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After his last drive of the day, Eddie heads to the nearest gas station to fill up his tank. It was a good day – lots of tips – and he even had a super chatty elderly woman who is becoming a regular for him these days. She’s wonderful; she engages him so much he can get out his need to babble, and then she tips him in cash because she doesn’t trust the app to actually give him the money, and then she calls him darling before she gets out of the car and shuffles up to her apartment building.
When he pays for his gas, he pulls away from the stations and into a spot where he can text Christopher.
On my way.
He cruises to the school. He’s fallen into a sort of stride with his routine now that his son is living with him. They eat breakfast together in the morning, he takes him to school, he does rides for six hours, then he fills up the car and picks up his son and takes him home. They get the rest of the night together. Eddie has agreed to let his parents have Christopher twice a week (Mondays and Fridays) and on those nights, Eddie will either work more, or he’ll hang out at home by himself.
Being alone is different now that Christopher is living with him. It isn’t painful anymore.
He is greeted cheerily by his son’s friends when the car pulls up next to them.
“Hi, Christopher’s dad!”
“Yeah, hey Mr. Diaz!”
He laughs. “Guys, I told you: you’re more than welcome to call me Eddie.”
The only girl in the bunch scrunches her face and shakes her head. “Mr. Diaz is more polite,” she tells him.
He shrugs. “That’s true. Whatever you guys want to call me is fine,” he insists.
Christopher climbs inside the passenger seat carefully and Eddie takes his crutches for him. “Hey, pal. How was school?”
The boy shrugs. “School is annoying in both states, fun fact.”
Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. “Yep. I never liked it,” he admits. Christopher takes a minute to get himself buckled, and then Eddie looks at him fondly. “What do you wanna do for dinner?”
“I kind of want steak, but…”
“But, what?” Eddie wonders, carefully steering out from the row of cars he found himself in during pickup. “We can get steak, if you want.”
“I want Buck’s steak,” he frowns. “He gets it perfect.”
Eddie’s heart sinks, but he breathes through it. “I know, Chris. We’ll have Buck come down here sometime.”
“Maybe, we can visit him, too.” The words hit him like a ton of bricks, and Eddie has to very purposefully remind himself to drive.
“You’d…” he starts hesitantly, “want to visit Los Angeles again?”
“Maybe one day, we can move back.”
Eddie can’t help the way his heart swells. He sneaks a peak at his son, his perfect, perfect son, and smiles so widely that his chest bubbles with emotion. “Yeah, son. One day.”
They settle on pizza and wings, from a place that Eddie hasn’t had in nearly ten years, but God, it tastes just like he remembers. It’s a small place, practically a hole in the wall. Family-owned, made from scratch. Eddie remembers taking Shannon there on a date really early into their relationship. The lighting is unforgiving, there are cracks in the wall. Only like, four tables to dine at.
But still, it’s the best.
Christopher decides after exactly four bites of pizza that it’s his favorite pizza he’s ever had, and Eddie agrees.
At home, settled into the couch with their food, Christopher queues up an episode of that telenovela they love while Eddie tries to FaceTime Buck to catch up for the day. The phone rings and rings, so he gives up. “Must be busy at work,” Eddie hums, putting his phone away.
“Fighting fires?” Christopher asks around a mouthful of pizza.
“Maybe,” Eddie nods, leaning back into the couch and putting his feet on the coffee table. “He’ll call us back when he can.”
When he can never comes.
It’s 8 o’clock when Christopher decides he’s over watching the show with his dad. He’s happy to be back with Eddie, but he’s still a teenager and would rather be on his computer with his friends most of the time. Discord and Steam, a lethal combo that Eddie couldn’t even begin to understand.
When he’s squared away in his bedroom, Eddie tidies up the living room and does the dishes before he even thinks of checking his phone. When he does, he is surprised to see nothing from Buck again.
He sits back on the couch while he flips through the channels idly. There’s nothing interesting on, and he isn’t really a TV kind of guy other than what he watches with Christopher, but as the call ends and Buck doesn’t pick up, he lands on the news channel.
He’s about to click away, but the headline grabs his attention.
BREAKING NEWS | SoCal Tech Building in Lockdown, Explosion in Sub-Level, Residents Evacuated for Eight Blocks
He blows a raspberry. Jeez. He watches the coverage carefully while his phone dims in his hand. The call goes nowhere, and so he sends Buck a text.
Heard about the explosion down there. Hope you guys are far away from it. Call me when you can.
Then, because the universe has decided that it does, in fact, scream, and it loves to yell at him specifically, the headline changes.
BREAKING NEWS | LAFD Trapped Inside SoCal Tech Building Amid Lockdown, Explosion, Station 118 Exposed to Deadly Virus
He literally loses his dinner.
He sprints to the bathroom in a split-second decision and throws up every crumb of food he just ate, tears welling at his eyes as the pressure behind them worsens with each heave.
He sits on the floor next to the toilet and presses his palms to the cool tile, grounding himself. Sweat beads along his forehead.
A small voice knocks at the bathroom door. “Dad? You okay?”
Not even a fucking little bit, he thinks.
“Uh, yeah,” he lies, carefully getting to his feet. “I’m okay. I think the pizza didn’t agree with me.” He opens the door so that Christopher can see that he’s alright. He flushes the toilet and washes his hands. “I’m okay,” he says again assuredly. “Go to bed.”
Christopher actually snorts. “I’m fourteen,” he laughs. “It’s not even nine.”
Eddie looks at his watch, surprised. “Right. Right,” he adds quickly. “Sorry,” he laughs. It’s forced, but Christopher believes it enough. “I’m just cleaning up, so… I’ll come say goodnight later.”
“Okay,” the boy agrees. “Feel better, Dad! Maybe… have some tea.”
Eddie smiles. “Alright, I’ll try it. Thanks, Bud.”
Christopher heads back to his room, and as the door clicks closed, Eddie jogs back to the living room and clamours for his phone. He tries calling Buck again. And again. And again.
As he’s about to try Bobby, the news headline changes.
DEVELOPING | SoCal Tech Disaster Worsens as Deadly Virus Infects Quarantined Firefighter, PPE Fails
His hands are trembling as the news continues. The videos loop repeatedly as the station recycles old content for their segment. Helicopter footage of a broadening military presence outside the building makes Eddie feel numb. Then, to make matters worse, to add fuel to an already seismic fire, the reporter that appears is fucking Taylor Kelly. Because God forbid there be literally any other reporter.
“We’re coming to you live outside the SoCal Tech BioMed building,” she reports professionally, her voice distorted as her mic is muffled by her PPE. “As you can see behind me, the US Department of Defense has taken over the scene, where LAPD and the CDC work together to make the area safe. As of 6:30PM, there is a mandatory evacuation for residents and commercial buildings as far as eight square blocks around the building. Firefighters were successfully able to rescue two of the employees inside the building at the sub-level before they were promptly locked inside as the security protocols took effect to contain the exposure.”
Eddie’s ears start to ring and the sound of Taylor’s grating voice gets quieter and quieter. He feels like he’s underwater.
“C’mon, Buck,” he pleads, voice barely a whisper. He calls Buck again. It doesn’t ring this time – it immediately fails.
He considers running back to the bathroom, but he keeps himself steady. This time, he calls Bobby.
It rings seven times before it kicks him to voicemail.
He tries Hen. It rings and rings relentlessly before it goes to voicemail. He tries Chimney, Maddie, Ravi. Each time, it’s the same.
Hi, you’ve reached Captain Bob-
Hey, you’ve reached Hen-
It’s Chimney, you know what to do-
Hi! You’ve reached Maddie, leave your-
It’s Ravi. Hit me at the beep-
Eddie can’t breathe.
The news cuts itself off as a new headline rolls across the bottom of his screen.
BREAKING NEWS | LAPD, SWAT, FBI, DOD Search for Scorned Employee That May Be Harboring Antiviral Medicine After Dismissal
Eddie weeps ever so slightly. Enough to cut through the silence like a knife. He tries to send Buck a text.
Buck, please let me know as SOON as you see this. I need to know you guys are alive. Please.
When the message fails to deliver, he decides to call in the big guns.
First, he calls Athena, and is met with her voicemail all the same. He’s not too surprised, because LAPD is on scene, but he is terrified. Next, he calls Josh from the fucking dispatch center. Historically, not his favourite person, but he’ll be able to at least explain that Maddie is busy or let him know if the 118 is okay.
And he gets nothing.
He has only one arrow left in his quiver of Los Angeles contacts, and that is Taylor Kelly.
Or, it would be if he could find her number. He never put it in his contacts (something something he hates her and doesn’t want her tainting his phone) but he’s sure he wrote it down in a notes app somewhere.
Or maybe he doesn’t, because he scours his phone and can’t find it anywhere.
He wants to throw his phone at the TV. He almost does, actually, until he finds a note accurately titled with an eyeroll emoji and a phone number. He would laugh if he could find any humor in the current situation, but at least he has her number now.
But when he calls, it doesn’t even send him to voicemail.
We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach has not been activated by the carrier. Please, try again later.
He’s fully crying now, a silent stream of tears flowing down his cheeks. He tries the 118 repeatedly to no avail, and the news does nothing to alleviate his fears.
BREAKING NEWS | Scorned Employee Identified As Moira Blake of SoCal Tech, Hunt Continues
“-until this afternoon, Blake was a scientist at South California’s Institute of Technology. Sources say that she was heading a team that was researching CCHF, Crimean-Congo hemorrhagic fever,” Taylor reports. Eddie watches intently as a uniformed military officer descends on Taylor from behind with a swiftness that can not be good for her. She continues. “Sources say that CCHF is a risk level 4 pathogen, which means that it is considered one of the most dangerous-”
All of the sudden, the military officer rips the microphone from her hands and the feed goes completely black for a couple seconds.
“What happened?” he murmurs to himself, bewildered.
When the feed resumes, it’s not about the explosion at all.
Los Angeles Could See Record Low in Precipitation This Summer
“What?” he shouts. He flips the channels a couple times to other news coverage, but each time there is a media blackout on the situation in LA.
He calls his parents this time, and thankfully, they do answer.
“Eddie?” his dad answers quickly, “is everything okay?”
What a loaded question. “Uh, n-no, not really. I mean – Christopher’s fine, I’m fine. But I need you guys to come here and watch him.”
“Of course, what happened?”
“I need to get to LA. There’s been an explosion and I can’t contact my team.”
Of course, Christopher happens to wander in at that moment. “You can’t reach Buck?”
He winces. “No, I can’t, son, but I don’t want you to worry,” he stands, closes the distance between them as he crouches to his level a bit. “I’m gonna go to LA and see if I can help. Grandma and Grandpa are gonna come watch you.”
“No,” the boy says firmly.
“No?” Eddie cocks his head.
“I have to come with you, I have to make sure they’re okay.”
God, he loves this kid. “Christopher, you can’t. They’ve evacuated the area because it’s not safe.”
“Take me to Carla’s! Or Tia Pepa’s!” Chris exclaims angrily. “I need to be there with you.”
Eddie bites his bottom lip as he debates it. Would it make him terribly unfit to bring a child back to LA? Probably. But if something… God forbid… does happen to Buck, or any of them, really, Christopher will want a chance to say goodbye.
The knot in Eddie’s stomach tightens considerably.
“Okay,” he decides then. He returns the phone to his ear. “Dad, nevermind. I’ve got it handled. Thanks.” He hangs up on them then, and tells Christopher to pack a suitcase quickly while he buys plane tickets for the soonest available flight.
There aren’t any flights out of El Paso for the next four hours, but nevertheless, he buys them. 1:30AM economy for 2. He finds Christopher in his room. “Pal,” he greets, sitting on his desk chair and facing him on the bed. “I got the tickets,” he informs him. “But the flight isn’t until 1:30. So, do me a favor: try to get a nap in now, okay? And I’ll wake you up when we have to leave. And we’ll Uber to the airport.”
“Okay,” the boy agrees. “Are you gonna try to nap too?”
“Yeah,” he lies easily. “I’m just gonna pack a bag.” Christopher nods, and as Eddie stands, he kisses his forehead. “I love you, get some rest.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
He doesn’t even attempt to sleep. He is wide awake, flipping through the same four channels for even an iota of information about the 118. His call log is nothing short of insane.
Buck (47) 10:49 PM
Bobby (15) 10:35 PM
Hen (17) 10:33 PM
Chimney (15) 10:32 PM
Maddie (21) 10:30 PM
Ravi (9) 10:17 PM
Athena (9) 10:15 PM
Josh (3) 10:10 PM
Dad 9:41 PM
Unknown Number 8:33 PM
He calls Buck again, but for the first time in an hour, he leaves a message.
“Buck,” he whispers hoarsely, emotion clawing its way out of his throat, “Please call me back as soon as you get this. I’m losing my mind over here trying to find out if you guys are okay. I don’t know which one of you is exposed, but I’m freaking out. I can’t take it if something happens to you, Buck. Call me back.”
Eddie cries. He is overwhelmed and guilt-ridden and wishes he were there with his team helping them through whatever the hell is happening. He wishes he were already on the plane and about to land. He wishes Buck would even just read his messages. He wishes he knew if someone was alive. Anyone.
Skywitness News Eight refreshes itself suddenly, a Breaking News graphic waving across the screen.
BREAKING NEWS | DOD Orders Media Blackout on SoCal Tech Lockdown, Skywitness News Resumes Coverage
Taylor is seen once again on camera, and for the first time maybe ever , Eddie is thrilled to see her. There is a production being made of her being uncuffed on live television. He is completely engrossed. She is shaking slightly, but she is ever the professional, and persists.
She is handed her microphone, and her voice, despite her demeanor, is unwavering.
“As you saw, I was taken off the air some time ago in order to cover up the SoCal Tech BioMed lockdown. The Department of Defense had me arrested for covering the story. But I am here, and I will continue to fight for Los Angeles, and for you to know the truth.” He almost finds her contentiousness endearing. She continues as the camera focuses behind her. “As you can see, the building continues to be locked down as the hunt for the disgraced scientist that unleashed the virus and stole the antiviral continues. The tents you see behind me are full of alphabet agencies working tirelessly to save the firefighters inside the building, including one who was exposed to the CCHF and already exhibiting symptoms. Sources say that Blake created a way to change the incubation period of the virus to a fraction of the time, which explains why the firefighter exposed is already ill.”
The coverage doesn’t much change, and even some hours later, no one is answering their phones.
He tries Buck again. “I don’t even know if you’re alive,” he chokes out in a whisper. “God, I hope you’re alive. I hope you’re all alive,” he adds quickly. “I’m coming. The flight is in an hour and we’re coming to you. I’m… I’m coming to help.”
Help with what, he’s not really sure. Obviously, he wouldn’t be let into the building, and with his son joining him in LA, he’s not really keen on the whole idea of exposing himself to a deadly virus. But… he’s gonna help. Somehow. Some way.
Christopher shuffles out of his room with a bag and his headphones around his neck. His curly hair is somehow curlier than usual – the bedhead to end all bedhead – and he is ready to go back to sleep (on the plane).
Eddie kisses his head before nodding at the dining room table. “Sit,” he instructs. “I’ll make some toast and then we’ll go.”
He turns the TV off, a lame attempt at protecting the truth from Christopher, but it’s no use. He’s in the middle of buttering the toasted bread when his son reads a message from his friend aloud.
“‘The Department of Defense confirms one dead in CCHF exposure lockdown’. Dad, is that where Buck is?”
Eddie’s hands start to shake violently and the butter knife against the bread is a useless endeavour. He had to take the deepest breath he can bring into his lungs and hold it until he feels lightheaded. He finishes buttering the toast and drops it haphazardly into a brown paper bag. He crouches next to his son on the chair. “I think so, Pal. I’m gonna find him. We have to go, now.”
Christopher nods, expression bleak. “You get the stuff, I’m coming.”
The Uber arrives on schedule and Eddie packs their stuff neatly into the trunk. He texts Josefina to let her know they’re on their way to the airport, and after a few short minutes, they’re buckled in and being driven down an empty highway to the El Paso International Airport.
The TVs at the airport are all showing the news, and unfortunately, it’s the only thing the outlets are reporting on. Nothing new beyond what Christopher told him. He hasn’t had the time to fully process it, either.
Someone is dead. No one is answering their phone. He can hardly breathe.
Boarding the flight, the flight itself, and getting off of it was easy work. There were hardly any passengers on board, the attendants loved Christopher and tripped over themselves to get him juice and peanuts, and there wasn’t any turbulence. All things that would make Eddie happy if it weren’t all shrouded by the devastating reality waiting for him on the ground of Los Angeles.
Josephina is waiting for them with the biggest smile on her face, in spite of circumstances. After all, it’s been a long time since she’s seen her great-nephew.
She picks them up and drives them straight to her place, where she’s already made the couch up for Eddie and the guest bedroom up for Christopher. It’s not necessary, really, because Eddie isn’t staying.
He gets his son squared away and tucks him into bed. He’s a teenager now, and doesn’t need it, but Eddie’d admit it was more for his own sake than his son’s anyway. “I love you,” he promises him seriously. “More than anything.”
“I know, Dad,” Christopher nods sleepily. “I love you, too. Go save them.”
A tear escapes captivity and slides gently down his cheek. “I’ll do my best. Be good for Tia Pepa.”
“I will.”
He clicks the door behind him softly and heads to the living room, preparing to argue with Tia about sleeping. Instead, he’s surprised to find her standing in wait with a coffee in a thermos. She hands it to him. “To stay awake,” she hums gingerly.
He takes a breath of relief and leans forward to kiss her cheek. “Gracias, Tia,” he whispers gratefully. “I’m gonna need it.”
“Ay,” she concurs, watching him change into a pullover sweater. “It’s awful out there, Eddie. Los Angeles usually isn’t this quiet.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” he tells her easily.
“No,” she tells him seriously. “They’re scared. They’re mourning. Just… be safe.”
Eddie pauses to really take inventory of himself. He looks at her softly, her age starting to show on her face. Careful wrinkles around her eyes and heavy bags beneath them. Still a beautiful woman. Eddie was always closer with her than his own parents.
He sees her gaze fall behind him, distracted, and he turns to follow it and finds the TV. Taylor stands front and center of the feed.
BREAKING NEWS | Suspect Apprehended, in FBI Custody as LAPD and DOD Work to Recover Quarantined Firefighters
“My God,” Josephina murmurs.
Eddie takes a deep breath and turns to her, taking her hands in his. “Tia,” he begins seriously, “you guys are well away from the evacuation zone. But if things go sideways somehow and the zone gets even within a few blocks of you, take Christopher and go. It doesn’t matter where. Go back to El Paso, go to Vegas – hell, go to Canada. His passport is in his bag. Just go.”
“Eddie–”
“My will is at the new house in El Paso, okay?” he continues seriously. “It’s in a fire safe under my bed. I’ll text you the combination. My will is in it, all the paperwork for the house, and there’s a copy of both in the house here because of Buck.”
“Your parents still don’t know?”
He freezes. “No. And please, don’t tell them.”
She holds her hand up to swear. “I won’t. How can I explain to my brother that his son took them out of the will and put his best friend in instead?”
Thankfully, she doesn’t judge him. She’s known since the second he did it and supported his decision implicitly. Still, she doesn’t look forward to the inevitable conversation. Neither does he.
“Okay,” she says finally, breaking the sudden lull between them. “Be safe, mijo. You just got Christopher back.”
“I will,” he promises. “I have no intention of letting him lose me. I love you,” he adds gently, hand on the door knob.
“Love you.”
It’s an emotional goodbye, and as someone who’s literally been at war before, his body suddenly can’t tell the difference between driving to an evacuation zone and deploying overseas. Josefina is right, though. The energy is different now. The hustle and bustle of LA is quieter, slower. It’s dark out, but the city is usually alight with cars, buildings, and billboards.
It feels like the end of the world.
It doesn’t take too long to get there, and for some reason he isn’t expecting the perimeter of law enforcement blocking the way. It makes sense, but he wasn’t prepared for it. He slows his car to a stop as an officer signals him to roll down his window.
“This area is under a mandatory evacuation,” the officer shouts authoritatively, “you need to turn around and go back.”
Eddie shakes his head, raising his voice back to be heard. “I’m a firefighter with the 118, I have to get inside to help!”
“No one is getting inside that building right now unless authorized by Colonel Hartman!”
“Who the hell is that?” He doesn’t mean it disrespectfully, but he’s exasperated.
“Department of Defense!”
He freezes. “Shit,” he curses under his breath. “Look, that’s my team in that building! Call the fucking colonel and tell him I’m ex-military and can follow a direct order, but I need to get in there!”
The helicopters flying overhead are making hearing each other a nightmare, but the man presses his lips into a thin line and thinks for a moment. He turns to his partner. “Call Colonel Hartman!”
Eddie is restless, shaking his leg in his seat and resisting the urge to claw his eyes out. He waits for nearly three minutes before the partner returns and says something to the security guy in front of Eddie. The man back to him with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, man, but-”
Eddie loses it. “No!” he screams. “I NEED TO GET IN THERE.”
“You can’t!” The guard levels. “You need to turn around and get gone, or you’ll be escorted to the nearest police station – in cuffs.”
Eddie has a stand-off for quite some time before he grumbles and starts to reverse out, swiftly making a U-turn and heading away. He pulls off onto the nearest side-street and parks, then in a moment of weakness, smacks the steering wheel angrily. “Fuck!”
He blinks away the tears that haunt his eyes and instead pulls out his phone. He tries calling everyone again.
He tries Buck first, then Bobby, then Athena and Maddie and Hen and Chimney and Ravi. He gets nothing. The reception is bad here, he realizes, and his mind jumps to the immediate suspicion that the DOD or FBI or whatever the hell agency is involved has cut off communication within the cell phone tower radius.
It’s kind of a leap, to be honest. But with the media blackout, it makes sense. They don’t want this getting out at all.
He has one bar on his phone, and calls someone he swore to never call again – Tommy. To his surprise, he picks it up quickly. “Hello?”
“Tommy, hey, it’s Eddie,” he greets briefly.
“I know who it is, I’m just surprised you’re calling me. You kind of dropped me as soon as Evan and I broke up.” The way Eddie’s lip literally curls up in a sneer at ‘Evan’ should be studied.
“He’s my best friend, man. Had to take someone’s side, and obviously it was gonna be his.”
“I guess. What do you need, Diaz?”
“I need you to get me inside the perimeter of the SoCal Tech building,” Eddie says firmly.
“What? The lab explosion? No fucking way,” Tommy snorts. “There’s an evac zone for a reason, and that reason is biological warfare.”
“I don’t really care what the reason is, dude,” Eddie snaps. “The 118 is in there, someone is dead, and I can’t reach any-”
“Wait, what? Someone’s dead?” Tommy cuts him off, alarmed.
“Are you not watching the fucking news?” Eddie spits, irritated.
“I am literally having a bath, no I’m not watching the fucking news.”
Eddie takes a deep breath in a futile effort to maintain an ounce of composure. “‘Kay, well… I need you to rinse off and get dressed and help me. Help Buck. I know you still give a shit about him, if no one else. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead and I need to be there.”
“You don’t get it, Diaz,” Tommy retorts crankily, “The Department of Defense won’t let an unauthorized helicopter in its airspace. We’ll get arrested.”
“Then why do I hear the bathtub draining?” Eddie challenges him pointedly.
“‘Cause I’m coming, I’m just telling you it won’t matter in the long run,” the man answers shortly. “Meet me at my station.”
“Got it.”
It’s a bit of a drive, which only exacerbates his anxiety tenfold. He is practically vibrating in his seat at every red light. It’s always when you’re in a rush that the stoplights work against you.
As he’s nearing the LAFD Air Support building, he calls 9-1-1.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?” a voice – not Maddie’s, much to his chagrin – answers.
“This is Eddie Diaz, firefighter with the 118,” he announces clearly into his phone, casually omitting the ‘former’ that was on his tongue. “I need to be connected to a member of the LAFD that is actively responding to the SoCal Tech incident. Preferably Sgt. Athena Grant.”
He gets out of the car and sends a prayer to the sky that whatever happens to him doesn’t affect the car, because Tia Pepa would find him, bail him out of jail, revive him, whatever just to kill him again if he wrecks her car she so kindly let him borrow.
The dispatcher tells him to wait a minute while they connect him to somebody on the other end of the line.
“This is Officer Drowden, with whom am I speaking?” a voice announces calmly.
“Officer Drowden,” Eddie greets firmly, taking big strides up to the building. It’s lit up entirely but fairly empty. “My name is Eddie Diaz. I’m a firefighter with the 118. My team is inside the building currently on lockdown.”
He nods to Tommy as they see each other and close the distance. “Okay,” Drowden acknowledges him coolly, “and what can I do for you Firefighter Diaz?”
He and Tommy are standing next to each other now and he puts himself on speaker. “I need you to authorize a med-evac chopper to fly in and land in the quarantine zone for the injured and deceased.” The word burns on his tongue as he says it, and his stomach somersaults.
“That’s above my clearance, Firefighter Diaz,” the officer tells him. “Colonel Hartman is handling all personnel that enters or exits the zone.”
Tommy motions for Eddie to follow him and they head to the elevator together. “Colonel Hartman isn’t exactly taking my calls, Officer Drowden,” Eddie points out.
“There isn’t much I can do, Firefighter, I’m sorry.”
“You’re gonna need a chopper at the ready when my team is evacuated. I need you to transfer me to someone with the clearance.”
There’s some movement on the other end of the line and suddenly a familiar voice graces his ears. “This is Sergeant Athena Grant, who is this?”
“ATHENA,” Eddie nearly shouts in relief. “Thank God, it’s you.”
“Eddie?” Her voice is like silk. “What the hell are you doing calling me through dispatch?”
He actually chuckles, overwhelmed with happiness to hear her. “I tried calling your cell phone like ten times,” he explains. “I saw the news, I know what’s happening. I tried to get to you guys but the perimeter enforcement wouldn’t let me in.”
“It’s bad here, Eddie. What do you need from me?”
“I need you to get Colonel Hartman to authorize a med-evac chopper into the perimeter,” he tells her, repeating what he just told Drowden. “I’m on it. I need to get in and help.”
“There’s nothing you can do to help,” she tells him, her voice dropping slightly through the static. “We’re doing what we can-”
“Athena, I need to get in there. That’s my team.” His voice is firm, hoping the finality in his voice leaves little room to argue. Though, Athena is the last person he’d wage a war against.
“Let me see what I can do, Eddie,” she tells him then. “But give me a minute.”
“You have ten, ‘cause we’re on our way.”
“We?”
“Well, I need a pilot.” He and Tommy share a grin as they climb inside the helicopter on the roof.
They get their headphones on and their headsets tuned to the proper channel. He communicates with Athena to find the right channel to talk on, then they end their call. It doesn’t take long for them to get up in the air, then it just takes a moment to orient the helicopter facing the right direction.
“Thanks for this,” Eddie says, staring straight ahead.
“Sure,” Tommy shrugs. “I didn’t really have much of a choice, did I?”
There’s a hint of humor. Eddie smiles. “I guess there wasn’t. Sorry.”
“Eh, it’s fine. I’ve always wanted to be arrested.”
“What?” Eddie looks at him in bewilderment. “Why?”
Tommy laughs. “Y’know, a bucket list. Getting arrested sounds fun.”
Eddie just stares at him aghast, then turns away. “God, you’re white,” he laughs flatly.
Tommy says nothing at that, but moves on. “Anyway, things might be awkward with Evan right now but I don’t want anyone to die.”
“I mean… you broke up with him,” Eddie points out. “I’m sure it’s fine now.”
Tommy snorts. “I more meant because of last week,” he corrects him.
Eddie’s head snaps to look at the man. “What happened last week?”
“Evan didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Eddie demands impatiently.
“We hooked up,” Tommy tells him easily. “It was whatever. I actually–” he laughs at himself then, “I actually thought maybe we could get back together.”
“I don’t understand,” Eddie sucks his teeth. “You’re the one that broke up with him. Why try to get him back now?”
“You moved to El Paso,” Tommy says bluntly.
“What do I have to do with it?” Eddie retorts.
“God, you’re just like him,” the man sighs, exasperated.
“What does that mean?” Eddie is challenging him now, confused and irritated.
“It means exactly what it sounds like, Diaz,” Tommy retorts. “You were a threat to our relationship when you were here. Turns out, you’re a threat even when you’re gone, too.”
“This is crazy,” Eddie laughs sardonically. “Don’t see how I was a threat considering I’m straight.”
This time, Tommy laughs. Hard.
“Why is that funny?”
“Because it’s exactly what Evan said,” Tommy explains. “Like that fucking means anything.”
“God, Tommy, just say what you fucking mean,” Eddie complains. “I don’t have the patience for riddles right now.”
“Oh, my God,” the man shouts. “I was straight, too!” He levels his voice as he steers the helicopter to the left some. “Years ago, when I was engaged to Abby. I thought I was straight. I wasn’t.”
Eddie just stares at him, brow furrowed in confusion. “Okay…” he mutters. “But I am.”
“Look, Eddie,” Tommy shakes his head. “If you’re not ready to come out, that’s fine. I am not interested in being your fucking Yoda and walking you to some epiphany, either. But I recognize a lot of your behaviour because I did it, too. And yeah, when I implied to Evan that you were the competition, he hit me with the whole, ‘Eddie’s straight’ argument, too. But look,” Tommy adds clearly, “if there were no feelings, that wouldn’t have been his go-to argument. He made the lack of competition thing about your being straight, not his not having feelings.”
“What does any of that mean?”
“It means that if I moved in with Evan when he asked me, and weeks, months, or years passed and eventually you realized you were gay and came out, then I’d be chopped liver by the end of the day. I could have let myself be in love with him. It’d be easy, he’s easy to love. But it wouldn’t matter how much he loved me back. There wouldn’t be any room for me. You are his whole life, Diaz. You and that kid. So I put me first. Because he never will if you’re in the picture. He isn’t capable of it.”
The words hit him like a ton (or ten) of bricks. Eddie doesn’t think he’s gay. This seems like an entirely unproductive conversation, especially as they fly directly to a place where someone is dead and he doesn’t know who. It could be Buck. God, the thought nauseates him.
He doesn’t dignify anything Tommy said with a response. Both because it’s completely asinine to think the way he does, but also because he doesn’t even know what to say.
More importantly, Eddie can see the military perimeter surrounding the building, lit up like a Christmas tree. It’s terrifying to look at, even at this distance.
“Shit.”
As if on queue, Athena chimes over the radio. “Eddie,” she calls. “Can you hear me?”
He triggers the radio on his side. “I’m here, Athena. We get clearance?”
“Barely,” she tells him. “Colonel Hartman wants to see you when you land. How close are you?”
Eddie turns to Tommy as he flicks a couple switches on his control panel. “Three minutes,” he tells them.
He nods. “You get that?”
“Yep. I’ll be here. Look for the X.”
“Okay, talk soon,” Eddie confirms. “And Athena?” his voice is suddenly fragile. “Buck?”
There’s a pause. “We’ll talk more when you land.”
Eddie’s eyes flicker to Tommy’s and his blood runs cold. Oh, God.
They land in silence. There’s nothing left to say between them. Everything has become about getting to the 118, and they’re here now.
There’s an audience to their arrival and they are greeted formally by soldiers in uniform. This isn’t a surprise to Eddie, nor to Tommy, he suspects, given his history.
They’re about to be escorted to a nearby tent until Athena appears suddenly, intercepting them. “Hey,” she murmurs, closing the distance between her and Eddie.
“Athena,” he whispers, somewhat relieved to be close to her. “Tell me… tell me what’s happening.”
She urges them to follow her toward the tent. “Some moron decided to play God,” she explains, “and weaponized Crimean-Congo… somethin’ or other. She got fired, as she should,” she adds, disgusted. “And then stole the only vial of antiviral in existence and set the place on fire.” A soldier holds the tent open for the three of them to duck inside and she continues. “Bobby and the others were inside when the explosion happened and triggered the locking system. Now, we can open it,” she admits, “but by doing so, we risk exposing half of Los Angeles to a disease with an unavoidable side effect of death.”
He stops in his tracks. “I saw on the news…” he gulps. “Athena, who died?”
She sighs, her expression weathered. “A janitor,” she tells him. He tries not to visibly relax, because anyone dying is a tragedy and a crime, but he is relieved. “He wasn’t even on their floor. He was above it. The explosion was big enough to blow upstairs and he fell through the ceiling. No one found him for a long time.”
“So, the 118 is alive,” Tommy infers.
“For now,” she admits. “Chimney was exposed. He’s not doing well. Fighting multi-system organ failure. And Hen… she’s got a collapsed lung and the only person that knows how to help her is quarantined and dying. She’s stable for now, though.”
And Buck? He doesn’t ask, but the question lingers on his lips.
“Colonel Hartman,” she shouts over the group of soldiers. A tall man turns to face them, expression hard to read.
“Sergeant,” he raises his eyebrows.
The soldiers separate to allow room for them and she pushes through. “This is Firefighter Eddie Diaz and Firefighter-Pilot Kinard. They’re here with the med-evac chopper.”
He nods at them both but shakes his head. “That’s all well and good but we’re not evacuating anyone yet. And the list of terrorist charges I’m adding to your little station is getting longer by the damn minute,” he spits.
“What happened now?” she demands.
“The tall one stole a couple doses of the antiviral and ran into the building. Now, he’s ignoring the radio.”
“Tall one?” Eddie asks, not even attempting to mask the hope in his voice.
She turns to him and puts a hand on his arm. “Buck.”
“Buck was never inside?” Tommy asks, confused.
She shakes her head. “He was, but he got out with one of the victims just before the explosion locked them out. He’s been with me.”
“Wait, what terrorism charges?” Eddie scoffs, taken aback. “They’re not the ones who created an extinction level event for shits and giggles.” He is looking directly at Colonel Hartman now, and the death glare between them is unparallelled.
“They defied direct orders not to use the antiviral inside,” the colonel snaps.
“But the vial wasn’t even in the building,” Eddie counters defensively, then turns to Athena, exasperated, then back to Colonel Hartman. “The news already reported that you guys caught her with the vial. Therefore, it wasn’t in the fucking building. All you’ve got to charge them on is what? Opening a box that you said don’t open? Department of Defense or not, terrorist charges traditionally are meant for terrorists, Colonel. My team inside that building is scared, sick, and dying. If you were trapped in there with your family and you thought there was an antidote to a poison killing your daughter but someone who thinks he’s more important than you told you not to give it to her, you’d do it, consequences be damned, yeah?” Eddie is angry.
“Eddie-” Athena tries calmly before she is interrupted.
Colonel Hartman raises his voice. “Look, Firefighter, this isn’t personal. You have the luxury of thinking selfishly. I have to think about the good of the country. If I have to let your team die to make sure the disease dies with them, and save the city, the state, and the country, I will happily do that. Because I don’t get to be selfish.”
“Okay-” Tommy starts, taking a step forward before he is immediately restrained.
Eddie stares at him and swallows his emotions in a big gulp. His jaw is hardened and he has to keep himself in check. “None of this warrants a terrorism charge, Colonel. If Buck gets the antiviral inside and it saves them, then they can be evacuated from the building,” Eddie starts counting on one finger, “then deconned and treated. Then the building can be cleaned, restored, fixed. If it doesn’t fix them,” he takes a breath that feels shaky enough it might betray him, “then you’re off the hook for needing to save them anyway.”
“That firefighter stole intellectual property of the United States government,” Colonel Hartman booms. “At the very least, he’s getting a cell in supermax!”
“He’s trying to save lives,” Eddie argues.
“It doesn’t matter,” the man counters. “He’s trying to save four lives; I’m trying to save 340 million.”
Tommy interjects. “Just give him a chance to save them,” he reasons. “Why are we jumping to the worst-case scenario?”
“We’re in the worst-case scenario.”
Athena stands between them, her eyes instructing the firefighters to stand down. Eddie looks into hers for some sign of hope. For some indication that this is going to be okay. But she’s tired, she’s stressed, and there’s nothing of the sort. No light, no sparkle.
She’s scared.
“Eddie,” she murmurs. “Just… stand down. We’ll deal with this when we know more.”
He takes a moment before nodding. He backs away and turns around with his hands in his pocket, and she looks at Colonel Hartman.
“So, what do we do?”
“At the moment, nothing,” he tells her. His voice gets quieter as Eddie stops paying attention. “We wait to see if your firefighter makes it inside.”
If your firefighter makes it inside.
Eddie storms out of the tent, needing to put some distance between himself and the colonel before he earns a bed in prison. Tommy follows him out and they end up near the chopper.
“You gotta calm down, Diaz,” Tommy mutters hurriedly, low enough for only Eddie to hear. “You’re gonna say the wrong thing and get disappeared.”
Eddie is shaking his head, seething. “They’re trying to arrest everyone on terrorist charges,” he whispers, panicked and angry. “They’re fucking dying down there but they’re treating them like a sleeper cell.”
Tommy sighs. “You and I both know that it won’t come to that. They have zero control of the situation right now and are trying to scare everyone into submission. If that reporter is still mouthing off on TV despite her arrest, they’re not putting Evan in Guantanamo Bay for breaking into a building.”
Athena joins them shortly after, taking a deep breath. “Eddie,” she starts, “I know you’re worried. I’m worried too. My husband, my best friend, and people I care about deeply are in there. But we have to do this right.” He nods begrudgingly. Her head cocks to the side suddenly. “When did you even get to LA?”
He drops his face to look at his watch. He sighs. “Like, an hour and a half ago. Christopher and I took a last-minute flight.”
“Christopher’s here?” Her eyes widen considerably.
“He’s at my aunt’s,” he explains. “He insisted on coming in case… in case something happened. And he wanted to see Buck.” He can’t help the way his eyes flicker to Tommy, their conversation replaying in his head suddenly.
You are his whole life, Diaz. You and that kid.
She rests her hand on his shoulder. “Buck will be thrilled.”
He looks at the building before them and sighs. “I just hope they all survive.”
She follows his gaze. “Me too.”
Tommy interjects then. “So… where is Buck?”
She nods at the ground. “Maddie found some tunnels underground. Utility tunnels and whatnot,” she explains to them, her arm outstretched as if to illustrate. “There’s an intersection almost directly behind the building that can be reached from above ground over there.” She points southeast of them, a vague cluster of buildings in the dark. “He went in that way and is underneath trying to get in.”
“I need to go after him. I need to help,” Eddie tries, aimlessly taking off in a jog in that direction before Athena’s voice commands him to stop.
“Eddie!” she yells. “You can’t. They’ve already blocked it off. No one’s getting in.”
He turns around and falls to his knees uselessly. She crouches next to him, hugging him tightly. “They’re gonna die,” he sobs into her.
“Hey,” she coos. “They’re gonna be fine.”
He knows she’s lying, but he doesn’t argue.
She wordlessly gets his attention then, so he lifts his gaze to see her key her radio. “Buck, come in,” she says firmly. There’s silence on the other end, and she sucks her teeth. “Buck, I’m not with the colonel. I’m checking in.”
Static cuts the air between them, then: “I got all turned around,” a beautiful, husky voice growls through the radio. “It’s like a damned maze down here, Athena.”
The tears that well in his eyes are instantaneous. He looks at Athena, and then Tommy (who’s knowing expression makes Eddie uneasy) before averting his gaze entirely and focusing solely on the radio on Athena’s shoulder. She offers him a small smile.
“Just take it easy, Buck. Slow and steady.”
“I have to go fast! Chimney needs the antidote.”
“You’re only gonna confuse yourself,” she warns. “Take the time to do it right,” she repeats what she’d said to Eddie. There’s silence on the other end. After a moment, she continues. “There’s someone here that wants to talk to you.”
She pulls the radio from her shirt and hands it to Eddie. She tries to show him how to use it, but he already knows. On his knees, feeling more vulnerable than he possibly ever has, he clears his throat. Tentatively, he keys the radio and speaks. “Buck?”
There’s an immediate reaction. “EDDIE?”
An emotional chuckle escapes his throat and his voice breaks. “Buck,” he repeats, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s me.”
“Oh, my God, Eds,” Buck’s voice crackles. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“No chance I was leaving you alone,” he murmurs into the phone affectionately. “All of you,” he corrects quickly. Tommy snorts quietly, turning away.
The sound of Buck’s hasty footsteps sound as he keys his mic. “I’m losing my mind, Eddie.”
He purses his lips, fighting the ache in his chest. “Just…” he stammers, “just breathe, Buck. Look for markers, intricacies in the wall, a unique marking on a pipe. Find a way to mark the start of the tunnel at the intersection so you don’t go down there again.”
“I’m trying, I’m-” he cuts himself off. Eddie can’t hear it, but he envisions Buck centering himself with a big breath.
“Wait–” Eddie’s eyes light up, his grip strengthening on the radio, “your Sharpie. Use that to mark the wall.” His voice is steady.
“Why would he have a marker?” Tommy wonders, tuning back into the conversation.
Eddie barely spares him a glance. “He always has one,” he tells him. “Ever since the tsunami.” Athena ducks her head some in order to meet Eddie’s eyes, seeking further explanation. He doesn’t offer one.
There’s some grunting on the other side of the mic before Buck returns. “I got it!”
“Okay, Buck,” Eddie says soothingly, “just take it one step at a time.”
It’s minutes before they hear anything back. Eddie is on his feet, and he is huddled with Athena and Tommy away from everyone else while they wait. “Athena,” a voice rings out suddenly. A voice that isn’t Buck’s.
She yanks the radio away from Eddie and keys it. “Bobby?”
“Chimney isn’t doing too well, Athena,” he tells her, breathing heavily. “And to be honest, we’re on limited oxygen right now. It’s getting bleak.”
She looks at Eddie, fear in her eyes, a look he isn’t used to seeing in her. “Just… hang in there, baby,” she begs, gripping the radio so hard she might crush it. “Look, uh…” She clears her throat, gulping. “Buck is… he’s almost there with the antiviral, okay?”
They wait another minute, until:
Bobby coughs. “Chim just lost consciousness!”
Athena takes off in a run toward the tent, barrelling through with Eddie and Tommy in tow. “Colonel Hartman!” she screams, “the infected firefighter just lost consciousness!”
He doesn’t look nearly worried enough for Eddie’s taste. He presses his lips into a line and takes a breath. “Then it might be almost over.”
Athena’s face drops. “You cannot be serious.”
“As serious as a pandemic, Sergeant,” he says firmly. “We stop this now and cut it off at Ground Zero.”
“And what about Buck?” Eddie demands angrily. “He’s underground now trying to get to them with the antiviral!”
“If he gets in, he stays in.”
Eddie’s face contorts into something of disgust and anger. “Excuse me?”
Athena slowly brings her radio to her face, maintaining eye contact with the colonel the entire time. “Buck,” she says carefully. “Buck, come in.”
Buck speaks, but it’s labored. He’s been crying. “‘Thena,” he croaks emotionally. “He’s dead, isn’t he? I heard the call, I… I’m not gonna make it,” he sobs.
“I don’t know,” she admits. “Listen to me, Buck.” She enunciates her words clearly, staring into Colonel Hartman’s soul – though Eddie would question if he even has one. “If you make it inside the building, they are planning to lock you in. They don’t think the antiviral is going to work. They’re going to let everyone die.”
“What?!” Buck echoes, coughing weakly. Eddie can practically see it. “They’re gonna – they… How?”
“They want the outbreak to stop with Chimney.”
Eddie yanks the radio from her hands and takes a breath, wrestling with saying anything at all. But he does. “Buck,” he almost whispers. “Listen to me. You get in there. Come hell or highwater or a bed in supermax… you get in there. You get Chimney the medicine he needs. You save lives. There is no one better at it than you. You’re the best man I know, I… It’s gonna work. And if it doesn’t, if you get inside and the antiviral doesn’t save him… I will come get you myself. Maybe we can share a cell in prison.”
It’s a joke, but Colonel Hartman doesn’t find it funny.
There’s a beat before Buck answers. There’s a sniffle. “I’m here,” he announces, static muffling him. “If Mad- uh, Dispatch… was right, then there should be a door right about…” He trails off for a minute, the room going so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. Eddie’s eyes look between Athena’s, Tommy’s, and Colonel Hartman’s (who looks like he’s gonna arrest him just for the hell of it).
Then, and not a moment too soon, Buck shouts into the radio. “Here! I-I got it!”
The tension calcifies and Eddie feels like his heart is gonna leap out of his chest. Athena looks to him desperately. “Is there a way for your radios to be fixed open without needing to use a button?” she asks.
He bites his lip and shakes his head infinitesimally. “No,” he whispers.
“Colonel,” a soldier calls from behind them. They all look in his direction. “We have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?” Colonel Hartman demands, brows furrowed.
The soldier closes the distance and hands him his phone. Eddie can’t see, and can hardly hear at all, but he does make out Taylor’s voice.
“Sources close to the operation say that the Department of Defense intends to leave the quarantined members of Station 118 inside the SoCal Tech building to minimize the exposure risk,” she reports.
“Now, who the hell leaked that?!” he screams, banging his fist on the table. His eyes shoot up to glare daggers at Eddie, Tommy, and Athena, but Athena stands in front of them defiantly.
“Careful, Colonel,” she threatens pointedly. “Now, you know that the three of us have been in here, or right outside the tent the whole time. You also know that you have deliberately cut off communication with the outside world.” Eddie was right. “Don’t go blaming us because the news of your unethical defense practices are getting out.”
He shakes his head and steps toward her, toe to toe. She’s short, but stands taller than any man she’s ever encountered somehow, even in spite of the height difference.
“You’re racing to a cell of your own, Sergeant,” he warns. He storms out of the tent with a single file line of soldiers going God-knows-where.
They share a collective sigh of relief when they’re out of the line of fire and wait impatiently for a check in from… anyone inside. One, two, three, four, five minutes pass.
Eddie is climbing the walls… Well, he may as well be, at least. As the volume of the tent increases slowly as the DOD mobilizes, they opt to move outside again, and away from any commotion at all.
There’s nothing for a long time. Their minds race to the worst possible conclusions and Eddie is antsy. Where is he? Did he make it? Did he find them? Did he give Chimney the antiviral? Is Chimney alive? Is Hen? What’s going on?
Another five minutes or so pass. Tommy is leaning against a wall, Athena is stationary, and Eddie is pacing a path into the ground, sanding down his shoes.
Suddenly, there’s a static-sound on the radio, and they all lurch forward to huddle around the radio. Then there is nothing. No voice, no static, no footsteps. His hands are shaking. He keys. “Buck,” he pleads. “What’s happening?”
Fifteen seconds pass, then another crackling noise emanates from it.
“Buck,” he begs uselessly.
Static erupts again but is immediately interrupted by Buck’s quiet, raspy voice. “Eddie,” he croaks. “I’m here,” he tells them. “We’re just waiting to see if Chimney responds to the antiviral.”
Eddie is biting his lip so hard that he breaks skin, but he doesn’t stop. The pain helps keep him grounded, because he feels like he could float away at any moment.
“Buck,” Athena keys, “how is everyone else?”
“Uh, yeah,” Buck answers shortly after. “Good, I guess. No one else is sick. Hen is… hanging in,” he sniffles. “How long do we have to wait for it to take effect?”
She frowns. “Look, we just don’t know. But I can’t imagine it will take too long. Is someone doing chest compressions?”
“Ravi.”
“Good.”
They wait. And wait. God, it feels like all Eddie is doing is fucking waiting. He wishes he was with them all, even if it meant risking his life. He focuses for a long time on a spot on the ground barely illuminated in the lights around the zone. An ant crawls around a large crumb feverishly.
He feels like he’s about to have a panic attack.
Eddie notices then that Colonel Hartman is watching from a nearby tent. He is maintaining a level of animosity that would otherwise be impressive. Eddie pointedly looks away and drops his voice to a decibel that only Athena and Tommy could hear. “He’s waiting to arrest everyone,” he says.
She follows his gaze and rolls her eyes. “He’s gonna be waiting a while.”
“Guys!” Buck screams suddenly, his voice exploding in the darkness, “It–it-it worked! Chimney’s awake!”
Eddie breaks into a fit of sobs then, as if holding his breath and his anguish for a century. He collapses onto the ground, body flooding with relief similar to what he felt both when Christopher was found after the tsunami and when Buck woke up from his coma after the lightning.
He wipes the tears away messily with the sleeve of his henley.
“Thank God,” he whispers.
Athena nods, a big smile on her face. “Buck,” she keys, “you brought the PPE, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
“Okay,” she nods approvingly, “get everybody in the new gear and get Chimney and Hen prepped for transport.”
“Athena, are you getting us out?” Bobby’s voice chimes over the radio.
“As soon as we get you deconned,” she tells him assuredly.
Eddie is watching in amazement. It’s over.
Or, it would have been, before Colonel Hartman appeared next to them. “You don’t have the clearance to authorize the usage of the decontamination chamber, Sergeant,” he warns seriously.
“Then authorize it,” she snaps. “The antiviral worked. Dr. Blake is in jail. Chimney and the 118 are alive. You can now take credit for a cure to a disease that was previously in a bottle. You can be heroes. But only,” she steps toward him with the same cat-like energy of a lion hunting prey, “if you rescue my team and keep us all out of jail.”
“You’re delusional,” he snorts. “And out of your mind, if you think you can blackmail the Department of Defense,” he crosses his arms over his chest.
“It’s not blackmail,” she tells him. “It’s a promise. I will go to the ends of the earth to protect my team, and if that means I become a tell–all for Taylor Kelly’s next book, I’ll do it. She can get her news right from a primary source.”
He stares down at all 5 foot 3 of her and sighs, looking over her to one of his soldiers. “Prepare for decon,” he instructs authoritatively, motioning over her head. He grumbles as he walks by her and Eddie grabs her to pull her in for a hug tightly.
“You did it,” he cheers excitedly.
“We did it,” she corrects him. “Everyone is gonna be so happy to see you. Let’s go!” She motions for him to follow him and they run through the sea of agents in various agencies, beelining straight for the stairs leading up to the exit in which the others will emerge eventually.
Eddie watches as a group of newly dressed CDC personnel prepare to head inside the building and down to the sub-level currently holding the others hostage. There’s a flurry of activity around them, but Eddie is focused on one thing: Buck.
The sudden reminder of his conversation with Tommy in the helicopter hits him and his stomach sinks. Now isn’t the time to panic about it. He has to wait. Wait until everyone is safe and out of harm’s way. Wait until after he’s home with Buck – erm, at Buck’s – and there’s no imminent threat to life.
But he can’t wait, and he’s practically vibrating with anticipation as he stands there.
The sky has begun to turn purple as twilight graces Los Angeles with her presence, a gentle embrace after the darkest night Eddie’s had in years. He checks his watch, and his eyes bug out when he realizes it’s nearly 5:30 in the morning. It hits him then just how exhausted he is.
The first team heads inside the building and he’s hit with a new rush of adrenaline. “Buck,” he keys the radio gently. “They’re coming in. Get ready.”
“We’re good to go, Eds,” the man answers back.
Then, a new voice graces the airway. “I’m ready to get the hell out of here,” Chimney groans, and Eddie can hear the smile in his voice, albeit weak.
“Damn, Chim,” he grins, smiling ear to ear, “you’re throwing in the towel already? Quitter!”
He hears a chorus of snorts on the other end as someone keys the radio. “Yeah, yeah,” Chimney teases, “why don’t you come down here, Edmundo? Have a regular ol’ 118 reunion.”
“You can have your reunion out here,” Athena interjects, a twinkle in her eyes. She grabs Eddie’s hand comfortingly.
“Deal.”
After a couple minutes of silence on the other end, Eddie catches himself worrying again. It’s futile, though. Because the moment he starts to panic, another voice sounds in the radio. “We’re coming out, Sergeant.”
Athena lets a few tears escape her eyes. “Looking forward, Captain,” she murmurs softly.
Less than thirty seconds later, a line of people exit the building in a relatively organized manner. The convoy is headed and succeeded by CDC professionals. The first person Eddie sees isn’t a member of the 118 at all. Instead, it’s a harrowing reminder of what was lost today as a gurney with a body bag is pushed along. Eddie takes a brief pause to pay respect to the janitor that passed.
He then turns as Chimney is pushed out on a gurney. He is thrilled to see him, but even in the light of dawn, a purplish hue that has embraced the city, he can see how pale and sickly his friend looks. Ravi follows closely behind, offering Eddie a toothy grin as he follows Chimney. He is expertly maneuvered down the stairs and pushed directly toward the med-evac chopper, where Tommy is waiting patiently for his passengers.
The next gurney is Hen’s who is awake and holding Bobby’s hand securely in hers. They’re all sweating, Eddie notes, but he can see the exact moment the fresh air hits their lungs and Bobby takes the deepest breath he can as he walks toward Eddie, parallel to Hen’s transportation.
It’s when Eddie sees Buck emerge from the building, tousling his hair as he shakes off the decon, that his heart starts beating out of his chest.
It feels like slow motion, especially when Buck lifts the bottom of his shirt to his forehead to wipe the sweat from his brow, and his sculpted abdomen peeks out. Eddie has seen Buck’s torso a thousand times before.
But it feels different now.
They lock eyes, and they close the distance without any sort of elaborate show. It’s like coming home, literally, the way they bury their faces in each other’s necks and breathe each other in. “You’re really here,” Buck whispers emotionally, squeezing tighter as though to double check that Eddie isn’t a figment of his imagination.
“I’m really here,” Eddie nods into him sincerely. “And you’re really okay.”
Buck nods, too. “I was always okay,” he tells him. “Physically, anyway. I’ve been losing my mind for like, twelve hours, though.”
Eddie exhales through his nose, amused. “I couldn’t get a hold of anyone,” he explains, “and I assumed the worst.”
“You called me?” Buck wonders, surprised.
Eddie laughs. “Like, fifty times.”
Buck finally pulls away to actually look him in the eye. “Oh, my God,” he breathes, taken aback. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. I-I never got any calls from you.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay,” he assures Buck. “I realized after I got here that they jammed all the towers. No one could call in or out.”
“Shit,” Buck shakes his head. Then, after a beat, “you came all the way here to check on me? Uh, us,” he clarifies quickly.
Eddie flushes some, feeling the blood race to his cheeks. “Not just me,” he tells him with a grin. When Buck cocks his head in confusion, he continues. “Christopher is here, too.”
A whole new slew of tears erupts from Buck’s eyes generously as the surprise overwhelms him. “He’s here?” he weeps.
“Well, at Tia Pepa’s, yeah,” Eddie nods. “We can see him later. Right now, you need to get some rest.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep,” Buck confesses. “I think I’m going to have nightmares for months.” They look around at the scene together as the others are being assessed and shipped off in their own helicopters. Chimney is locked and loaded and they watch as Bobby is given help to climb inside the back seat. Tommy nods curtly at them and Buck furrows his brow, turning to face Eddie. “Is that Tommy?”
Eddie takes a breath, nodding, facing away from the commotion and leaning against the railing. He crosses his arms. “Yeah. I called him when I got here,” he explains. “I tried getting here in Pepa’s car, but the fuckers at the perimeter,” he juts his thumb, pointing behind him, “wouldn’t let me through. So, I called him because I know he flies.”
Buck just nods. “I’m surprised he agreed to help,” he muses. “Considering how we left things.” He mimics Eddie’s position against the railing, but does so across from him. They’re face to face, but the space between them is palpable.
“He still cares about you,” he offers honestly. He is apprehensive to say anything at all, but they’ve never been the type to keep secrets from each other, no matter how hard.
“Not after last week,” Buck murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip. The helicopter with the aforementioned pilot starts takeoff and the wind from the rotor blades whips through the area with ease.
Instead of waiting for the noise to subside, Eddie nods his head pointedly and raises his voice, still maintaining the gentleness. “Yes, after last week.”
Buck’s eyes open in horror and he stares at Eddie. “He told you?”
Eddie pushes himself forward off of the railing and toward Buck carefully, hands finding his pockets. “He did… the question is, why didn’t you?”
He snorts but there isn’t an ounce of humor. Only embarrassment and heartache. “If he told you everything, you’d know exactly why, Eddie.”
“It doesn’t matter what he said,” he tells him earnestly. “I know what he said, and I know what you said. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you and me,” he points at both of them. “That’s the only thing that’s ever mattered. No relationship can change that.”
Buck smiles, looking up at Eddie with the fullest, wettest lashes. His ocean blue eyes sparkle in the sunrise, and it takes Eddie’s breath away. “You’re right,” Buck agrees then, the huskiness returning to his throat.
“So…” Eddie starts again, this time a weariness to his voice that previously wasn’t there. The second chopper leaves then, and Athena is the only other one left on the ground below. “Do you want to?”
“Want to?” Buck echoes, confused.
“Be with Tommy?”
Buck nods, but not in agreement. He nods as though acknowledging what Eddie says, but somewhere along the line, the nod becomes a shake of the head and he stands from his leaned position on the railing as well. The distance between them closes a little more, and they’re nearly toe to toe again because, like magnets, they will always gravitate back together.
Buck licks his lips as he considers what he says next. “No,” he admits under his breath.
“No?” Eddie tilts his head to the side, confusion dripping from his lips.
He shakes his head again. “No,” he repeats, clearer this time. “I don’t. I don’t want to be with him. He might have been a dick about the whole thing but he wasn’t wrong. It’s you, Eddie.”
His heart doesn’t just skip a beat, it takes up interpretive dancing all of the sudden. “It’s me?” He can’t look away, but they’re so close that he can feel Buck’s breath tickle his skin, and he feels paralyzed – with fear, with anticipation, with love.
“It’s you, Eddie. And I know that you’re straight, and that’s okay,” he adds seriously. “And you’re in Texas, and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your life with Christopher. But, it was like you said. We don’t keep secrets. It’s you and me and Christopher. You deserved to know, no matter what happens now.”
The last part startles Eddie back to reality. “What happens now?”
“Y-yeah,” Buck stammers, the confidence and strength in his voice suddenly faltering, betraying him. “I… I-I just meant if you decide that you don’t want to be my best friend anymore-”
“No,” Eddie cuts him off with a finality that leaves zero room for argument. “Don’t do that, Buck. It’s you and me. No matter what.”
But then Buck kisses him.
It isn’t a far journey, from Buck’s lips to his own, but the distance could have been lightyears. It wouldn’t have mattered. He didn’t see it coming somehow, nor did he anticipate the way his stomach would go aflutter as soon as they connected. The electricity that courses through his body from head to toe and sends his nerves ablaze.
It occurs to him all at once that he has never, not ever, felt this way at any other point in his life, and it’s like coming up for fresh air.
For the first time in Eddie’s life, he feels alive.
Buck pulls away suddenly, the realization hitting him. He’s pale, the blood having fled his cheeks, and he just stares at Eddie with debilitating fear that he’s seen in him only once before nearly six years ago.
The sky is light blue and the birds are chirping by the time they move a muscle. They share a billion words in the silence and the zone starts to dwindle very slowly as the situation inside starts being addressed.
They stay on the bridge for eons, it seems, before Buck cuts the silence. “I’m sorry-” he tries to say, but Eddie is the one to cross the line this time, this time pushing Buck back against the railing and kissing him in return. This one is hungrier than the last, and Eddie feels like he’s being fed for the first time after a life of starving. He is insatiable, and Buck is beautiful and perfect and they fit so perfectly together.
He feels like a fucking idiot.
Of course it’s Buck. Of course it always has been.
They’re interrupted by Athena shouting to them from the ground below. “Boys,” she calls, unphased. “You guys need a ride to the hospital? I’m headed there now.”
They look at each other, matching shades of blush gracing their cheeks, and Buck ducks his head, the beginnings of a grin tugging at his lips. “Uh, y-yeah,” he shouts back. “Coming,” he adds even quieter.
They head down together in silence, the two of them tied for first place for the Most Awkward Person To Ever Exist, but they follow Athena like ducklings behind their mother as she struts out of the zone as if she owns the world (let’s be honest, she could).
She doesn’t bring up the kiss, nor does she shun them to the back, but they climb inside the back of her shop like a pair of children guilty of stealing the last popsicle from the freezer. They don’t talk most of the ride. Athena is busy communicating through her radio with Captain Maynard.
Buck and Eddie are stupid, and they’re riding a sort of high that makes the world look fuzzy and warm, and they don’t look at each other the whole trip, which is something that Eddie wonders if obvious, or if he’s just hyper-aware of the energy between them. They do, however, touch pinkies, a desperate attempt to touch each other without really doing so.
But Eddie wants to kiss Buck again, and this pinky thing isn’t going to cut it for long.
They get to the hospital’s emergency room in fifteen minutes, and when they get inside, are surprised to find Chimney in a bed there with Bobby, Ravi, and Maddie next to him.
He perks up when he sees the three of them. “Heeeey,” he grins. “You guys made it to the party.”
Eddie raises an eyebrow amusedly.
“He’s on a lot of drugs,” Bobby explains with a laugh.
It’s then that Eddie walks forward to hug Bobby, then Ravi, then Chimney. He even walks around the bed to hug Maddie gingerly, assessing her. “Look at you,” he beams, and she smiles back. “How’s being pregnant?”
She snorts. “It would be a whole lot better if we stopped almost dying all the time,” she chuckles.
“How’s Hen?” Buck asks then. Everyone goes quiet.
“In surgery,” Bobby answers solemnly.
“She’s gonna be fine,” Chimney promises groggily. “You did a super duper job, Bobby. Expert surgeon in the making.”
Bobby laughs, tears in his eyes. “I plugged a whole with my finger, Chim. You were the real hero. Well, you and,” he nods at Buck and Athena, “these two.”
And a few minutes later, the doctor comes and tells them all that Hen is going to be just fine, and there’s a collective sigh of relief among them.
It’s another hour before Buck yawns and Eddie nudges his shoulder. “Home?” he offers, a whisper for only the two of them.
“Christopher first,” Buck nods, yawning again. “And then, yeah. Home.”
They say goodbye to everyone before Eddie orders an Uber to Tommy’s station. He prays the whole way there that the man is not, in fact, there (and reasonably, he shouldn’t be), and they practically sprint from the Uber to Tia Pepa’s car. He peels out of the parking lot like a NASCAR driver.
Maybe it’s because he’s so happy, but he is floating the whole way back to Pepa’s, and gratefully, she is quick to send them all on their way. It isn’t because she wouldn’t have Buck inside – she considers him a nephew sometimes, too – but, because she understands how exhausted everyone must be, she comes to the car to kiss their foreheads, and she makes them promise to come back for dinner before they head home to El Paso.
‘Home’ and ‘El Paso’ in the same sentence is an oxymoron.
Or maybe Eddie’s the moron, because he’d forgotten for a moment that he would have to leave Buck here.
Buck and Christopher are like two peas in a pod when they reconnect. Choruses of “you’re so tall,” and “your voice is so deep now,” and “but you used to be so tiny,” come from Buck like clockwork, and Christopher just laughs every time. Eddie orders pizza, and his eyes fall on every intricate piece of Buck that he brought from the loft to the house, and he is in awe of how beautiful the house is now, a home instead of whatever it used to be.
The three of them eat and laugh and giggle and Christopher tells them both all about high school in Texas and a friend that’s a girl that might be more than just a friend and when he casually mentions one day moving back to Los Angeles, Buck and Eddie don’t mention it, but there’s a look shared between them that is full of hope and desire, because they realize then that it doesn’t matter where they live.
It’s Buck and Eddie and Christopher in this world, no matter where they are, and the rest they’ll just figure out as they go.
Eddie is alive now, and he intends to live.