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He should have died.
An entire roof fell on top of him. May could have lived – her odds were slim, but she at least had some on her side, the odds being Bobby’s body. Bobby should have died. Slabs of concrete two feet thick, rebar acting as if it was a dozen spears, everything that makes up a building fell on top of him, and yet he lived. A pocket just barely Bobby-and-May sized underneath the piles of rubble, taller than all the rest of the 118. It was incomprehensible.
Most of the unbelievable things they saw were pushed aside, left to be dealt with after hours. They always had another thing to do, another call to respond to, another person to save. It was difficult not to believe in something higher in their line of work, seeing as sometimes there just wasn’t an explanation for why someone lived.
Buck was crushed by a firetruck. He should have lost his leg, and then succumbed to the blood clots he had afterwards, or even when he split his entire arm open during a tsunami. Chimney had his brain pierced by a piece of rebar. He should have died on impact, and yet he returned to work less than a year later. Hen got trapped under a building during an earthquake. Lived. Eddie was shot by a sniper. And yet he still lived.
To say Buck loved his team would be the understatement of the century. But to say he was affected equally by everyone’s close calls with death would be a lie.
Standing there, watching Bobby sit and be assessed by the paramedics, all Buck could do was stare. Watch and imagine what would have happened if any of that had gone even slightly wrong. If the concrete had fallen just a little to the left or right. If the rebar holding the roof up had shifted just to the side and met Bobby with the same fate it tried to get Chimney with. If May hadn’t landed the way she did, or if she had tried to run just a little further, because Buck knew that Bobby truly saw her as his daughter and he would have done anything to protect her, regardless of his own safety. Clearly. He already did that, and he was lucky he managed to make it out.
Buck was lucky he managed to make it out.
He couldn’t live without Bobby.
Buck was special. That's what Bobby always told him. They started off patchy, when Bobby reminded him too much of his dad. Always nagging, always telling him not to do what Buck’s gut told him to.
Granted, his gut was… occasionally wrong. But not often enough for him to be told not to follow it. The rush of the ride was well worth a few wrong calls, so long as he didn’t mess up that bad. And he never did, really. Just a few close calls here and there, but what’s being a firefighter if you didn’t have a few close calls?
Bobby was strict about the rules, and Buck hated following the rules.
It took getting fired for him to realize what he missed.
Bobby took him back instantly, recognizing that Buck needed it. The boy that had never had a family, never had people looking out for him, finally had a place to land. People who cared for him. They love each other, more than most houses were capable of. The 118 was family beyond having a healthy work environment.
But Buck always felt different with Bobby. The fatherly feeling never went away, even after Buck proved that he wasn’t going to disobey Bobby as long as he truly felt like he was doing the right thing. He realized that that was just how Bobby was. A dad. And that was probably for the best, seeing as almost no one in the station had a good relationship with their fathers, if they even had one at all.
They all seemed good at maintaining their feelings around it though. Chimney wasn’t great at handling the disappointment he felt whenever he thought too hard about his father, but he was always able to push it down in favor of Mr. Lee. Hen’s relationship with her dad ended when she was nine, so she had plenty of time to work through that. Eddie and his father were rocky, but he barely ever saw him, and Eddie’s main method of dealing with his feelings was to not to, so it was barely mentioned.
For some reason Buck just couldn’t let it go. He and his parents were never on good terms. Even when things were good between them, it always felt like there was an invisible barrier separating them, with Maddie jumping back and forth between sides.
All he ever wanted were answers, and the day he got them, he wished he never had.
There was no one he could trust. No one he could go to. His entire family had been lying to him, he had sworn off sleeping with random women to satiate the emptiness in his heart, what else could help fix him?
Bobby.
Bobby was there, and Bobby put the pieces back together. Buck had never felt so secure, so safe, so loved, with anyone else. Even Maddie, when they were kids and she would take the brunt of their parents' anger, never made Buck feel… okay. Like he wasn’t a burden.
Afterwards, Buck had realized that the signs were all there. That Bobby was trying to get him to open up more. He hadn’t noticed it then, too engrossed in his work, but he sure did now, and he couldn’t deny that Bobby’s methods were strange. But he was too sad to care how weird they were, and for the first time in Buck’s life, something actually worked. He felt relaxed when he left Bobby’s place that day, a feeling he had never known before.
It wasn’t obvious when they went to work again that something had happened between the two of them, and that confused Buck, worried that it wasn’t going to happen again. He figured it would be okay. He didn’t need Bobby to sit there with him while he cried. He didn’t need Bobby to pull him into his lap when he started shaking so badly he nearly busted his lip open trying to wipe his own tears away. He didn’t need the gentle, yet tight arms around his body, holding him in place with a weight that didn’t feel restricting.
And he most certainly didn’t need the soothing words Bobby whispered into his ear, gently calming him with a steady, “It’s okay, Daddy’s here.”
Buck never had a Daddy. Maddie raised him more than his parents ever did, and she only ever called their father ‘dad’. Daddy was never in Buck’s vernacular. Before Bobby, he wasn’t ever sure he’d even said the word before. But it felt too perfect, rolling off his tongue as a name for his Captain.
Luckily for Buck, it did happen. Time and time again. Enough that they set specific times for it to keep happening, the random little sessions here and there not enough for Buck’s uneasy mind. It was relaxing, something both of them found themselves needing more and more as their jobs got crazier and crazier. Buck loved his Captain, but he loved his Daddy even more.
He was happy for Bobby when he met Athena. Buck knew that in no way was he Bobby’s first baby, and he was okay with not being his last either. May and Harry never said it out loud, nor did Athena or Bobby, but everyone knew that he treated them as if they were his own. Almost the same way he treated Buck behind closed doors. He didn’t mind sharing, so long as he still got his Daddy on all the days they promised to spend together.
It didn’t really cross Buck’s mind that Bobby was just as vulnerable as the rest of them in their line of work. Sure he was always terrified that something was going to happen to all of them. He almost didn’t make it back to work when his leg was crushed by a firetruck, and that had been the worst few months of his entire life. Eddie was shot right in front of him, and Buck’s heart felt like a bullet pierced straight through it. Chimney nearly died during Buck’s first few weeks on the job, just inches from death by rebar.. Even Athena’s near death experience on the job shook Buck up more than he thought it would, seeing as she was just as important to him as the rest of his crew was.
But Bobby was different. He was always at the front of everything, fighting for everyone to make it out alive and in one piece, and yet he always ended up with the fewest scrapes. Buck thought that he was invincible at one point, but he should have known better.
His heart shattered into a million pieces when he heard Donato’s mayday call followed by Captain Nash over the radio. Buck’s initial reaction was to freeze, but his instincts kicked in the moment he looked at Eddie, and then he was running.
He had no memory of digging Bobby out of the rubble. He didn’t remember finding him, or May. He didn’t remember walking them out of the building. The only thing Buck remembered was standing there, staring at Bobby as he sat on the gurney. The same gurney that he was usually at the head of, clearing a path for Hen and Chimney to get their patient to the ambulance.
Transporting was a blur. May insisted on riding with Bobby, Buck barely overhearing her explain to Bobby that calling him Dad wasn’t a lie to let her ride with him. He knew how that felt. Realizing that Bobby’s love for you wasn’t just something that could be explained away by him being a firefighter and doing his job. It wasn’t Bobby’s job to pick Buck up and put him back together after his family’s issues tore him apart, and it wasn’t Bobby’s job to make sure that May knew that no matter what, she was always going to walk out of that building alive. Those were just the things that he did for the people he loved.
At the hospital, Buck finally worked up the courage to ask if Bobby was alright. He was letting Athena and May have their time with him. They were immediate family, and Buck was just the boy that Bobby picked up and dusted off sometimes. He didn’t even truly want to know the answer, because if Bobby wasn’t okay, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle getting that news from a stranger.
But he was, and the sigh of relief that Buck let out was palpable. He could see people watching him out of the corner of his eye, whispering together while glancing at him. He didn’t care though, there was nothing that was going to keep him from staying and making sure that Bobby was alright with his own two eyes.
Athena and May came out eventually, letting the entire 118 crew know that he was okay, but he was getting an MRI for good measure. Athena took May home to change her clothes, but they would be back.
A nurse came out and informed Buck that Bobby was done and asking for him.
“Athena and May should be back soon, I’ll send them in as soon as they get here,” Buck offered, gesturing to the main entrance of the hospital.
“He specifically asked for an Evan Buckley,” the nurse repeated.
Buck rose on shaky feet, wobbling after the nurse who seemed to glide through the halls without second thought. He supposed it made sense. It was her job. He could navigate through burning buildings without even breaking a sweat, it was pretty much the same thing. Yet here he was, walking down the halls, waiting for his entire world to collapse, following the nurse with a slight smile on her face and far too much pep in her step. Buck finally understood why people got so angry at him for not being more upset during the more devastating calls. To him it was work; to them it was their life falling apart.
After what seemed like hours in the endless maze that were the hospital hallways, they finally stopped in front of a room. Bobby was on the bed, seated on the edge as if he was a family member waiting for the patient who was in the bathroom. Except he was the patient, and he had just been crushed by a roof, and Buck couldn’t believe he was even able to hold himself up.
“Bobby,” he breathed out, barely audible. The nurse next to him didn’t even hear, but Bobby’s head snapped up, always hyper aware of Buck. Of all of them really, but especially Buck.
“Buck,” Bobby replied, his voice level and steady, just like it always was.
“I’m sorry. I-I should have…” Buck trailed off as he entered the room, not knowing what he should have done, just knowing that he should have done something. “You shouldn’t have gone in there alone. I should have–”
“Now, Buck, this isn’t your fault. This isn’t anyone’s–”
“You almost died.” Buck was fully in the room now, the door still open to the hallway and the bustle of doctors and nurses behind him. “I could have helped you. I could have grabbed May, or, or… I don’t know, busted a wall down.”
“Buck, the ceiling was coming down anyways, there wasn’t anything you could have done to speed up the process. May and I are both alive, there’s noth–”
Buck interrupted for the second time. “But you almost weren’t!” he exclaimed, his voice soft and broken, the way it always was when his feelings were just a bit too big. “Bobby, you almost died. You understand that the 118 can’t live without you, right?”
“You can’t think like that,” Bobby told him, trying to wedge his way into Buck’s thoughts. It didn’t always work, but this was one time he couldn’t let Buck spiral.
“You understand that I can’t live without you, right?”
He was crying. Bobby knew that the tears were coming before Buck probably did. He could tell by the change in his voice that his little boy was starting to come through. And as much as Bobby assumed it would be easier to talk to the Buck that didn’t have all of his walls up – or nearly as many snarky comebacks – the hospital probably wasn’t the best place for that to happen.
“Buck,” Bobby tried, but Buck kept going.
“I can’t do any of this without you.”
“Buckley.” He raised his voice a bit higher this time, putting on more of a stern tone, both to get Buck out of his thoughts and out of his impending regressed headspace.
“You don’t understand what would happen to me if you were gone!”
“Evan!” Bobby shouted, probably with a bit more force than a man who had just been crushed by a ton of concrete should have. He groaned and clutched at his abdomen, hoping that Buck didn’t notice.
“Daddy!” the boy cried out instead, fully giving in and letting out the most guttural sobs Bobby had ever heard from him. He bridged the rest of the gap between them and crashed onto the bed, slamming into Bobby and making him grimace even more.
That didn’t matter though, because Buck was in his arms and suddenly the rest of the world didn’t matter. He wrapped his arms around Buck’s shaking frame, ignoring the strain it put on all of his wounds.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m okay. I’m right here, baby, everything’s alright.”
Bobby knew that he had a comforting effect on his entire team. He had sworn from the day he became a firefighter that he wouldn’t only protect, but he would be the lifeline they all needed. His lineage prepared him for this, it was in his blood to be a fire captain.
What he didn’t know was the joy that he would get from comforting this one boy in particular. Buck was so much different from anyone he’d ever worked with – so fragile, yet somehow the strongest person Bobby had ever known. He had a lot less experience than the rest of the 118, but Buck had the biggest heart out of all of them, and he loved them all and each person they helped on their calls with every bit of it.
“Daddy’s got you, Evan. I’m not going anywhere.”
Most of the time there was nothing anyone could do when Buck had one of his crying episodes, especially after a bad call, but he must have been exhausted. Bobby could only imagine how different it was seeing a part of his family nearly meet their end compared to a stranger that Buck had only met a few minutes prior that ended up passing on under his care. And while there was never anything that Buck could do – he was airheaded and impulsive, but he always ended up doing everything he could to make sure everyone had their chance to make it out alive – he always beat himself up over it more than anyone else.
Bobby took pride in how passionate his team was. And while he wouldn’t change it for the world, for Buck’s sake he sometimes wished that he didn’t feel so strongly about… well, anything. It would be much easier for Bobby if he knew that the state of Buck’s wellbeing didn’t bank on him being alive and well, given their line of work. There was no way Bobby could stop being a firefighter, especially now, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t considered it, just for him. Even the thought of taking Buck back to the midwest was tempting, where people were sparse and emergencies were less intense, less dangerous. He knew deep in his soul that neither of them would be happy with that, not if they didn’t have the rest of the crew there too, but Bobby was a selfish man, and he wanted his baby safe.
“Daddy gone,” Buck whimpered, his words catching in his throat a few times.
“Daddy’s right here, Buck. I’m okay. Daddy will never ever leave you.”
“Can’t promise,” he muttered. “Scared.”
Bobby sighed, knowing that Buck was right. He couldn’t promise that.
“What does Daddy always tell you, hm?” Bobby prompted.
It took Buck a few minutes, and even more sniffles, but eventually he whispered, “We can’t dwell on today because we’ll be too distracted to help people tomorrow.”
It came out all mumbly and wet and barely intelligible, but Bobby caught most of it… Some of it… Enough of it to understand…
He knew that Buck was going to say that. The poor baby was way too worked up to sound coherent, but that didn’t matter.
“That’s right, and that applies here too. Daddy is here with you, and that’s all that matters. Athena is going to come back and take you home while Daddy gets checked out by the doctors.” He could sense Buck’s inclination to argue with that and put a stop to it before it could happen. “I need my baby to be rested so that he can be Daddy’s little helper when I get home tomorrow.”
Buck giggled when Bobby tapped his nose, nodding eagerly. If there was anything Buck loved doing, it was helping Bobby when he was little.
“That’s my good boy.”
As if right on time, Athena appeared in the doorway. She hesitated for a moment, but the soft smile on her face, the same one she got when she saw just how good Bobby was with her children, told Bobby that everything was okay. Buck relaxed into Bobby’s shoulder as the adults got to talking.
“May’s insisting on staying here with you while I stay with him,” Athena told Bobby.
“She doesn’t have to do that.”
Athena shook her head. “You saved her. I have an obligation to take care of him while you can’t, but May isn’t going anywhere, and you aren’t going to be able to convince her otherwise.”
Bobby nodded, and then he looked up and really noticed Athena for the first time since she entered the room. “What?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, the way she always did when she was proud. “It’s the first time I’m seeing ‘Daddy’ Bobby.”
“Well, it’s your first time seeing baby Buck, too,” Bobby replied. “Are you sure you want tonight to be the first time you’re taking care of him? I’m sure Hen won’t mind taking him in for the night, or even Eddie–”
“He needs you. And the closest he’s going to get to you is when I pick you up tomorrow morning from this very room. We’re both going to be here as soon as we can. Plus, I’ve had two kids, and I know how to handle adult Buck. He’s already asleep, tonight will be a piece of cake.” She waved her hand dismissively in front of her face.
Bobby looked down, shocked to find that Buck was indeed fast asleep against his shoulder. It was a shame they were going to have to wake him, as Bobby was the only one who could carry the mass of muscle that was Buck, and he was certainly in no condition to do so.
“Evan, Athena is here. Time to go home and go night night,” Bobby spoke gently.
“Mmm, ‘T’ena?”
Bobby saw the slight wrinkle form between Athena’s eyebrows, as if she were melting at the sight of the big baby waking up.
“That’s right, Buckaroo,” Athena said softly, holding her hand out for the boy to take. “Let’s go home and get you tucked into bed for the night.”
They both expected the whine that followed, as well as the way he curled into Bobby’s side even further.
“The faster we get home and get a good night’s sleep, the faster we can get back to Daddy tomorrow morning. And then he’ll get to come home, and you can cuddle him all you want.”
Bobby knew that Buck was only listening because he was so exhausted. He just hoped that he would continue being too exhausted to act out for the rest of the night, for Athena’s sake. Her first time taking care of Buck was already going to be tainted by Bobby’s accident, he didn’t want her to think that Buck wasn’t the perfect little angel that he always was for Bobby.
He shakily rose to his feet to give both Buck and Athena kisses on their cheeks, and then, so that Buck couldn’t wake up more and realize that he was about to leave Bobby, Athena helped the sleepy boy step out of the room.
One last glance at Bobby with a confident nod assured him that his baby would be okay.