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It’s the first fire that they’ve been called out to in months, which is a rarity in and of itself. It’s the first fire that they’ve been called out to in months, and it’s bad. It’s bad enough to have four different houses on scene, the 118 being the second to get called out.
They had been lounging around the firehouse for the entirety of their shift up until this point. Hen and Chim had been somewhere, probably talking about their plans for after work, and Buck and Eddie were cuddled up on the couch in the least HR-violation-way possible. Eddie had just been about to doze off, Buck’s fingers carding through his hair gently, when the tones went off.
The fire was already bad when they got here forty minutes ago, and it’s even worse now. This is their third in and out cycle of search and rescue, Buck and Eddie working no more than ten feet apart as they scale the creaking metal staircase that leads up to the fifth floor residences. The building is definitely not up to code, with support beams that were the first things to crack and hanging lights that weren’t properly fastened to the ceilings.
So far, Buck and Eddie have led two terrified college-aged girls and a bald middle-aged man down the slightly swaying stairwell of the building, each trip becoming slightly less stable. Eddie is distinctly reminded of that first week that he had been with the team, that 7.1 earthquake that had led to him and Buck scaling an absurdly-angled slant of a staircase.
They got the order three minutes ago for all houses to make their way out of the building for good, the structural integrity having reached a concerning level. The man they’re evacuating has a nasty sprain in one of his ankles, maybe even a fracture, and Buck is shouldering the guy’s weight as they shuffle towards the exit. Eddie has been clearing debris, making sure that no charred bits of ceiling or dislodged pipes get in their way.
They’re almost all the way out for the third time, passing by doorframes and windows that have crumbled in on themselves, when Eddie hears it. He’s not sure how he hears it, what with the steady hiss of flames spreading through the very bones of the building, but he hears it nonetheless– something that sounds like a whimper or a cry, something that sounds small and scared.
His eyes widen as he whips his head around, catching Buck’s gaze as he stops in his tracks. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” Buck asks, breathing heavily as he switches his weight from foot to foot, readjusting the man’s arm around his shoulders as it starts to slip.
Eddie stays still for a moment, casting his eyes off into the distance as he listens for the noise again. He waits for a solid five seconds before hearing it again— definitely a person, probably a kid. “That. You didn’t hear that?”
Buck shakes his head, letting out an impatient huff as the bald guy’s arm starts to slip again. “What is it?”
“It sounds like a kid,” Eddie says, turning his head around frantically, tracing his eyes over every part of the room that could possibly be used as a hiding place. He mutters, almost to himself, “Probably hiding, they always hide.”
Buck casts his eyes over to their exit, a set of double doors that were wrenched open when they got to the scene, before turning back to level Eddie with a knowing look.
“Eddie, we’re thirty seconds from the exit, we can come back and look after we get this guy out of here.”
“They won’t let us come back in,” Eddie argues, he tenses his jaw as he looks back at Buck defiantly. “You know they won’t, they ordered everyone out four minutes ago.”
Buck just looks at him. He’s got a look on his face like he’s weighing his options, but they both know that they’re at an impasse. It’s one of the rare times where they both have a clear direction, and they’re not leading the same way.
Buck has to get this bald guy out of here, not exactly able to do another sweep of the ground floor while supporting the weight of an injured, full grown man. Eddie, on the other hand, isn’t going to walk out that door without at least doing a thorough sweep of the area, not when he knows he won’t be allowed back in to look for a scared, hiding kid.
“There won’t be anyone watching your back, Eddie,” Buck says, even though he already sounds resigned to their fate. “Please, just come back out with me.”
“You know I can’t,” Eddie states, sounding equally resigned. At that exact moment, both the guy who’s slumped in Buck’s hold and the ceiling above them groan loudly. “Go, you have to get him out of here.”
Buck only breaks eye contact with him to look up apprehensively at the ceiling, glaring at it for a few seconds as if he can see its dwindling structural integrity and absolutely loathes it. He lets out another huff of breath, sounding slightly shuttery, as he looks back at Eddie. “Please be careful.”
“Always,” Eddie responds automatically, nodding as he watches Buck start to turn back towards the exit point. Once they’re a few meters away, Eddie starts scanning his eyes over the room again.
Just as he’s checking behind the first child-sized hiding spot, lifting up a flipped-sideways and half-charred table, he hears Buck shout from the exit. “If you take more than three minutes I’m coming back in here to bring you out myself.”
“Yeah, okay, love you,” Eddie hollers over his shoulder.
Maybe it’s the thinning oxygen in the building affecting his control over his brain-to-mouth filter, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s already locked in on the task at hand, but Eddie just says it. Says it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. Says it like it’s not the first time one of them has said it since they’ve been together. Says it while he’s not even looking at Buck.
His eyes widen as his brain catches up to his words, turning his head to see an empty rectangle of light where the open door is, Buck and the bald guy no longer in view.
Okay. Maybe he didn’t hear it. Maybe Buck was also preoccupied with his own task at hand, getting the guy with the maybe-sprained-maybe-broken ankle out of the building. It’s fine.
He’ll say it again when he gets out of here, when he’s actually looking at Buck and when Buck doesn’t have to hear it over the crackling of fire and the creaking of brittle infrastructure. Of course he’ll say it again— he’s been thinking it for months, thinking about saying it for weeks. In fact, it’s been pretty top-of-mind since their first kiss, so it was bound to slip out at some point.
So it’s fine, and Eddie has bigger things to focus on at this very moment, like finding the kid that he knows is hiding somewhere in this room as it burns down.
He’s swiveling his head around, hoping that something will stick out to him. Just as he’s about to give up and turn back towards the exit, he hears a distinctly kid-sounding voice. “Hello?”
It’s quiet, barely loud enough to hear over the groaning of the building, but it’s the first clear sign that he’s on the right track.
“Hello?” he yells, doing his best to keep his voice from sounding panicked. “I’m a firefighter, I’m here to help you get out of here. I need you to wave your arms so that I can find you, okay?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie sees two small arms stick out of a half-closed cabinet door about fifteen feet away from him, starting to wave back and forth slowly.
“Good! Super good job,” Eddie says as he speed walks over to the cupboard. He opens it a few more inches, the kid fully coming into view. He’s small– small enough to fit his entire body in a cupboard that’s no deeper than two feet– maybe five or six years old. His hair is black and curly, his brown eyes wide, looking out at Eddie looking terrified.
“You’re okay,” Eddie says gently, holding his hand out in front of him, hoping the kid will take it and let himself be pulled out of the cupboard. When the kid doesn’t take his hand, he tries a new approach. “My name is Eddie, what’s yours?”
“Nathan,” the kid says, his voice sounding just as young as he looks. “You’re a firefighter?”
“Yes I am, Nathan,” Eddie nods, pointing out his helmet and his comms as he adds, “look, I have the gear and everything.”
Nathan looks Eddie up and down a few times, his eyes taking in the SCBA and his turnouts.
“Did you get separated from your parents?” Eddie asks, his hand still held out in front of him, still empty.
“I live with my grandma,” Nathan replies, and in his defence he is answering the question, just not in a way that gives Eddie any actual information that he needs.
“Okay, did you get separated from your grandma?”
“She has a wheelchair. I was trying to find someone to come help her, but the fire got too big,” Nathan says, his bottom lip jutting out.
“Well, it was very smart for you to hide in here,” Eddie says, the creaking of the walls around him getting louder and louder– definitely only a couple minutes out from a collapse. “It kept you safe until I could find you, but I need you to come on out now, okay?”
At that exact moment, a beam crashes down from the ceiling with a loud bang, sending a wave of red-hot embers scattering around the floor. Nathan’s eyes get even wider, shaking his head as he presses himself further back in the cupboard.
“Here’s the deal, I’m not going to leave the building without you. And you’re the last person we found, so I bet your grandma is outside, and I bet she’s worrying about you.”
Nathan’s bottom lip stays jutted out, starting to shake a little bit as he looks at Eddie’s outstretched hand.
“It’s time to come out now, Nathan, okay? I know it’s scary, but I’m going to stay with you the whole time,” Eddie nods again, his hand passing the threshold of the cupboard as he fully extends it. Thankfully, Nathan takes it this time. “Yes, good job. Okay, come on.”
Eddie helps him through the small opening, making sure he doesn’t hit any knees, elbows, or his head on the way out. He climbs into Eddie arms the moment he’s out of the cupboard, suctioning his body to Eddie as his wide eyes take in the room around them.
“You’re so brave, you did a great job, buddy,” Eddie says, looping his arm around Nathan and turning to look at the exit point on the other side of the room. With his free hand, the one that’s not hooked around Nathan’s back, he presses down on the talk button of his radio.
“This is Diaz, I found a kid on the ground level, we’re heading for the exit now.” He keeps it short and to the point, not wanting to waste any time.
If it were a straight shot to the exit then they would be out of here in thirty seconds, but because of that support beam that fell and crumbled into a wide pile of concrete and red-hot metal, Eddie is going to have to take some detours.
It’s a slow process– make it a few feet, keep Nathan secure against him as he moves debris out of their way one-handed, make it another few feet, repeat. All Eddie can hear is the roar of a still-steadying fire, the sound of Nathan sniffling right next to his ear, some vaguely word-like shouts coming from outside the exit. He’s hearing it, but he's not really listening, because it’s getting drowned out by his brain saying I’ll tell him again when I get out of here over and over.
Just as they’re about to reach the exit, with literally only one remaining roadblock between them and the open double doors, another support beam falls. Eddie hears the creak right above his head, looking up at the ceiling and thinking please just give me three more seconds. No such luck.
It crashes down unceremoniously, giving Eddie only just enough time to double over and shield Nathan’s tiny body with his back. He gets one single step in before the impact, at least getting them out from directly underneath where it’s falling. He still gets hit, though, and then everything goes dark.
***
When Eddie fades back into consciousness, there’s no fire and no kid in his arms– there’s just stark white, fluorescent lights that shine through his eyelids and the sound of steady, mechanical beeping. His head is pounding, but considering the last thing he remembers is a flaming support beam swinging down towards him, then a pounding head is probably better than the alternative.
He blinks his eyes open, keeping them squinted against the bright lights. A noise escapes from the back of his throat as he tries to sit up, his body moving sluggishly. He hears some rustling next to him, then the weight and warmth of a hand being pressed into his own.
“Hey, I’m here, you’re okay,” he hears, casting his eyes over towards the sound and seeing Buck sitting forward in a chair. “You have a broken rib and probably a bad concussion, but you’re okay.”
Eddie tries to talk, though he doesn’t know what he was planning to say, but nothing comes out anyways– just a raspy breath. He feels Buck’s other hand come to rest against the top of his head, fingers threading through his hair.
“The kid you had with you is okay, too,” Buck says, because somehow he just knows what Eddie’s list of questions would be if he could get a word out. Is the kid okay? Are you okay? Am I okay?
Eddie swallows, another shaky sound wheezing out of him, and instead of trying again to talk he just squeezes Buck’s hand. Buck squeezes back.
Buck shuffles forward even further, his face only a few inches away now. “You suck, by the way. For saying it when I couldn’t say it back. Just yelling it over your shoulder as I was literally running out of a burning building. And then of course you had to go and get knocked unconscious. You’ve gotta stop watching all those telenovelas with Pepa, they’re making you so dramatic.”
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows together, his slowly-moving brain taking a couple of seconds to catch up with the topic change. When he realizes, his eyes go wide– Buck had heard him. He tries to sit up again, tries to push out some words, but all that comes out is a sharp squeak.
“Wait, sorry, it’s okay,” Buck says quickly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against Eddie’s hairline, half on the skin of his forehead and half in his hair. Almost laughing, he says again, “Sorry.”
He pulls back, looking at Eddie in the eyes again. Grips his hand even tighter somehow. “I love you too.”