Chapter Text
The instant Buck wakes, he knows something is wrong. The air smells like sulphur, rotten and stinging to Buck’s sensitive nose, and the light coming in through the windows of his apartment is orange. Not like the soft tones of a sunset, but a harsh, almost neon orange reminiscent of the sun through the smokescreen of a distant wildfire.
His form already shifting, muscles tense and predatory, Buck sidles up cautiously to the floor-to-ceiling windows past the foot of his bed. He lifts the curtain with two tentative clawed fingers — just enough to see that the sky has changed. The fabric of the heavens has been ripped open like a tear through paper, and on the other side is a black that’s blacker than night. So black, the colour itself looks like a void. It’s positioned directly in front of the sun, allowing only the apocalyptic orange light to filter in around it.
Fear springs to Buck’s throat, and he immediately drops the claws as he unlocks his phone. He’s helped out with minor magical mishaps while out on a call with the 118 before, like the odd vampire in need of blood or a disoriented shapeshifter who got mistaken for a stray dog, but this looks so beyond his pay grade. He pulls up Fluttr, which is essentially a Community-owned, Community-run app for group chats. At the top of the app, a banner scrolls across the screen:
ALERT
SUPERNATURAL DISASTER WARNING: DIMENSIONAL PERFORATION
SEEK SHELTER IN A WARDED AREA IMMEDIATELY. GATHER ALL HUMANS YOU CAN
The Fluttr isn’t an official warning system for the magical Community — they don’t have such a thing, since they’re largely decentralised — but any urgent message by a witch will be taken seriously however it’s delivered. It’s the L.A. coven matriarch, Patricia Clark herself, who’s made the announcement, which only adds more weight to it. Upon seeing her name Buck realises the witch-mark between his shoulder blades is prickling, which just increases his panic. A quick scan of the group chat he's in for his magical found family, friends, and friends-of-friends provides no new information, so Buck swipes over to his mundane group chat app.
There, in the chat for his firefamily, he writes a message of his own: “Get to the station ASAP, and bring everyone you can. The 118 is safe. I’ll be there soon.”
Without waiting to see if anyone responds, Buck dials Maddie’s number with one hand as he shimmies into a pair of sweatpants with the other.
“Buck?” Maddie sounds frantic.
“Get Chimney and Jee to the 118. Call Albert, the Lees, and all your coworkers and tell them to go too. You’ll be safe there. Just go!”
“Buck, I don’t know what’s going on —”
“I said, get to the 118. Go, Maddie! Promise me!”
“Well, I — I promise, but —”
Buck hangs up before Maddie can ask any more questions, selecting Eddie’s name from his contacts next. He grabs his keys and wallet in the other hand, and dashes down the stairs.
“Buck, what —”
“Where is Chris right now?”
“He’s here,” Eddie says tightly. The relief that punches through Buck’s body takes the air out of his lungs long enough for Eddie to continue, “Do you know what’s happening? People are saying the world’s ending, but that can’t seriously be true, right?”
“It’s a natural disaster. A magical natural disaster. Get to the 118. Bring Chris and anyone else you can. I’m calling Bobby and the rest of our shift right now. Can you call someone at the station and let them know what’s going on?”
Buck automatically slips into the voice he would use if he were giving instructions to civilians at an accident scene. To his relief, Eddie responds to his tone by slipping into work mode himself, and a note of confidence re-enters his voice. “Yes. I can do that. Should I bring anything? Weapons, anything?”
“Don’t bother. Just get to safety before something starts coming out of that fucking hole,” Buck stresses, though he himself changes course towards his fridge. If he’s going to be useful to anyone today, he needs as much energy as he can get. Using his special abilities can take a lot out of him.
“Okay. See you soon.”
“Buck, wait,” Eddie says, and Buck has to bring the phone back to his ear. “How do you know all this?”
Never in his life has Buck regretted more not telling Eddie what he is. Choosing to end the secrecy about it would’ve been as serious a step in their friendship as proposing to him out of nowhere, but it would’ve saved a hell of a lot of time now.
“I have friends who know things,” he says instead. The witch-mark prickling more urgently between his shoulder blades reminds him that it’s not a lie. “Now go!”
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Buck dumps as much food as he can into a reusable tote bag he normally uses for grocery shopping. He dials Bobby's number and dashes out of his apartment.
⁂
To no one’s surprise, the roads are a fucking disaster. People are trying to leave Los Angeles as fast as possible, if they’re not going to some random location that makes sense only to them. Buck guesses that people may be trying to get underground, put a little more distance between themselves and the sickly-looking heavens. Metro stations aren’t warded, but old fallout shelters may be — if anyone can find them. Hospitals and places with sacred ground are safe right now, but Buck has to trust other members of the magical community to get their people there, just like he’s getting his to the 118.
He doesn’t know if the humans can see the haze of magic like an iridescent oily sheen spilling out of the void in the sky, but it’s obvious to him that more has been coming out. Every so often, shimmering little wisps of it break off and flit downwards into the city. Buck has a feeling he knows what those are, but he’s dreading the moment he finds out for sure.
By the time he pulls up to the fire station, he’s called almost everyone he can think of, and eaten a sizeable but mismatched breakfast that mostly tasted of ashes. With so many people diverted to the station by him there’s not really any space to park, but Buck says fuck it and just ditches his jeep in an alley. He needs to get inside as fast as he can. Though the wards will work if he’s not there, he’ll feel better manning them himself. As he walks down the street, he’s scanning every car he sees and sniffing the air without a single trace of subtlety, trying to work out who’s already made it here.
The minute he sets foot inside the protective circle, the witch-mark on his chest flares to life. Normally, it reacts to the wards with a gentle warmth at most. But as urgent as the threats to his heart are today, it’s no wonder that Carla’s magic is worried and ready to protect him.
Although the protective circle is big enough to include part of the street outside, nobody but Buck knows that. In consequence, all the humans have crowded into the building, and it is bursting at the seams. The loft is overflowing, and there are people downstairs using the benches in the locker rooms or just milling around, trying avoid crowding around the vehicles. Buck’s scenting and observing have informed him that Maddie, Jee, and Albert are already here, and so are Hen and her family, and Eddie and Chris. Thank god they all listened to Buck, even if it was because they had no idea what else to do. Josh appears to be upstairs, as do a few of Maddie’s other coworkers from dispatch. Buck hasn’t spotted Chimney yet, nor Athena.
“Buck!”
It’s Bobby who calls out to him, approaching at a quick trot, his normally-pleasant face creased by worry and strain.
“Hey, Bobby,” Buck says, soothed a little by the sight of him nonetheless. Bobby looks around and, seeing there’s nearly nowhere to get any privacy right now, opens the door to the engine and gestures at Buck to join him. Buck hops in, and Bobby gravely closes the door beside him.
Already anticipating where this is going, Buck speaks up before Bobby can ask. “It’s a natural disaster, Cap. That’s all it is. We should be okay if we just wait it out here. I think.”
Bobby’s brow furrows. “A natural disaster? Should we be out doing something?”
“Nooooooo, no, no, no,” Buck says quickly. “Gotta make sure the scene is safe first, right? That’s someone else’s job.”
“Who’s ‘someone else’? Who’s doing something?”
Buck pulls out his phone, going back to Fluttr. The chat has been utterly popping off since last he checked it, unsurprisingly. There are at least 200 new messages from the last hour, most of them from beings Buck knows only as casual acquaintances at best. After a bit of scrolling, he finds what he’s looking for:
Abby 🧙♀️: Mom and I have done three readings on the tear, and we think we’ve pinpointed the dimension it goes to. We can confirm that wild magic is definitely coming out. Sentient magic is probably next.
Ali 🧛♀️: You mean demons?
Abby 🧙♀️: That’s a colloquialism, but yes. We’ll need a lot of spellpower to close it up again. Any witches in the area need to head to the witch office right now. Even if you’ve only got a drop of magic. We need all of it.
Buck looks up from his phone. “Yeah, the… the cavalry is on their way.” He gives Bobby a weak smile.
Bobby nods, then hesitates for a moment. “This disaster. It’s not… it seems… unnatural. Supernatural, even.”
Buck gives a terse nod. “Yep. All the myths are true.”
Bobby pauses again. “All of them?”
“Well, like. Just the ones about people.” As Bobby continues to look confused, Buck squirms in his seat. Finally he stutters, “You know. Witches, elves, mermaids, vampires. A-and — and werewolves.”
Bobby shakes his head disbelievingly. “That seems like a stretch. How do you know? Have you seen one?”
Buck is really sweating now. “It’s not really — I can’t out anyone in the Community like that. It’s like being LGBT. There’s a culture — there’s rules and stuff.”
His canines feel a little too big in his mouth. He swallows, hoping it’s just his nerves and not because anything is actually coming out. Usually he has damn good control over his form, if he does say so himself. But these are far from normal circumstances.
After a long, long pause, during which Bobby studies Buck keenly and Buck fidgets with an awkward grimace, Bobby says, “Tell me why you brought all these people here. What’s so special about our station?”
Buck tried to think. “Um. There’s a circle of protection around it. It should keep people safe from the wild magic. And the uh. Whatever else comes. Out of the sky.”
“Right,” Bobby says. “And can just anyone make use of it?”
“The circle of protection?”
Bobby nods. The conversation is feeling increasingly surreal.
“Yeah. Yeah, anyone who needs shelter. Just don’t invite a demon in by mistake,” Buck says, trying for a joke. But can tell by the way Bobby’s eyes widen that he didn't quite succeed.
“Right,” Bobby says tersely. He sighs, shoulders slumping. “Buck. Thank you. If there’s anything else I should know —”
“I’ll tell you,” Buck cuts in, though he’s already doubting his own words. Does Bobby really need to know what Buck is? With Bobby’s first exposure to the supernatural being the sky opening up and possibly demons coming out, surely he wouldn’t take the news well. Would he be able to accept Buck at all? Would Maddie still love him, or Eddie want to look at him again — if they found out Buck is a werewolf?