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Buck stares at the ocean.
The endless stretch of blue in front of him makes him feel dizzy. Once upon a time, the ocean crashed into Buck‘s life and almost took something precious from him. The memories still feel like fresh cuts. Thinking he lost Christopher … It hurt so much to look into Eddie’s fearful eyes that day.
Now the ocean lies still. Peaceful. It doesn’t let what it took from Buck now show.
Maddie clears her throat. She’s standing beside him, the wind making her hair float gently. She has her arms wrapped around herself and Buck wonders what she sees. After all, his sister has her own painful memories of the water. But she still came to the beach with him. Even though, there’s nothing to see. Nothing to do. Nothing. Only the blue. And them.
Maddie's fingers brush his arm. “Buck. I think it’s time to -”
“Don’t,” Buck says quietly, keeping his eyes on the ocean. He can’t do this right now. He can’t.
Maddie bites her lip. “They lost contact so long ago, Buck. I … It’s just not realistic.”
I don’t care.
“I won’t give up on him.”
“Of course you won’t,” Maddie says softly. Sadly.
Everyone else does. Buck knows that. They are giving up. It’s been too long, they say. It’s been too long for someone to survive out there alone. At night. In the cold ocean. Probably injured. Without any resources. Without water.
So far, the rescue teams have found nothing.
The storm brewed up so fast that night … It darkened the sky. Made the waves high and unruly. No one knows what exactly happened. Tommy was supposed to fly back to Harbor Station. But his helicopter went off route. He did send a call for help, but the connection broke after seconds. Since that, there has been no sign of life.
That was two days ago.
Two days. 48 hours of silence. Of uncertainty.
Buck can't stand not knowing what happened. He needs to know. His thoughts are racing and create horror scenarios that are running in front of his eyes like movies.
There are so many possible ways Tommy might have died out there.
The fatality rate of this kind of crash is 25%. Tommy’s helicopter might have sunk down to the bottom of the ocean with him still in the pilot’s seat, unconscious, drowning without even noticing. Or: He might have made it out of the chopper, but then he would still be out there, in the open water, with nothing to hold on to probably, while the waves threw him around and he eventually froze to death.
Ocean water is so cold. Buck remembers its embrace and shudders involuntarily.
But if Tommy survived the crash and didn’t freeze, he might still be alive. A typical person can theoretically survive three to four days without water.
Buck sighs. It feels like at this point, they are all just waiting for news. For something that gives them some kind of closure.
Maybe parts of the helicopter will be found floating on the surface. Or … a body.
A shiver runs down Buck’s back. He swallows, finally sick of staring at the ocean. It’s going to tell him nothing anyway. “Let’s go home.”
But just when they are about to walk to the truck, Buck receives a call.
His breath hitches when he sees who it is. “Athena?” He asks, his mouth dry.
“Buck,” Athena says crisply.
He closes his eyes, the cold hand of dread curling around his heart. This is it, right? This is the moment she will tell him that they found the helicopter. Or Tommy’s body.
Maddie takes Buck’s free hand, holding it in silent comfort.
Athena takes a deep breath. “They found him.”
Buck expected to hear that but his heart still sinks. Like Tommy’s helicopter undoubtedly sank. Into an abyss of cold darkness. “O-okay. Am I … Do they want me to, like, identify him?”
“Buck. He’s alive.”
Buck’s mouth drops open. “I … What?”
“He’s alive,” Athena repeats, softer.
Buck’s legs buckle. “Oh, oh God. But …”
“I swear, you and Tommy … You have more luck than possible. A cargo boat found him floating on a metal sheet and brought him back. He’s severely dehydrated, hypothermic, sunburnt, and he swallowed way too much water, but other than that … The doctors say he’s going to be fine.”
“Fine,” Buck echoes numbly, looking at Maddie who smiles, tears in her eyes. “He’s going to be fine.”
It seems so surreal.
Buck doesn’t quite believe it until he sees Tommy. Until he sees his chest slowly rising and falling. Until he hears the confirmation from the doctors. It’s a miracle, they say. Buck just stares at Tommy and all he can think is: The ocean gave him back. It gave him back. Oh God. I still love him.
Tommy looks horrible.
Where his skin isn’t angry red and dry, it’s ghostly pale. His hair is frail and his lips are cracked. The nurses put balm on them which makes them look shiny. A bandage is wrapped around Tommy’s head and both of his hands. He’s getting fluids from an IV bag.
Buck doesn’t dare to make noise. He stands and breathes and looks.
A part of him was so certain he wouldn’t ever see Tommy alive again.
He watches in awe when Tommy’s eyes flutter open, revealing hazy blue.
“Hey,” Buck says and God, he wants to hold Tommy’s hand. But he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. “I’m glad you’re awake.”
Tommy's eyes widen a bit, flickering to him, trying to focus.
“Ev.” Tommy’s voice sounds like he gargled gravel.
“It’s okay,” Buck says. “We don’t have to talk right now. You survived two days in the open ocean. You can allow yourself to rest.”
A tear rolls down Tommy’s cheek and drops from his chin. “Ev,” he repeats. “Sorry.”
Buck can’t hold himself back anymore. He takes Tommy’s hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
“I had a horrible dream,” Tommy tells him two days later, still weak, but able to stay awake for half an hour at least. “I floated in the middle of the ocean, on a piece of my helicopter. It was wet, blazing hot and everything tasted like fish.”
“Yeah. Well, that really happened,” Buck says sympathetically.
“I don’t want to ever eat fish again,” Tommy says, his eyes already fluttering close again. He grimaces. “Sometimes I could feel them. I think they nibbled at my toes, testing if I’m edible. Please. Don’t let them in here.”
“I won’t,” Buck promises, suppressing a chuckle. “I won’t let the fish get to you.”
“Good,” Tommy whispers, his head lolling to the side as he’s dozing off.
“The worst thing was the sun,” Tommy says, shuddering. “One time I yelled at it to disappear. But it didn’t, of course. It was so hot. I thought I would burn. It got so bad that I considered jumping into the water, but I was scared of it. It was so deep. And dark. And … And I was afraid I wouldn’t find the strength to get up on that metal sheet thing again.”
He swallows, feeling both exhausted and relieved he can share this with someone.
His therapist waits patiently as Tommy catches his breath, and prepares to tell her about the detail he thinks most about. He dreams about it.
“When it got really bad out there, when I thought I was about to die, I … I started to hallucinate. I saw Evan. My … my ex-boyfriend. He told me not to give up. Told me to hold on. I think his voice kept me alive. Kept me fighting. I wanted to get back to him. I love him. I know I do. But I’m scared he won’t want to take me back after I hurt him.”
He bites his lip.
“I just wish I could stop being so afraid. I destroyed our relationship because I was scared it wouldn’t last forever and would break my heart. Now I’m scared I might not get another chance.”
“You should tell Evan about this,” his therapist says. “Just be honest. It’s okay to be scared. I’m sure he will understand.”
Tommy nods. He was born again. He can be brave in this new life.
“I’m so glad the ocean gave you back,” Buck says, his fingers drawing circles on Tommy’s bare chest.
“I’m glad too. I mean, I could have done without all the extra trauma, but this is exactly where I want to be right now,” Tommy sighs, kissing Buck’s head. “I love you.”
"I love you too," Buck closes his eyes in bliss, snuggling closer to Tommy. They're warm and safe, ready to face the waves of trauma together.