge, Evan?” 

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“You can sort your own breakfast out. You’re a teenager, not a little boy. Once you’ve eaten, you can take the trash out and then make yourself scarce. This house needs a deep clean and I can’t do that with you underfoot.”

He looked away from her and towards the window that looked outside. Cars drove past in the morning light and every engine rumbling bar caught his attention. One of them could have been Maddie.”

“Evan!” his mother snapped. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, Mom.”

She turned towards the window and then back at him. “Why are you looking out there?”

“I-I thought Maddie might—”

“Maddie?” She waved a dismissive hand towards him. “She’s in Boston. You know that, and she’s not coming back. Last I heard she’d gone off on vacation with Doug.”

Buck’s chest clenched, sucking all the air out of his chest like a vacuum. She wasn’t coming. The one person he thought would be there for his birthday, who had always been there for his birthday, wasn’t coming. Maddie was gone and his parents didn’t care enough to remember his birthday. 

The door opened and Buck’s dad walked in, a stack of envelopes clutched in his hands. Buck felt a small slither of hope bloom in his chest. If Maddie couldn’t be there, maybe she sent a card or present in the mail. His dad dropped the envelopes onto the table and walked away, not acknowledging him for even a second. Buck took a few quick steps towards it and thumbed through them. 

Nothing.

The slither of hope died. No card, no book, just bills and leaflets addressed to his parents. His birthday had been forgotten by everyone, including the one person he thought would always be there for him.

To everyone else, it was just another day. To Buck, it was like the world had been pulled out from under his feet. It hurt to breathe, the entire room lurched on its axis and his head swam. A low buzzing filled his ears, broken only by his mom’s sharp tone.

“Eat your breakfast and go outside, Evan. I won’t tell you again.”

Buck scrambled into the kitchen and made himself a bowl of cereal. The cornflakes tasted like cardboard and stuck to the back of his throat. He managed to choke his breakfast down, the milk doing little to help, before he stumbled out of the house and into the front yard. 

The cereal churned in his stomach, his breathing growing more laboured and sweat beading on his forehead in the morning Hershey sun. He dropped to his knees on the emerald green grass. Buck’s fingers twisted into the fabric of his hoodie, tugging it away from his neck. The fabric scratched against his skin, the label felt like it was piercing his neck, and the whole thing felt more constricting than it had when he put it on. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and took the deepest breath he could manage. 

How could she forget? Was she too busy with Doug to remember? Did she care about Doug more than him? Maddie had always been there for him. She’d been there when their parents hadn’t cared enough, but she’d forgotten him too. He didn’t have anyone who cared, not anymore. 

Buck took another shaky breath and opened his eyes. They focused on a large oak tree at the edge of their property, one with towering, twisting branches and plenty of footholes. A memory bloomed in his mind. A memory of falling from his skateboard and breaking his arm. A memory of his mom paying attention to him when he was hurt. 

He smiled.

Pushing himself to his feet, Buck didn’t waste a single second. He crossed the grass in long strides and looked up at the tree, planning the route. Without another thought, Buck grabbed onto one of the tree's many knots and began to climb. 

His fingers fumbled for holds in the trunk, the bark digging into his skin. Small twigs and dirt crumbled from the tree, but he kept climbing. Buck grabbed onto the larger branches, pulling himself higher into the thicket of green leaves. He pulled himself onto a thick branch, his feet slipping on the surface. 

Slowly, Buck shuffled himself along the branch. His sneakers caught on the uneven bark, some of it breaking off and crumbling to the ground. Glancing down at the grass, his heart hammered against his ribcage. Sweat trickled down his face.

If they weren’t going to pay attention to him, he’d give them a reason to. 

Buck inhaled sharply. 

His fingers twitched on the branch above his head. 

He closed his eyes. 

And he stepped off. 

He fell for an eternity, the wind roaring past his ears and the row of clean-cut, suburban houses blurring together. 

Buck’s right foot slammed into the ground first, pain flaring through his leg and his ankle rolling to the side. The rest of his body hit the ground seconds later. The soft grass tickled his cheek. Blood filled his mouth, the metallic taste almost comforting. 

Pain washed over his entire body, each nerve screaming at him. The same buzzing from before filled his ears, as though he was about to be attacked by a swarm of bees. 

The pain was a bitter reminder of how little anyone cared about him, and Buck resolved to never get his hopes up again.

***

For years, he never mentioned his birthday to anyone. 

He made it through High School, got kicked out of college, and left Hershey in Maddie’s jeep without anyone ever mentioning it. Travelling the country made it easier to move on. He never got close enough to anyone for them to ask, he preferred to never mention it to them unprompted. Buck worked through the day and went out in the evening drinking until he couldn’t remember why he went out in the first place. 

It turned into another day for him to cross off the calendar and he always breathed a small sigh of relief when it was over. His only real acknowledgement of the day was writing it down on his job applications. Buck made sure it stayed on the application forms and never made it to those he worked with, which was easier said than done. 

He’d been working with the 118 for a few months before anyone mentioned it. 

“I need ideas for Karen’s birthday,” Hen said, peering over the top of her phone. “Any thoughts?”

“Bubble bath.”

She turned to look at Chimney with a small arch of her eyebrow. “Are you saying my wife smells?”

“No!” Chimney’s eyes widened, panic spreading across his face. He placed his empty coffee mug on the kitchen counter and approached her. “Everyone loves bubble baths.”

“He’s not wrong,” Buck said, tearing his eyes away from the video game.

“I’m not getting her bubble bath.”

“It’s a good idea!”

“It’s really not.”

“You’re no fun.” Chimney shook his head and approached Buck. “Speaking of birthdays—” He punched him lightly in the arm. “—when’s yours? We like to get a cake in and do a bit of celebrating, but you haven’t told us anything.”

“I’m not big on the whole birthday thing.” Buck paused the game. His hands shook at the mention of his birthday.

Chimney blinked more than any man should in thirty seconds. “You? Mr-I-live-in-a-frat house doesn’t do birthdays? Yeah, nice try Buck.”

“It’s true.” Buck shrugged his shoulders, exiting out of the game and placing the controller on the table. “I’ve never really been big on it.”

Before Chimney could speak, the tones echoed through the firehouse and Buck had never been more grateful to hear them. He scurried off the couch and down the stairs before anyone else had even moved. Buck couldn’t blame for being curious, but he wished Chimney didn’t have to probe as much as he did. 

“I’ll find out sooner or later, Buck,” Chimney said when he climbed into the engine. 

Buck didn’t say anything. He clenched his hands into fists to hide the slight trembling in his fingers at the mention of his birthday. It had already been on his mind, knowing the date was creeping closer and closer. His birthday fell at the end of the week — on a shift day so he had plenty of distractions available. 

The last thing he wanted was for the 118 to find out.

Chimney didn’t mention his birthday again. Buck assumed it had something to do with Hen, but he couldn’t be certain. He was, however, grateful. It took away some of the added pressure, but it didn’t make the day any easier to deal with when it finally did roll around. 

He awoke the morning of his birthday two hours before his shift was due to start with his stomach tying itself into the all-too-familiar knot. The monthly calendar he kept in his room stared at him when he dressed and Buck could only just manage to swallow down some breakfast, though he worried he wouldn’t be able to keep it down. He felt like he was sitting on a knife edge.

Buck reached the station and changed into his uniform, the knot pulling itself tighter in his stomach. His breakfast churned violently. Throwing himself into chores around the firehouse, Buck did his best to distract himself from the day. He was partway through mopping the floors when Bobby found him — the only person who knew his birth date since it was scrawled in his file.

“Buck? You okay, kid?”

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“I overheard a conversation between Hen and Chim the other day, I just wanted to check in with you.”

Buck tightened his grip on the mop handle. “It’s all good, Bobby. Swear.”

“Right.” Bobby cleared his throat, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Well, you know where to find me if you want to chat.”

“Sure thing.”

Bobby nodded and walked away, his footsteps echoing across the floor. Buck exhaled sharply, his heart thudding against his chest. Although he didn’t say anything about Buck’s birthday, Bobby knew something was going on even if the words never left his lips. He knew what that day was, he knew Buck was hiding the truth from the others. He knew what that day was. 

When the tones sounded, Buck was desperate to escape the confines of the firehouse. He threw himself into calls and thanked the universe for giving him the distraction he desperately needed. The hours ticked away. Each tick of the clock allowed the knot in his stomach to unravel that little bit more, to free him from the day he dreaded each year. 

He could get through it. 

He could make it to midnight, leave the day behind him, and be glad he had another three-hundred-sixty-five days until the next one. Twelve hours ticked to eleven, dropping further and further down until the tension melted out of his shoulders like the wax trickling down a candle. 

Buck checked the time on his phone. Seven in the evening. Just four hours to go. He perched on the edge of the couch, one leg bouncing and his eyes staring at the television screen unfocused. 

Four hours. 

The tones screamed out. 

He followed the rest of the crew away from the loft and into the rig, draping his turnout coat over his shoulders. Darkness settled itself over the city. The knot in his stomach tightened. 

“What are we looking at?” Bobby said into the radio.

“Multiple civilians trapped on a rollercoaster, one reported to have been thrown. No current update on his condition.” 

“Copy that.” 

Buck glanced at Hen and Chim who wore grim expressions, no doubt going through every possible injury the person thrown could have picked up. Very few people would survive a fall like that. When they reached the scene, the ambulance came to a stop and they scrambled off. Bobby and Buck headed for the ladder.

“Buck, we came in at the wrong angle,” Bobby said. “I’m gonna have you climb up there, harness him in, and hang tight while we move the truck. You think you can handle that?”

Buck glanced over his shoulder, looking at the person hanging upside down, their hands gripping the roller coaster seat. “Hell yeah. This daredevil hero stuff is what I signed up for, Bobby.”

“Good.”

Moving quickly, Buck began the climb up the ladder. The metal was cold against his palms, the air warm. A woman cried above him and Buck sped up, looking up at the upside-down roller coaster and the people still buckled into their seats. 

“Help us! Please!” one of them said. Even in the dark, Buck could see her white knuckles against the metal bar across her stomach.

“Everybody try to stay calm,” he said, putting as much power into his words as he could. “We’ll get you down, I promise, all right?” The ladder moved beneath him, pushing him closer to the rollercoaster. “I need you to relax, I need you to breathe, and I need you to keep as still as possible. You move less, you stay safe. We get everyone off this ride safe.”

Buck moved onto the tracks of the roller coaster, gripping it tightly and glad for the harness around his waist. The man hanging from the coaster groaned, his face contorted into fear and pain from having to take his own weight.

“Hey, what’s your name, man?” he called, heading up towards the person.

“Devon.”

“Devon. All right, Devon. Well, hang on brother.”

Devon sobbed, the sound echoing through the evening air. “Where’s Chad?” What happened to Chad?”

Buck continued to move towards them, fumbling for his radio and pressing the button. “Hey, Bobby, he’s asking about his friend.”

Bobby’s voice crackled over his radio. “Chimney, it’s Captain, you copy?”

“Copy, Captain,” Chimney said. “What do you need?”

“How’s the kid on the ground?”

“We lost him.”

Buck’s heart sank to the pit of his stomach, but he kept climbing. Losing people on a call was never easy, even when they knew their chance of survival was slim. It didn’t make it any easier. All Buck could do was focus on getting everyone else off the rollercoaster and back on the ground. One fatality was one too many and he needed to get through the day without anyone else getting hurt. 

His radio crackled. 

“All right, I don’t need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor. He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill.”

“Copy that.”

The radio fell silent and Buck kept moving. He ignored the people below with their cameras out, no doubt pointed towards him and did his best not to look down. He inched his way closer to the civilians, almost crawling across the metal with the harness digging into his stomach. The closer he got, the better he could see the fear etched onto their faces. 

“Hang in there guys, We’re coming.” Buck cringed at his own words. “I’m almost there.”

“What happened to Chad?” Devon cried, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the effort to hold himself up. “He’s dead isn’t he?”

“Hey, Devon, look at me. Chad .. He’s getting help. You see? He’s going to be fine. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, all right?”

Devon glanced down to the ground where Hen and Chimney were doing their best to make it seem like Chad was still alive. Buck crawled closer to them until he was on top of the overturned cart, his fingers gripping the metal track. 

“Is everyone okay?” he asked.

“No, we’re not okay!” one of the women screamed. She gestured to the ground. “Why is the firetruck going away?”

Buck looked down and spotted the truck driving off. “It’s just getting into a better position, that’s all.” He clung to the side of the track. “Devon, how are we doing?”

“It’s gonna be everywhere.” Devon’s words were garbled. “It’s gonna be everywhere.”

“Forget about them, okay?” Buck narrowed his eyes at the people standing around with their phones. All of them filming a desperate situation without caring for those involved. “You don’t look down. You look up at me.” Buck grabbed the spare harness. “You see this strap here? All you got to do is reach up your arm, slide it through the loop.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can, buddy. You can do it. Come on.”

“Can you tell them to stop recording, please?” Devon begged. “I don’t want everyone to see me like this.”

Buck could hear the pain laced into his words. “Listen, Devon. I need you to concentrate. Slide your arm through the loop … and then we can deal with everything else. 

Devon didn’t move. His grip on the rollercoaster remained iron-tight, his eyes still glued to the ground and the people filming. Buck readjusted his position on the rails so he could lean down, stretching his arm out towards Devon.

“All right. Hey. Reach up your hand, come on. It’s like three inches. You can do this. I got you.”

Devon looked up at him but didn’t move. 

“Devon. Devon, I need you to trust me.” Buck panted, his left arm squeezing the metal rail with as much strength as he could. “Give me your hand. I will not let you go.”

Devon eyed Buck’s hand, his arms still squeezing the roller coaster. Sweat covered his face despite the cool air. “I can’t.” He spoke with a whisper, the words barely reaching Buck’s ears.

“Devon,” Buck said, “Devon, please.”

It only took a second.

One second Devon was there, face shining with sweat, tears streaming down his cheeks, and in another, he was gone. Falling through the sky. 

All Buck could do was watch.

His breath caught in his chest, the knot in his stomach pulling itself so tight it became painful. 

Buck’s watch buzzed against the cold skin of his wrist. 

Another hour gone. 

Three left. 

Devon stared up at him from the ground, his eyes blank and glassy under the bright lights.

***

Buck might have agreed to take care of Chris, he might have made the decision to drag himself from the comfort of his apartment to do something fun, but that didn’t mean the knot in his stomach untangled. If anything, it just pulled that little bit tighter. 

He wanted to enjoy himself, really he did. Spending his birthday with Chris — even if Chris didn’t know it was his birthday — sounded better than burying himself beneath his blankets, but it came with a fear he couldn’t shake. The blankets offered him safety from whatever the universe had planned and Buck knew he would be safe. Outside, away from that safety, everything was a threat. 

Chris was oblivious to the fear and Buck envied him. He envied the laughter that spilled from his mouth so effortlessly, the way he moved through the day without a care in the world, and how he wasn’t glancing over his shoulder at every slight noise.

Despite the fear deeply rooted in Buck’s bones, he found himself beginning to relax as the morning went on. Chris’ laughter untangled some of the knots and his overwhelming joy became infectious. He offered Buck a reprieve from his spiraling mind without even knowing it. They ate pancakes, played games, and laughed like the weight of the world wasn’t pressing against Buck’s shoulders.

For a brief second, a small blip in the day, Buck thought he had found a birthday he could enjoy. Pancakes and games were all he ever dreamed of. Beneath the burning L.A. sun with Chris by his side, he felt untouchable. Free. 

He should have known better. 

Reality came smashing into him in the form of an ice-cold wave and a swirling vortex of rubble and debris. It sliced into his skin, bruised his ribs, and screamed at him beneath the churning water. He couldn’t escape it. He couldn’t fight it. 

He couldn’t breathe.

When he finally broke through the wall of water, coughing and spluttering, there was only one thing on his mind.

“Chris!” The name ripped from his throat, his head moving on a swivel to try to spot him. “Chris!”

“Buck!” A small cry broke through the sound of rushing water, cutting through the buzz in his ears. 

He turned, catching sight of Chris clinging onto a streetlight, his small arms gripping it with all the strength he could muster. His glasses rested on his face, and he looked unharmed despite the turmoil. Relief flooded Buck’s chest. Ignoring the constant throbbing in his body, Buck pushed through the water to reach him, pulling him into a hug. 

“I’ve got you, buddy.” He squeezed him tightly, their wet shirts clinging to their bodies. “We’ll be okay.”

Through the water, Buck spotted the familiar bright red of an engine drifting slowly and cutting through the constantly moving debris. He tightened his grip on Chris’ shirt, pulling him through the water and towards the truck. Strength surged through his body. Buck helped Chris onto the roof of the engine with little trouble, but his arms shook when he forced himself over the small lip onto the wet metal.

He pushed himself up and looked at Chris who sat himself against the edge of the engine. His curls were damp and plastered to his forehead, mud and other gunk covered his striped shirt. Buck noticed a small scratch on his arm, but that was the extent of it. 

“You good Chris?” Buck asked, pushing Chris’ curls back.

“Yep.” He grinned. “I took surfing lessons.”

Buck laughed in spite of himself. “Oh, well, maybe you can teach me.” He glanced around him. “I guess we’re gonna have to hang out here a little longer.”

“We have a firetruck!”

“Yeah, we do.”

“Help!” A shrill scream cut through the running water. “Help me!”

Scanning their surroundings, Buck caught sight of the woman trapped by a large piece of debris carried inland by the water. “I’ll help! I … I’m gonna come for you!”

“Help!”

“Okay, okay.” Buck raked a hand through his damp hair. “Chris, um, I … I need you to sit right here for me. You promise me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, right here. Right here.”

Certain that Chris would do as he was asked, Buck dived back into the water and dragged his bruised body towards the woman. He might not have been allowed back to work just yet, but he wasn’t going to let anyone suffer when he could have helped them. Buck ignored his screaming muscles, pushed through the stinging cuts on his arms, and did his best to forget the dark spots clouding his vision.

For the better part of an hour, Buck swam back and forth through the murky tsunami water. He helped people off of floating beams of wood, tended to the bumps and scrapes people picked up in the water, and rescued over fifteen people. He was exhausted. His chest burned, his arms and legs burned, and Buck knew that the blood pouring from the numerous cuts and scrapes covering his body wasn’t a good sign. 

He settled himself into the engine with Chris, using strips of his shirt to bandage up the cuts. Their morning on the pier felt like a lifetime ago. Buck should have known better than to think he could have a birthday free from pain and torment.

“Okay,” Buck said, “I spy with my little eye, something that moves people around.”

“Um…” Chris glanced around them and then sat up, a gleam in his eye. “Oh! A scooter!”

“Ah, yeah. Nice one. Okay, genius. Your turn.”

“I spy a shopping cart!”

“What? No, come one!” Buck laughed. “Hey, that’s not how the game works. You can’t just yell stuff out.”

“But yelling stuff out is the fun part!”

“You amaze me, buddy.”

“Why?”

“I got some bad news at work the other day, and I didn’t want to get out of bed for a whole week. But you, after the day you had, here you are with a big smile, bustin’ a gut.” He laughed. “You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept swimming.”

“Like Dory.”

“Yeah, like Dory.” Buck looked at the kid in amazement. “And not just today. You know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain. How—” The words caught in his throat. “—how do you do that?”

“Well, I complained once, but it didn’t work.”

“So what did you do?”

“Just kept swimming.”

Buck nodded, his heart squeezing like a vice at the innocence of Chris’ comment. “Like Dory.”

He looked over Chris’ head, staring at the still-flowing water rushing around them. Something caught his attention. A body. Buck scrambled out of his position beside Chris and sat in front of him, pulling his attention away from the water and towards him.

“I … I spy with my little eye, something that is high.” Buck tilted Chris's face upwards and away from the sight around them.

“A street sign?”

“Uh, higher … higher than that.”

Buch pointed further up, keeping Chris’ eyes directed away and distracted long enough for the bodies to float past the engine. 

The sun beat down on him, his face no doubt burnt and the cuts on his arms were bleeding through the fabric of his shirt. Buck and Chris stayed on the engine. They played games with the other people on the engine, distracting both Chris and themselves from the horror they found themselves surrounded by. The knot in Buck’s stomach remained tight. 

The hours kept ticking by. 

An alarm screamed out. 

Buck grabbed Chris, watching the sudden surge of water and the debris rushing towards the engine. Nearby, someone screamed. Something large slammed into the side of the engine, knocking it sideways, and flinging Buck away from Chris. His hands grabbed out to find his shirt. They came up empty.

Water splashed over the rocking engine. 

Buck groped around, hoping to find Chris, but all he could grab was the empty air around him. When the engine stopped moving and the water calmed down, Buck sat up. He pushed the spray from his face.

“Christopher?” The spot beside him was empty. “Christopher!”

He scrambled to his feet, head spinning around. 

Resting near his feet, standing out against the dark metal of the engine roof, sat Chris’ glass. Buck grabbed them. “No.” His fingers shook. “Christopher! Christopher!”

Only silence greeted him.

Chris was gone.

The knot in his stomach squeezed and Buck dropped to his knees, vomiting water and bile over the side of the engine. No. No. It couldn’t be happening. 

He couldn’t have lost Chris. 

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

Eddie would never forgive him and Buck would never forgive himself.

He had to find him.

Ignoring the screaming in his body, Buck plunged into the water and dragged himself through until it retreated enough for him to walk. He forgot about the blood staining the white fabric around his arms, ignored the burning in his lungs, and blinked back the dark spots threatening to send him plunging to the ground.

“Has anyone seen a boy in the water?” He repeated the words like a mantra. “He’s got brown hair and a yellow T-shirt.”

The response was always the same.

“No.”

Buck didn’t stop. He staggered and stumbled his way through the debris and destruction left behind by the surging water. The mantra fell from his lips, the constant rejection making his head hurt. His bad leg ached, but he couldn’t stop.

He had to keep going.

For Chris. 

The sun gave way to an imposing darkness. Buck didn’t stop. He stopped at one of the hospitals, asked the same questions he’d been asking all afternoon, and was met with the same answer. No one had seen Chris. No one had a record of him. He was just gone.

Buck didn’t know what time it was when he reached the VA Command Center. His whole body ached, his mind spun, and his chest burned, but he needed to find Chris. He had to find him.

“Buck?” A familiar voice cut through the chaos of people and ambulances moving around him. “Are you okay?” Eddie appeared in front of him, blurred and out of focus, but Buck would recognise him anywhere. “Wait, where’s Christopher?”

“Eddie…” Buck’s voice was raw from the screaming, and weak from the exhaustion.

“Why do you have his glasses?”

“We, um…” Buck choked on the words. “Me and Chris, we were … at the beach, and … um … and listen to me, okay? I swear to you … okay, I tried …” The ground moved beneath his feet. “And I just … but I ... Eddie, I don’t know how to say it. He … he just… he—” Buck fought back a sob. “—he just vanished.”

Eddie looked at him, tears forming in his eyes. Buck couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t meet his eyes, he couldn’t stand to see the hatred building. 

“Christopher?” Eddie looked past Buck. “Christopher?”

“Dad!”

“Oh, my God!”

A low buzzing filled Buck’s ears. He tilted his head up, watching Eddie move past him and towards a woman who carried a familiar shape in her arms. Relief flooded Buck’s chest. The ground gave an almighty lurch beneath him. A smile appeared on his face; he’d almost forgotten what it was like to smile.

“Buck, what happened to you?” Chimney stepped forward and grabbed Buck’s arms.

“Hey,” Bobby said, his voice calm amongst the chaos in Buck’s mind. He frowned and looked over his shoulder, watching Eddie who cradled Chris tightly. “You two okay?”

“Yeah, we’re great.”

The ground gave out and Buck tipped forward, his vision blurring. Someone grabbed him, helping him down to the floor. An arm wrapped around his chest and Buck gripped onto it with the last bit of strength he had left to muster. 

His eyes focused on the metal watch poking out of Hen’s turnout coat, the hands still moving.

Ten past twelve. 

He’d made it to midnight. 

Finally.

His birthday was over and Chris was safe. 

It was over.

***

He should have called in sick. 

The thought had crossed his mind when he woke with a groan earlier that morning. His eyes had focused on the date, the familiar knot twisting itself up in his stomach. Buck’s fingers drifted over his text messages. He’d pulled up Bobby’s contact, fingertips dancing across the keyboard. 

But he didn’t do it. It wouldn’t be fair to the team to leave them a person down for no reason other than his need to hide himself away beneath his blankets until the clock hit midnight. No one would blame him for calling out, he knew that, but he still couldn’t bring himself to do it. So, he dressed, choked down some breakfast, and headed to the station.

Buck wasn’t going to jinx it by asking for a slow day. He knew better than that. Instead, he prepared himself for whatever they might throw at him with the intention of hanging back on calls that could go wrong. The morning passed quickly — small, bearable calls that Buck could get through without any problems.

Then they were dispatched to a prison riot. 

He couldn’t hang back even if he wanted to; it was all hands on deck even if those hands were trembling at what could happen. His mind spun through every possible scenario — getting trapped inside, getting shot, someone else getting shot — and he couldn’t turn the thoughts off. They kept spinning, the knot in his stomach squeezing. 

Transporting an inmate with two armed guards certainly didn’t sound like fun, but Buck was just glad to be out of the prison. He drove the ambulance with Eddie in the back, a guard to his right and the prison behind them in the dust. His shoulders relaxed a little.

The radio crackled.

“Buck, Eddie, come in.” Bobby’s voice echoed through the cab of the ambulance. 

Buck reached for the radio, his fingers brushing against the cold plastic. The guard beside him shifted, pulling his gun from his pocket and aiming it towards him, his finger resting on the trigger. He shook his head.

The radio crackled again. “Buck, Eddie, if you can hear me, return to the prison. Come—”

Bobby’s voice fell silent.

“Kill the lights and sirens.”

Buck did as he was asked, fear pooling in the pit of his stomach. Eddie muttered something in the back that Buck couldn’t make out. He did his best to ignore the gun, curling his fingers around the steering wheel and continuing along the road until the fake guard gestured for him to pull over. Doing what he was told, Buck killed the engine and climbed out, the gun still pointed at him.

He approached the back of the ambulance where Eddie scrambled out with the other fake-guard, a gun also aimed at him. The patient — whoever they might have been — stayed in the back. Eddie and Buck exchanged glances, Eddie’s face appearing more annoyed than anything else. 

“Check ‘em.”

One of the fake guards approached them and began patting down Buck’s pockets. He grabbed the radio and threw it onto the ground.

“Okay, so you broke out,” Eddie said. “What now? Patient in there is currently fighting for every breath. That your handiwork?”

The fake guard stayed silent. Buck watched him bite into an apple as the other one started to strip Eddie of his radio and whatever else he had tucked away in his pockets. He pulled out a wallet from the turnout coat Eddie was wearing — Buck’s wallet. Somehow they’d ended up with each other's turnout coats. He moved back to Buck and grabbed his phone before heading back to the ambulance.

“So, what do we do?” Buck muttered, leaning close to Eddie.

“Don’t know yet.”

“Maybe they just want the ambulance?”

“Why would they search us if they’re going to leave us behind?” He raised an eyebrow. “There’s two of us. There’s two of them. There’s two—”

“—Cute kid.” The man who ate the apple held up a small, square picture of Chris. “Yours?” He looks at Eddie. “I’m guessing he lives with you at 4995 South Bedford Street.”

Buck stepped forward, anger surging through him. “Hey, man—”

The butt of one of the guns smashed into the side of his head, knocking Buck off balance, blood trickling from the small wound. He staggered back to Eddie with his ears ringing, his eyes streaming, and his head aching.

“Okay,” the other one said, “so now that we’re all on the same page, here’s what’s gonna happen next.”

Buck wiped the blood from his face, not listening to a word of it. The knot in his stomach pulled tighter. Eddie grabbed him by his arm and the two of them climbed into the back of the ambulance with the patient, the one who hit him taking the driver's seat whilst the other sat in the back with them. The ambulance pulled away from the side of the road, and Eddie immediately went into medic mode. 

He grabbed his penlight and checked the patient's throat, blood bubbling up from his mouth. 

“Is he all right?”

Eddie glanced up. “Other than choking on his own blood?” He glanced to his right. “Buck, hand me the Yankauer suction tube.”

Buck kept his eyes on the gunman, grabbing the tube and handing it over. Despite wanting to stay as calm as Eddie, fear wrapped itself around his stomach. He should have called in sick. Why didn’t he call in sick?

If he’d called in sick, Eddie would have been alone. 

That’s why he didn’t call in.

He wasn’t going to leave Eddie in the lurch.

“Hey, just make sure he doesn’t die in here.”

“Suddenly you care about the guy you almost beat to death?” Buck said, helping Eddie and slowly tilting his head towards the gunman.

“Hey, if I wanted him dead, he’d be dead. I kept him alive.” He waved the gun around. “Now, you do the same.”

Eddie and Buck exchanged looks but did what they could. The knock to Buck’s head throbbed painfully, his vision dipping in and out and his stomach churning with each bump in the road. He tried not to let it show on his face. His bad leg ached from all the sitting down, his muscles screaming at him to move.

Darkness fell around them and Buck found himself counting down the hours he had left, waiting for that inevitable moment the clock struck twelve and he could leave the day in the past. He wanted to say goodbye to it once and for all.

The patient on the gurney remained still, but Buck could hear the small, raspy breaths slipping through his partially opened lips. Buck glanced at the gunman who still had it pointed towards them, watching them both curiously. Beside him, Eddie moved. He grabbed one of the laryngoscope blades and tilted the man’s head back.

“What are you doing now?” the gunman asked.

“Intubating him.” Eddie glanced at Buck. “Buck, hand me the bougie. Long blue tube in the cabinet.”

Buck leant over and opened the cabinet, grabbing the tube but keeping his eyes firmly focused on the man with the gun. Dark spots crowded his vision at the moment of his head, but he ignored it. He had to focus.

“Almost there, Mitch,” the man driving said.

Peering through one of the ambulance windows, Buck watched the red EMERGENCY sign come into focus. “Wait, you guys are serious? We’re really going to a hospital?”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Thought that’s what you wanted. You’re so concerned about the health of your friend here. Now you can walk him through the front doors.”

Buck’s heart hammered against his ribcage, blood roaring in his ears. The ambulance rounded a corner and came to an abrupt stop. From inside the rig, he listened to the driver open the cab door and climb out. The door slammed shut and seconds later, the double doors at the back of the ambulance swung open to reveal the driver. 

“Doesn’t look like we have any company.” 

“All right, pretty boy stays with me.” He gestured to Eddie. “Domm, you and the kid take our friend inside. Hand him off, then you know what to do.”

“Hey, man, listen, I don’t know what you want, but there is a hospital full of sick people…”

“Just go, or I’ll shoot you.” Mitch looked at Eddie. “Or better yet, I shoot him. And then I find his kid, and I shoot him too.”

“Buck.” Eddie’s tone was clipped and measured, almost warning him.

Their eyes met and Buck knew he didn’t have much choice. He looked over to Dom who grinned menacingly, his skin almost stretching into the smile. Taking a small, shaky breath, Buck stood up. The ground moved a little beneath him and his bad leg ached. With one last look at Eddie, he climbed out of the rig and tugged the gurney after him, lowering it onto the asphalt.

His heart hammered in his chest. Dom grabbed the other side of the gurney.

“Nice and steady. Just like you’ve done it a thousand times before.”

They rolled into the ambulance entrance of the ER, Buck keeping a grip on the bag to make sure the guy on the gurney was still breathing. The doors to the ER rolled open and Buck was hit by the surprising silence of the room.

“Where do we go?” Dom asked.

“Right this way.”

Buck rolled the gurney through a set of double doors with a loud bang and the still silence continued. He turned away from Dom and frowned. Hope bloomed in his chest that they knew they were coming and were prepared to meet them. Eddie wouldn’t have to be alone with Mitch for much longer. Glancing up to the clock, Buck watched the hands tick to signal the end of another hour. 

“Where the hell is everyone?” Dom said. 

Buck barely had time to think.

Uniformed officers descended on them, grabbing Dom and pulling him away from the gurney. Someone else grabbed Buck. They tugged him to the ground, planting his cheek against the cold linoleum and pinning his arms behind his back.

“Come on, hey! I-I’m a firefighter,” he said, his words garbled by the floor.

“Hands behind your back.”

“Evan Buckley with the 118.”

Buck did his best to get himself out of the grip of the officers, but the knock to the head blurred his vision and spending all day sitting in the back of the ambulance had left his limbs feeling like lead. The offers pinned him, but a familiar voice cut through the chaos. 

“Buck?” Footsteps crossed the linoleum. “Buck. Hey. This one’s good. Let him up. Let him go.”

The officers released Buck’s arms and backed off, with one of them grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet. Buck groaned, his ribs aching from hitting the floor, and a small headache drumming behind his eyes. He rolled his shoulders turning his head with enough time to watch the officers hauling Dom off. Athena looked at him.

“You good?”

“Yeah. How’d you know we were coming here?” Buck asked.

“We figured out why Mitchell broke out,” Athena said. “Where is he? Where’s Mitchell?”

“Still in the ambulance.” Buck’s blood ran cold. “With Eddie.”

Athena pressed her lips into a thin line and walked off, leaving Buck in the ER. He knotted his hands together, the muscles in his leg throbbing along with his ribs and the headache growing worse under the bright lights. Buck paced, trying to keep himself busy and distracted, but he needed to know how Eddie was. 

He glanced at the clock. Another fifteen minutes ticked by.

“Tact team is working on a plan to take the ambulance,” Athena said, reappearing.

“Look, as soon as they make their move, he is gonna shoot Eddie. There’s got to be a way to talk him down, get him to surrender.”

She shook her head. “It’s a little more complicated than that, Buck. Surrender is not what Mitchell’s after. He came to see his son.”

Buck didn’t care. He didn’t care about Mitchell’s reasons, he didn’t care about anything other than making sure Eddie made it out of that ambulance and made it through the next few hours unscathed. That was all he needed. He’d already lost too many people on his birthday, he wasn’t about to add Eddie to that list. Not if he could help it. 

The headache grew, but Buck brushed off the suggestions of help. He paced through the ER to loosen the muscles in his leg. Sirens wailed outside, the room filled with the blue and red flashing lights that Buck always found somewhat comforting. This time, they put him on edge. If they did something wrong or moved too quickly, Eddie was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Athena stayed nearby, her radio buzzing and filling the air with static or low voices. From deep in her pocket, her cell phone rang. 

“Bobby,” she said, sighing softly. “Everyone okay?”

“Everybody here is fine.” Bobby’s voice drifted through the phone and Buck felt the knot in his stomach relax. “Just dropped off the injured guard at the hospital. How are Buck and Eddie doing?”

“Buck’s fine. I’m standing right here with him.”

“What about Eddie?”

Athena turned away, the rest of her conversation falling on Buck’s deaf ears. He focused on the clock, watching the hands tick by. Time slipped through his fingers like sand. Buck wanted to welcome the fast-moving time, and be glad that the day was almost over, but Eddie was still trapped with Mitch. Eddie was still in danger. 

He needed to know Eddie was safe.

Buck stood in the ER, waiting. All he could do was wait. The dark spots continued to dance in front of his eyes, his head pounding, but he waited. 

Then.

A gunshot. 

“Eddie.”

He didn’t even think.

He didn’t pause.

He just ran.

Buck sprinted through the hall and out through the doors he rolled through with Dom. His feet slipped on the asphalt. “Eddie! Eddie!”

Reaching the ambulance, Buck breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Eddie still breathing, but performing CPR on Mitch. He looked at Buck, unhurt. 

“Go grab a crash cart and help me keep his heart pumping.”

“What … what are you doing? What happened?”

“He shot himself. Bullet hit his brain. Go tell the hospital they need a crash team out here. They need to prep and OR.”

“Eddie, he’s dead.”

“But his heart isn’t, and I need it to stay that way.” He narrowed his eyes at Buck. “Go!”

Buck didn’t want to go, but he could see the determination in Eddie’s eyes, so he did what he was asked. He sprinted away, heading back into the ER with Eddie’s instructions running through his mind.

Eddie was alive. 

He was alive. 

Buck hadn’t lost him.

The clock ticked on.

***

Bobby was in the hospital, Christopher had reached out to Eddie’s parents, Eddie was a mess, and Buck was trying to keep it all together. 

The chaos had started before the clock had ticked past midnight and his birthday really began. Buck had awoken the morning before to a panicked text message from Eddie and rushed over thinking someone was hurt, only to find out that Chris had caught Eddie with Kim and the whole sordid secret had been revealed to a thirteen-year-old boy who still struggled to accept the death of his mother. 

Then Eddie’s parents showed up. 

Buck had watched the way Eddie’s face paled, the small gulp of air he took before he spoke to them, and the way his hands trembled over the door handle when he let them in. Eddie hadn’t spoken of his parents, not really, but watching Eddie’s reactions told him all he needed to know. He wanted to talk to Chris and try to explain things, but he didn’t get the chance. A text interrupted him.

Bobby was in the hospital and the world dropped out from under him. His mentor, the man he’d looked up to for years, was in critical condition in a hospital bed after a suspected arson attack and they didn’t know if he was going to make it. Buck could have screamed. 

He wanted to know why the universe was punishing him, pushing him to the brink year in and year out and barely offering him a moment to breathe.

Until it offered a slither of reprieve, a small opportunity for the world to settle back to normal. Bobby was going to make it. He’d come through the worst of it, stumbled through to the other side, and the cold hand of death hadn’t touched him.

But there was still Christopher. 

The morning of his birthday, Buck woke with the familiar knot in his stomach and an uneasy feeling settling in his bones. He dragged himself into the shower and dressed, deciding to forgo breakfast out of fear it would make a reappearance. Nausea swirled around in his stomach and Buck spent the drive to Eddie’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Eddie opened the door to his house with dark bags clinging to his under eyes and his skin pale and clammy in the morning light. Buck’s heart sunk to his stomach. His parents weren’t there, which Buck was grateful for. 

“What’s going on?” Buck asked softly, dropping onto Eddie’s couch and resting his forearms on his knees. 

“Christopher—” Eddie’s voice shook when he spoke and he inhaled sharply. “—he called my parents to ask them to come and get him. To take him to Texas.”

Buck’s chest squeezed, the air disappearing from his lungs in seconds. He pressed his hands together, letting the crescent shape of his nails embed themselves in his skin. There was nothing Buck could say to help. No words of wisdom, or offers of sympathy. Just silence. 

“Can … can you talk to him? He still won’t talk to me. I … I just need him to know I’m sorry.

“I can try.” Buck nodded. “Where is he?”

“In his room.”

Buck stood up, glancing at the nail marks pressed in his hands. He glanced at Eddie, the pain evident on his face. Eddie couldn’t lose his son. Not like this, not after everything.

Every step towards Chris’ room felt like it took twice as long as normal. His footsteps echoed across the floor and Buck’s heartbeat screamed in his ears. The knot in his stomach twisted itself, contorting itself tighter and tighter. Reaching Chris’ door, Buck raised his fists and knocked gently, not waiting for a reply before he stepped into the teenager's room.

Chris sat on the edge of his bed, stuffing things into his blue backpack. He looked at Buck, the childish innocence Buck had come to expect all but erased. Sat before him was a hardened teenager who had been hurt too many times.

“Hey,” Buck said.

Glancing at him, Chris muttered a small reply and kept packing.

Buck left the door slightly open and stepped further into the room. “So, I heard you’re taking a trip. You sure about this? ‘Cause, I mean, there’s summer, and then there’s Texas, right?”

Chris didn’t reply.

“Listen, I know you’re mad at your dad, and I get it.” He perched on Chris’ desk chair. “When I was your age, my parents kind of sucked, and if I had some awesome grandparents, I would’ve been out of there in no time. But, as you get older, you realize just how messy life can be, and some of those things y-you thought they did on purpose … they were just mistakes. And they didn’t mean to hurt you. They were just dealing with their own pain.”

“I-I thought she was real. But she’s not my mom.”

“No, she’s not.”

Buck clenched his hands together and looked at Chris. There was a finality on his face, a look that told Buck he wasn’t about to change his mind. He was leaving and there was nothing any of them could do about it. All Buck could do was take the bag from him, and head out into the living room.

The bag was heavy in his fingers, heavier than it should have been. Eddie looked up when Buck stepped out, hope flashing across his face, but it was quickly distinguished, replaced with shock. Buck was seconds away from vomiting. He was supposed to be able to help. He wanted to make things okay, to make sure Chris didn’t leave, but he failed. Instead, he handed Ramon Diaz Chris’ backpack.

“You got everything?” Eddie asked, clearing his throat. 

“Whatever he forgot, you can send to us. Or we’ll replace it,” Helena said. 

Chris stepped into the living room and Eddie pulled him into a hug. Buck fought back the tears and the bile building in his throat.

“I love you,” Eddie said, lightly kissing Chris’ curls. “You’re not even gonna look at me?”

“No.”

Eddie bent down in front of him, lightly holding onto his arms. “I know you’re angry, but you need to listen to me. I love you, no matter what. You want to go with your grandparents? Okay. I hate it, but I love you. So I’m letting you go, but you can always come back. If you change your mind five minutes or five months from now … you just say the word … and I’ll come for you. Okay?”

“Okay, Dad.” Chris still didn’t look at him.

“Okay.”

Buck watched them, his heart and chest aching. Each breath felt like it was being wrenched out of his lungs by force and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He just stood there and watched Chris walk away with Ramon and Helena in tow, the door closing sharply behind them and silence filling the Diaz house for the first time in a long time. 

He placed a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, but there was no comfort he could bring. There was nothing he could say or do that would ever make it any easier. Still, Buck had to put on a brave face, he needed to be the supportive friend that Eddie needed, but inside he was crumbling to dust. 

Just a few years ago, he’d spent his birthday thinking Chris was lost, but he came home.

This time, Chris was gone, and there was nothing Buck could do to get him back. 

He was just gone. 

“He’ll come back,” Buck said to Eddie. The two of them stood staring at the door, almost expecting Chris to open it with that bright smile on his face. 

“What if he doesn’t?” Eddie’s voice cracked.

“He will. You know he will. He loves you, Eddie. You’re the best dad he could ask for and I know that when he’s had the chance to calm down, he’ll come back to you.”

Eddie sighed. “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.” He turned to Buck, his eyes shining. “He means everything to me, and I-I can’t lose him.”

“You won’t lose him.”

Buck wrapped his arms around Eddie and pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly and wishing he never had to let go. Eddie hugged him back, his body trembling as the emotions finally grabbed him by the throat and he sobbed into the fabric of Buck’s shirt. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Buck just stood there and held Eddie with all he could, letting him fall apart in his arms.

He let Eddie cry himself into exhaustion, tear stains marking Buck’s shirt, but he didn’t mind. Buck kept his own emotions tucked down and hidden. Eddie needed him to be the strong one, he needed him to hold it together. He made sure Eddie ate something and watched him eat in small slow bites. 

The last thing Buck wanted to do was leave Eddie alone in the silence of his house, but they had a shift in the morning and he couldn’t stay, even though he desperately wanted to.

When Buck left Eddie’s he drove home in a daze. Buck stumbled up to his apartment, dragged himself up the stairs, and crawled into bed without getting undressed. His chest heaved, his lungs burned, and the tears he’d been holding back flowed freely down his cheeks, damping his pillows. For the first time in years, Buck cried himself to sleep.

The pain settled itself deep in his chest and buried itself into every fibre of his being. Chris, the kid who kept his head up during the tsunami, who kept swimming despite everything, was gone. 

When his alarm sounded at midnight to signal the end of that fateful day, there was no release. The knot stayed tightly pulled in his stomach. 

His birthday had slipped by, but Chris was still gone, and Buck felt a part of him go with it.

Chapter Text

The end of their shift could not come soon enough.

Buck sat on the edge of the couch beside Ravi, the two of them engaged in a Mario Kart battle Buck was destined to lose. He couldn’t focus on the game. All he could focus on were the minutes ticking away on his watch and the inevitable moment he could disappear to his loft until his next shift in thirty-six hours. 

His leg bounced, his fingers struggled with the controller, and the familiar knot began to form in the pit of his stomach even though midnight was still a few hours away. Each tick of his watch was like a pin being pressed against his skin — a reminder of the day he always wanted to avoid. 

“Yes!” 

Ravi jolted violently in his seat, punching the air with his controller and knocking Buck to the side, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, throwing the controller onto the table.

“Show off,” Buck muttered.

“No one likes a sore loser, Buck.” Ravi shrugged his shoulders and placed his controller beside Buck’s. “I thought you were supposed to be good at that game, anyway.”

“Not after a thirty-six hour, I’m not.”

Waving his hand at Ravi, Buck stood up and crossed to the kitchen where he grabbed a cold glass of water. Ravi followed with a slight spring in his step and Buck knew he was holding back his excitement, but he was doing a bad job at it. Hen watched the two of them with her hands cupped around a steaming mug of tea.

Ravi grabbed a cookie from the cupboard and bit into it, showing his uniform with crumbs. “Excuses, excuses.”

“Shut up, probie.” 

“Hey!” Ravi spluttered. He all but showered Hen and Buck with cookie crumbs. “I haven’t been a probie in years. I’m your partner now, remember?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Cap, Buck’s bullying me.”

Buck looked over to the stairs where Bobby stood with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at Buck with a small arch of his eyebrow, but Buck looked away and refused to meet his eye. The last thing he wanted was a lecture about Ravi, but Buck never meant anything bad by what he said, he was just trying to laugh a laugh. The way he would have with Eddie. 

Except Ravi wasn’t Eddie, and after eight months of Eddie being gone, the reality was finally starting to settle itself into his bones.

Another minute ticked by.

“You’re all off the clock,” Bobby said.

Behind him, Buck could hear Ravi muttering High School Musical lyrics — something he only knew because Ravi had gotten Jee into the films. She insisted on watching them almost every time he babysat and Buck wasn’t proud to admit that he knew all the words. 

“Finally,” Hen mumbled. She washed her mug and placed it on the draining board, cracking her knuckles. “I’m exhausted.”

“Well, get some sleep. Athena and I are hosting a barbeque tomorrow and we expect you all to be there. Chim and Maddie have already agreed.” 

“I’m sure Karen would be up for it.”

“Always down for your cooking, Cap.”

“Buck?” Bobby looked at him with that same raised eyebrow.

Buck squirmed. The last thing he wanted to do was drag himself out of the house, especially given the date. He wanted to spend the day on the couch watching a trashy reality show and eating far too much ice cream for one person. But he couldn’t say that to Bobby. Not if he didn’t want to be pushed into therapy. Again.

“Maybe. I’ve got some things I need to do,” Buck lied. 

“Like what?” Hen stared at him.

“Grocery shopping.”

“That’s not going to take all day, Buck.”

“It might.” He shrugged. “I’ll try to make it. Promise.”

“You better,” Bobby said. “Go on, go home.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Buck shot down the stairs, changed faster than he ever had before, and left the firehouse before Ravi had even pulled his shirt off. He ignored the funny looks he got from B-shift as they entered the firehouse, ignored the strange look Hen shot him across the parking lot, jumped into his jeep and drove off without another word to anymore. 

When he reached home in a near-record time, Buck changed into a hoodie and sweatpants and settled onto the couch. He opened a beer bottle and let the condensation mix with the sweat coating his palms. His watch continued to tick. Buck did his best to distract himself from the approaching hour, nursing his beer and once again becoming involved in the world of The Great British Baking Show. 

There was nothing more relaxing than watching a group of people stress over their sponge cakes.

Darkness fell over his apartment, the only light coming from the screen. Buck fidgeted, unable to keep himself still as the clock struck eleven and he grew another hour closer. His phone buzzed. 

Eddie calling…

Buck answered it immediately, almost dropping his beer bottle on the floor in his haste to place it on the coffee table and exchange it for the ringing phone. He let out a small shriek as he answered the message, spilling beer on the floor and table.

“You okay?” Eddie’s voice washed over him, an amusing tone dancing in his words.

“Fine. Spilled my beer.” Buck stood up and grabbed a cloth from the kitchen, cleaning up the liquid before flinging it into the sink. “So, what’s up? You’re calling late.”

“I knew you were on shift and things have been a bit crazy here”

“Oh yeah? Crazy how?”

“The usual. Chris had a chess thing, Mom keeps badgering me about settling down, you know how it is.”

He didn’t. Not really. 

“That doesn’t sound too crazy to me. We had to rescue a grown man from a streetlight. No one knows how he got there, he just couldn’t get back down. There was a guy with his foot wedged in his toilet.”

Eddie laughed, the sound relaxing Buck’s tight muscles. “How’d he manage that one?”

“You know, none of us asked.” Buck chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Some little girl asked Ravi to get her teddy after it fell into the sewer and we weren’t about to refuse that request.”

“I bet Ravi wanted to.”

“Oh, he tried, but the little girl asked him. Even Bobby backed me up. We wouldn’t let him eat with us until he’d showered — which took an hour — and changed.”

“Did he get the teddy?”

“Yes, yes he did.”

“Good, good.”

They fell into an all-too-familiar silence. When Eddie was in L.A., they rarely ran out of things to talk about when they were hanging out. Buck would run commentary on whatever they were watching, or they’d debrief after work. Sometimes, they’d choose to sit in silence and just enjoy each other's company, but it wasn’t the same over the phone.

Buck didn’t find any comfort in the static that accompanied the silence, or the background noises from wherever Eddie happened to be calling him from. It was awkward and he hated it. He hated that Eddie was hundreds of miles away, hated that he’d been gone for so long, but he’d never say it. 

It wasn’t about him.

He listened to the sounds drifting through the speaker — muffled conversations, the occasional beep, and wheels rolling across the floor. Buck frowned. 

“Where are you?” he asked. “It sounds loud.”

“Oh—” Eddie cleared his throat. “—late night grocery run. Chris wanted ice cream and we didn’t have any.”

“You called me from the grocery store?”

“I wasn’t going to get the chance, and I wanted to check in, see how things were going.” 

Buck struggled to believe him. There was something in his tone, in the way his voice went up in pitch at the end of the sentence, that told him Eddie was lying. He just didn’t know why. Buck almost laughed at the fact both of them had lied about grocery shopping. It was too ridiculous. 

“I should go,” Eddie said, nerves weaving their way through each word. “Chris’ll be mad at me if I’m not back soon.”

“Sure. Talk soon?”

“I’ll call you.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, Buck.”

Buck was greeted by the peeping of an ended call, but he kept his phone pressed against his ear, one hand resting on his thigh. He sighed, his fingers gripping the phone. 

“I miss you,” he said, before letting the phone drop from his grip and fall into his lap.

Pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes, Buck slumped further into the leather of his couch. He listened to the soft sound of the show still playing in the background. 

It never got any easier. 

Each phone call from Eddie felt like a knife being driven into his heart, a dagger of ice piercing his skin and freezing him from the inside out. He wished it made him feel better. He wanted to believe that the phone calls made things easier, that it was almost the same as him being in L.A., but it wasn’t. There was an unmovable distance between them. All it did was hurt him more. 

His watch ticked. 

Buck opened his eyes and looked at it, watching the hands move closer to midnight until they crossed over. 

The familiar knot in the pit of his stomach appeared. 

Sighing, Buck all but dragged himself from the couch. He switched off the TV, dumped the last dregs of his beer down the drain, and forced himself to climb the stairs to his bed. 

It was another hour before the tendrils of sleep dragged him under, but it didn’t last long. Buck spent the night teetering on the edge of waking and sleeping. He’d toss and turn, pull the blankets off his body or tug them up over his head, but none of it worked. The ticking of his watch resting on his nightstand was like a beating drum.

A constant reminder. 

A year ago, Chris left. 

Three years ago, he and Eddie were held hostage by the escaped prisoners. 

Six years ago, he lost Chris in the tsunami. 

Eight years ago, he couldn’t save Devon.

Twenty years ago, Maddie forgot about him.

Thirty-four years ago Evan Buckley was born into a world that was determined to destroy him.

By the time sunlight started to stream in through the window, Buck felt like he hadn't managed to sleep once. His body was heavy, weighed down by some unknown force pressing him into the mattress. The silence in the apartment hung uncomfortably in the air.

His watch ticked. 

A loud knock on his front door startled him, but Buck didn't move. He buried his head beneath his blanket and hoped whoever it was would either think he wasn't in, or not want to wait long enough to find out. They knocked again. Buck buried himself deeper into the folds of his blanket.

Thirty seconds later, the blankets were unceremoniously ripped off his body and Buck jumped, scrambling into a sitting position with his back pressed against the pillows. His eyes adjusted to the light.

“Maddie?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “What are you doing here? Where’s Chim and the kids?”

“Chim and the girls are already at Bobby and Athena’s. I’m here to get you out of bed and make sure you go to the party and don’t try to avoid it.”

“I can’t go out.” He fake-coughed. “I’m sick. Give me my blankets.”

“Don’t quote Mean Girls at me.” Maddie sighed, perching on the edge of his bed, but keeping the blankets out of his reach. “Come on, Evan. I know you’d rather hide today, but getting out of the house might be just what you need.” She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Just come for a few hours, that’s it. Jee would love to spend some time with her Uncle Buck and you can’t turn down some Ara cuddles, can you?”

Buck fought back a smile at the mention of his newest niece. Maddie had always known the best thing to say to convince him to do anything — she had practically raised him, after all. She knew him better than he knew himself.

“Have a shower and I’ll rustle up something for breakfast.”

Rather than wait for him to try to say no, Maddie disappeared from his bedroom and seconds later the sound of pans being shifted around filled the space. Buck sighed. He ran his hands over his face but knew he couldn’t argue. No one would buy his fake attempt at playing sick, either. He’d never been a good enough actor for that. 

Instead, Buck forced himself into the shower where he stood under scalding hot water and all but scrubbed the top three layers of skin from his body. The knot in his stomach remained taut, and despite the promise of breakfast, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it down. Bad things always happened on his birthdays when he left the apartment. The few times he’d been able to hide away, nothing had gone wrong.

But he couldn’t say no, even if he wanted to. 

Buck dressed in the bathroom, pulling on a dark blue shirt and a pair of jeans. He opened his bathroom door and froze. 

The sweet smell of pancakes filled the apartment and the nausea lessened just that little bit. He’d never had pancakes on his birthday. Even after he left home, Buck never made them. To him, birthday pancakes were supposed to be made by someone else and it didn’t feel right to cook them for himself. There wasn’t any joy in it. 

He shook his head and tried to push all the thoughts from his head. Buck jogged down the steps and into the kitchen, his eyes zeroing in on a small cupcake on his kitchen island.

“Is—” He swallowed. “—is that a red velvet cupcake?”

“Thought I’d bring back the tradition. It’s been a while.”

“And the pancakes? Maddie—”

“—I know you’ve got this whole anti-birthday thing going on, and I really don’t blame you, but it’s just a cupcake and some pancakes. I’ve been a terrible sister when it comes to your birthday and I want to make up for it, even if it's just this one time. And before you say anything, this barbecue is just to get everyone together. It’s purely a coincidence that it’s today.”

“Pretty big coincidence,” Buck muttered. 

Maddie shook her head and slid a couple of chocolate chip pancakes onto a plate, sliding them across the kitchen island to Buck. “Eat up.”

“Thanks, Mads.” Buck slid into the seat, inhaling the smell of chocolate chips and sugar. 

“You’re welcome.” She walked around the island and placed a light kiss on his birthmark. “It doesn’t always have to be doom and gloom, Buck. You are allowed to enjoy yourself today despite what’s happened in the past. You can be happy.” 

Maddie squeezed his shoulder and headed back into the kitchen, busying herself with the dishes. Buck glanced at his pancakes. The knot in his stomach unraveled a little, letting him breathe more freely and pushing the nausea aside. 

He wanted to believe Maddie. More than anything, Buck wanted to think that things could change, but he knew that pancakes and a cupcake weren’t going to change much. How could he enjoy his day when Eddie and Chris were eight hundred miles away? When they both left, they’d taken part of Buck with them, and he was empty without them.

Still, he wasn’t going to let Maddie down and he wanted to believe things could get better. 

Buck tucked into the pancakes, devouring them in minutes until he was left with the remnants of the syrup, and melted chocolate. He grabbed onto the small piece of joy blooming in his stomach from having pancakes on his birthday and he wasn’t about to let it go. It was what he always wanted, and despite the fear permanently settled in his veins, he needed to cling to something. 

“Right, come on,” Maddie said after she’d washed his plate and dried her hands. “I think Bobby wants to make use of your cooking skills.”

“For a few hours. That’s it.”

“That’s all anyone is asking, and who knows, maybe you’ll enjoy yourself.”

He offered her a small smile which she returned. Grabbing his keys, Buck followed Maddie from his apartment and took his jeep rather than have to get a lift back from Maddie. If he left early, he didn’t want to make her leave too. 

Nerves flooded through his body the closer he got to Bobby and Athena’s place. Buck drove slower than he usually would, kept his hands firmly wrapped around the steering wheel, and watched out for anyone driving erratically. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he knew the universe could strike at any moment. 

Eddie would have laughed at him.

His heart clenched at the thought of Eddie. Buck had been to a handful of Bobby and Athena’s gatherings since he left, but none of them felt the same. Everyone had someone — Bobby had Athena, Maddie had Chimney, Hen had Karen and Ravi mingled easily with all of them. It wasn’t that Buck didn’t want to spend time with them, it was just he struggled to slide into ongoing conversations without feeling like he was getting in the way. 

After a while, he stopped going. He came up with excuses not to attend or took extra shifts so he didn’t have to lie. Buck was going to put on a brave face for Maddie and then make himself scarce at the first opportunity. The quicker he was back home, the better. 

“So, you didn’t have to go grocery shopping after all,” Bobby said when he opened the door to Buck and Maddie. 

Buck scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, I lied, or tried to.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. You’re here and you can help me in the kitchen. There’s still prep to be done.”

“You got it.”

Bobby clapped him on the shoulder and led him into the kitchen. Even though it wasn’t the first time Buck had been in Bobby and Athena’s new place, the size of the kitchen still took him by surprise. Bobby had plenty of space to show off his culinary skills and Buck was always glad to be part of it.

“Uncle Buck!” 

Buck turned just in time to watch Jee come sprinting in from the garden, throwing herself into Buck’s arms. He caught her and spun her around, pulling her into a hug. 

“There she is. The best girl in the entire world.” He grinned at her. “And how is my favorite niece?”

“You know, when Ara gets older, you’re not going to get to say that,” Chimney said, appearing in the doorway. “She’ll get jealous.”

“Shh, I’ll think of something.”

“Sure you will.”

Jee tapped Buck on the shoulder. “Mommy bought cupcakes, but she said I can’t have one.”

“What sort of cupcakes?”

“Red ones!” 

Buck glanced over at Maddie who came creeping out of one of the other rooms, most likely where they’d put Ara down to sleep, and offered him a half shrug of her shoulder. He shook his head, but he didn’t try to fight the smile. No one else needed to know Maddie had them. 

“Uncle Buck has to help with the cooking so why don’t you go and play,” he said, lowering her to the ground. 

“Will you play with me? We can play ponies!”

“Once I’ve finished here. Promise.”

He held his pinky out to her and she wrapped her own around it, grinning before darting off with Chimney following close behind.

“Right,” Bobby said, “these vegetables aren’t going to chop themselves.”

Taking hold of a chopping board and knife, Buck worked seamlessly alongside Bobby the way they always had. They worked in near silence. Buck made sure to be careful with the knives as he worked, not wanting to do himself an injury and ruin the first decent start to his birthday he’d had since the tsunami. He wasn’t about to get his hopes up, though. The last time he tried to feel happiness on his birthday, he’d been washed away. 

Instead, Buck threw himself into the tasks Bobby gave him until the food prep was done and he was forced to leave the kitchen and keep himself entertained. Hen and Karen arrived with Denny and Mara, and Ravi turned up not long after, leaving their group complete but not quite whole. There was still someone missing, but Buck ignored the aching feeling in his chest. He was going to try to enjoy himself for once. 

He had his uncle cuddle with Ara, warmth spreading through his body at the small face staring up at him and cooing softly in his arms. Part of him wondered if he’d ever have the chance to have kids himself, but he pushed the thought down as soon as it appeared. 

When Maddie took Ara off to feed her and settle her down for a nap in the spare room, Jee seized her chance. She grabbed Buck by the hand and dragged him off to the garden to play ponies with her and Mara. He spent close to thirty minutes crawling around on his hands and knees, ignoring the grass no doubt staining his jeans. 

Buck didn’t care. 

The knot in his stomach had loosened, unraveling more than he expected it to. Warmth and joy flooded through him and the weight that had settled so heavily on him that morning had lifted. The fear lingered, but it always would. It wasn’t going to lift entirely until the clock struck midnight and he knew he was safe from the universe for another year. 

“Come on, Jee,” Chimney said, offering a hand out to his daughter who tugged on the back of Buck’s shirt like it was a set of horse reins. “Why don’t we let Uncle Buck catch his breath and go and get a cupcake?”

“Cupcakes!”

Jee scrambled off Buck’s back and dragged Chimney away with more strength than someone her age should have possessed. Buck sat back on his heels. He stretched his shoulder and offered an outstretched arm from Hen so he could be pulled to his feet. 

“Glad you didn’t go grocery shopping?” she asked, watching him clean the grass from his jeans.

“I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

She laughed, patting him on the back. “It wasn’t one of your finest lies, Buck. You’ve made up better stories in the past. But, are you glad?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Good. It’s nice to see you smile for a change, you’ve been bringing the mood down at the firehouse.”

“I haven’t been that bad.” He shook his head at Hen’s raised eyebrow. “Okay, maybe it’s been a long few months, but I’m working on it.”

“Well, there might be something that can help you out.”

Hen smiled, her eyes looking past Buck rather than at him. The garden stilled around him. Buck frowned, not quite understanding what she meant. She raised her hand and pointed behind him, the smile growing.

Buck turned.

Bright blue eyes met dark brown.

His breath caught in his throat, a buzzing sound filling his ears. Buck took in the familiar lopsided grin, the glint in his friend's eyes, and the small strand of hair curling on his forehead. He looked exactly the same time, but at the same time, completely different. 

“Eddie,” he whispered, his breath rushing back.

“Hey.”

Buck surged forward without thinking, stumbling over his own feet and ignoring everyone around him. They didn’t matter. Eddie did. 

Reaching him, Buck wrapped his arms around Eddie’s chest and pulled him into a hug, squeezing as tightly as he could, and resting his chin on his shoulder. Eddie’s arms snaked around his lower back. Buck relaxed into the hug, the last of the tension melting away from his muscles and leaving a light, almost airy feeling he hadn’t had in a long time. The knot in his stomach unravelled and, for the first time in months, Buck felt like he could breathe. 

“I missed you,” Buck muttered, his voice barely over a whisper.

“I missed you too.” Eddie squeezed him. “So much.”

Buck choked back a sob. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into the hug, basking in the warmth of Eddie’s body and the smell of sandalwood he’d missed so much. Electricity tingled across his skin, and light burned in the pit of his stomach. Buck didn’t want to let go. 

But he did. 

Sort of. 

He pulled out of the hug but let his fingers grip Eddie’s arms as though afraid that if he let go, Eddie would disappear. Buck hadn’t figured out if he was dreaming, but he wasn’t about to test it. Eddie had been gone for eight months, he wasn’t about to lose him again.

“What—” Buck took a shaky breath. “—what are you doing here?”

“We wanted to surprise you,” Eddie said, a small smile on his lips. 

“We?”

“Yes, Buck. We.” He emphasized the word, the smile growing.

Eddie glanced over his shoulder and jutted out his chin. The smile didn’t waver. Buck kept his grip on Eddie’s arms tight, his knuckles almost turning white, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. The familiar echoing of crutches on the floor blocked out the soft music that Buck had long since forgotten was playing in the background. 

Chris walked through the open double doors, the familiar cheeky smile etched onto his face even though he was firmly set in his teenage years. He’d grown several inches taller in the past year, chasing Eddie in height but still a good way off Buck. His mop of curly hair was unruly, and, aside from the height, he was the same kid Buck watched leave a year ago. 

“Hi, Buck,” he said.

“God, you got tall.” Keeping a grip on Eddie’s arm, Buck wrapped one arm around Chris' shoulder and hugged him. 

“Buck,” he whined, trying to squirm away.

“Deal with it, Chris. You might think you’re too old for hugs, but I haven’t seen you in a year. Accept your destiny.”

“You’re so annoying.” Chris didn’t fight the small smile on his face, and Buck could have sworn he leant into the hug.

“It’s part of my charm.”

Chris let out a small snort, turning into laughter that the fabric of Buck’s shirt muffled a little. Buck never wanted to let him go. Either of them. He felt whole for the first time in a year like everything might finally work out. The pieces of him that left with them both were back and the puzzle was complete for the first time in months. 

Not even that could stop the doubt from slipping in. 

Eddie and Chris were settled in El Paso. They’d been settled for months. He knew they weren’t staying, but he intended to savor the moment whilst he had them. No matter how long it might be. 

“So, glad I dragged you out of the apartment?” Maddie asked. 

Buck looked up. He forgot everyone else was there, but they seemed to have made themselves scarce and disappeared into the comfort of the house. Maddie stood in the doorway with a smile that proved she was pleased with herself.

“Did everyone know about this but me?” He ran a hand through Chris’ mop of curls.

“Sort of defeats the purpose of a surprise, Buck, but yes. Everyone knew.”

“What would you have done if I didn’t agree?”

Maddie shrugged. “I knew you would, but if you didn’t, I was more than ready to drag you kicking and screaming from your apartment.”

“Like you could.”

“Don’t challenge me, Evan.” She shook her head and turned to Chris. “Why don’t you go and see Harry and Denny and we can let Buck and your dad talk.”

“Sure,” Chris said. 

Buck released him, though he did so reluctantly. He didn’t want to let either of them go just yet. Chris headed off into the house, but Maddie lingered, briefly looking at Eddie before turning to Buck. She reached out and grabbed his upper arm, squeezing it lightly. 

“Remember what I said this morning.”

With a small smile, she followed Chris into the house and closed the double door so the two of them could have some privacy. Buck tore his eyes away from the door and looked back at Eddie, his fingers still curled around his arm and refusing to let go. Eddie had that same smile on his face, but it was smaller, more intimate than it had been when Chris was around. 

He still didn’t believe it was real. 

After eight months of talking to him over the phone, of seeing him through a small screen, he was finally back. Eddie was standing in front of him, Chris was in the house, and they were home. Finally. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, lightly squeezing his grip on Eddie’s arm and then loosening it a little.

“Me neither,” Eddie said, his voice a little more than a whisper. “Why don’t we sit down before you fall down and drag me with you.”

“Rude.”

He wasn’t about to admit it, but Eddie had a point. Buck was almost dizzy with relief and joy, his heart thumping against his chest. Although he didn’t want to let Eddie go, he released his arm and the two of them settled on the warm paving slabs outside the house. He placed his hands on his lap, running his sweat-covered palms along the fabric of his jeans. 

Eddie perched beside him, sitting so close their shoulders were pretty much touching. Buck didn’t turn around, but he had a feeling they were being watched through the doors. He didn’t mind.

A rogue thought crossed his mind.

“Where were you when you called last night?”

Eddie ducked his head, his cheeks turning pink, and he scratched the back of his neck. “The airport. We were about to get on the flight back.”

“I knew something was up.” Buck pushed him gently. “You never go grocery shopping late at night.”

“I didn’t know what else I was supposed to say. Besides, from what Hen texted me, I wasn’t the only one lying about grocery shopping.”

“Never living it down,” Buck muttered.

“Why did you lie? Usually, you’re the life of the party at these things.”

Buck shrugged. “It just wasn’t the same, you know?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “I do. El Paso wasn’t right without you. I didn’t have anyone sharing their random facts with me at four in the morning.”

“How—” Buck dragged his palms along his jeans, turning away from Eddie and frowning at the fabric. “—how long are you two staying?”

Eddie exhaled softly. “Buck, look at me.”

Buck didn’t. He kept his gaze focused on his jeans, on the small grass stains covering the light blue fabric. He couldn’t bring himself to look at him. Buck wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep himself together when he found out just how long he’d have with Eddie and Chris before they left again. It would hurt too much. 

“Please, Buck.”

His voice was soft, comforting almost, but Buck still couldn’t do it. Eddie’s fingers lightly brushed across his skin, goosebumps spreading down Buck’s back. With the lightest of touches, Eddie lifted Buck’s head and turned it towards him, all but forcing him to look even though he didn’t want to. 

Their eyes met and a small shiver trickled down Buck’s back. He expected to see sadness in Eddie’s eyes, the same look he had when they departed eight months ago, but it wasn’t there. Eddie dropped his fingers from Buck’s face and reached out to take his hand, lacing their fingers together. 

“We’re not going anyway.”

Buck froze, unsure if he heard what he thought he heard. “What?”

“Me and Chris. We’re staying in L.A.. Permanently.” The smile returned to Eddie’s face. “We talked it out and we both missed this place. El Paso wasn’t home, even if we tried to make it that way. There wasn’t a 118, with a Bobby to guide it. We didn’t have Athena to call on. And—” He squeezed Buck’s hand. “—you weren’t there.”

Buck took his hand out of Eddie’s and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him into another hug and resting his chin on his shoulder. Eddie hugged him back and squeezed, his body relaxing. Tears welled in Buck’s eyes, but he didn’t blink them away. They trickled down his cheek. 

They were staying. 

They were home, and they weren’t leaving. 

Relief flooded through his body, the last remnants of the knot in his stomach unraveling and freeing him from the fear he’d had since he woke that morning. He leant into the hug, relaxing into Eddie’s grip and pressing his face into the soft fabric of his shirt. 

They stayed like that for a little while longer, embracing each other under the fading L.A. sun. Buck didn’t want to be the first one to pull away, but he did, slowly escaping Eddie’s grip, but his hand found his seconds later. Eddie looked at him and smiled, his thumb gently brushing across his knuckle.

“Sorry,” Buck said. He wiped his face with his free hand. 

“Don’t be. You should have seen me when Chris and I were talking. I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much before.”

Buck laughed, a small watery chuckle. “It must’ve worked.”

“It did.” Eddie laughed, his thumb still brushing over his skin. “What did Maddie mean? About this morning?”

“It’s just …” He took a deep breath. “Today’s my birthday.”

Eddie blanched. “What? I didn’t know that.”

“No one does. Well, Maddie does, obviously, and it’s on my paperwork so Bobby knows, but no one else does.” Buck shrugged. “I’ve never really celebrated it, not even when I was a kid. Maddie tried, but then she left and from then it’s just been another day.”

“Chris left a year ago today.”

Buck nodded slowly, sighing a little. “I’m lucky to get through the day unscathed — Chris leaving, the tsunami, losing Devon. All of it coincided with today. The universe has had it out for me every year and I always found it easier to get through it if I never let my bed. I didn’t want to come today because I was worried about what would happen.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie’s thumb continued to brush over Buck’s knuckles. 

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “This morning, Maddie reminded me that it didn’t have to be all bad. She made me pancakes, which used to be a tradition for her, and she gave me a cupcake.” Buck smiled. “She used to do it when I was a kid since our parents never bothered. Then you and Chris turned up.”

Eddie smiled, lightly knocking into his shoulder. “Yeah, we did.” He took a deep breath. “Maddie’s right, you know. Despite what’s happened before, it doesn’t mean it’s all bad. If I’ve learnt anything over the past year, it’s that you’re allowed to feel joy. You don’t have to cling to the past.”

“Did you speak to another Priest?”

“Several.”

Buck laughed, raking his free hand through his mess of curls. He leaned against Eddie’s shoulder arm and dropped his head onto his shoulder, sighing. Sunlight warmed his face. 

Something close to peace settled in his body. For the first time in as long as he could remember, there was no knot in his stomach, there was no fear in his veins, it was just happiness. He leaned into the moment, letting the calmness wash over him.

“I think,” Eddie said, “we need to stick a middle finger up to the universe.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in the universe or curses.”

His shoulder moved in an almost shrug. “I’ve been gone for eight months, things change. Maybe you need some new birthday traditions. Pancakes, red velvet cakes, and a movie night with me and Chris.”

“Oh yeah? You’d both be asleep by the time the film finished or did you forget that you got into LAX in the early hours of the morning?”

“Doesn’t matter. We can just do it all again next year, minus the flight. And the year after that. And the one after that.”

Buck lifted his head, a small smile tugging on his lips as he looked at Eddie, their eyes meeting. “That’s a lot of years.”

“I’d do it for the rest of my life, Buck, if it meant you were there. I’ve already left you once, I’m not doing it again.”

“You mean that?”

“‘Course I do.” Eddie lifted their laced fingers up and placed a light kiss on the back of Buck’s hand. “You’re my joy, Evan. You always will be.”

Buck smiled and let his head drop back onto Eddie's shoulder. “And you’re mine.”

Eddie squeezed his fingers, resting his head on top of Buck's with a small sigh. The L.A. sun began to dip beneath the horizon, painting the sky a pale pink color.

In that moment if someone had asked Buck if he hated his birthday, he would have said no. He didn't. 

For the first time in his life, he looked forward to the promises it held.