Chapter Text
Loneliness was a feeling Buck had become accustomed to.
He had always felt alone, really.
But now? He felt it tenfold. Just when he had begun to have a life; a family, he went and screwed it all up.
He knows he shouldn't have been so impulsive, but old habits die hard.
His routine had become fairly monotonous:
Wake up
Go to work(Avoid everyone)
Come home
Microwave dinner
Gym
Sleep (if possible)
Repeat
Buck was happy to keep things this way until his family either forgave him or completely disowned him.
It was a normal work day. He had been left as man behind and told to do the icky chores nobody else wanted, which he accepted smilingly, when he got the call.
“Hello?” He said as he picked up, not recognising the number.
“Hi, am I speaking to a Mr. Evan Buckley?” an unknown voice replied, causing Buck to stand a little straighter.
“Yeah, can I ask who’s calling?” He said.
"Mr. Buckley, my name is Dr. Reynolds. I'm calling from Cedars Sinai. Is this a good time to speak?"
The formality in the doctor's voice immediately put him on edge. Buck straightened. Hospitals didn't call people with good news, and there was something about the careful tone that made his stomach tighten. He searched his brain for a reason someone from a hospital would be calling him, but came up empty.
"Yeah," he said slowly. "What's this about?"
"I'm calling regarding Kameron and Connor Riley."
Buck blinked in surprise. It had been years since he'd heard either of those names spoken aloud. After their son had been born (on Buck’s very own couch,) their lives had naturally gone in different directions. There had been a few messages exchanged in the beginning, a couple of photographs sent during the first few months, but eventually the contact faded away, mainly from Buck’s own fears, and he ended up ghosting them. Whoops.
Hearing their names now felt strange enough that it took him a moment to respond.
"What about them?"
The doctor's voice softened.
"I'm very sorry to inform you that they were involved in a serious motor vehicle accident yesterday evening. Despite extensive efforts by our trauma team, and the paramedics on the scene, both patients succumbed to their injuries minutes after they arrived."
For several seconds, Buck didn't understand the words. Motor vehicle accident? Succumbed to their injuries?
"No," he whispered.
The doctor continued speaking, but Buck could barely hear him over the rushing sound filling his ears. Kameron and Connor were dead. The couple who had trusted him enough to help them start a family. The people who had been so excited about becoming parents that they practically glowed whenever they talked about the future. They couldn't be dead. It didn't make sense.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Buckley."
Buck dragged a hand across his face, trying desperately to get his thoughts back under control. Then another realization struck him.
"The baby," he said. "Their son. Was he with them?"
The doctor hesitated.
"No. Theo was not involved in the accident."
Relief hit Buck so hard that his knees nearly gave out. At least the kid was okay. Theo, he said to himself, his name was Theo. Theo had to be three now, maybe almost four. Buck wasn't entirely sure. He hadn't seen him since he was an infant, but he remembered the sight of the newborn. Tiny fingers wrapped around his thumb. A sleepy newborn bundled in a blue blanket. Him turning away when they got to the hospital, knowing that if he saw that boy for any longer, he wouldn’t be able to say goodbye.
"Thank God," Buck breathed.
"There is another reason we're contacting you, Mr. Buckley."
The relief disappeared almost immediately.
"What reason?"
The doctor's voice became even more cautious.
"When emergency services were unable to locate any immediate family members, hospital administration reviewed the legal documentation on file. According to the guardianship paperwork submitted by Mr. and Mrs. Riley, you are listed as Theo's legal guardian in the event of their deaths."
Buck stared at the wall.
For a moment, he honestly wondered if he'd misheard.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"You are designated as Theo's primary guardian."
His breathing hitched. Was he dreaming? This had to be a dream.
"No," he said automatically. "That can't be right. There has to be some mistake."
"There is no mistake, Mr. Buckley. The documents were reviewed by both hospital administration and the family's attorney this morning."
Buck's pulse pounded in his ears. Nothing about this made sense. Kameron and Connor hadn't spoken to him in years. They hadn't called him when Theo started school. They hadn't invited him to birthdays or holidays. As far as Buck knew, he was nothing more than a guy who had donated sperm to help two friends become parents.
Then the doctor delivered the final blow.
"The documentation also notes that you are Theo's biological father through sperm donation. As his designated guardian, we need to discuss immediate custody arrangements."
Buck felt every ounce of air leave his lungs.
Biological father.
The words hit differently now than they had four years ago. Back then, the donation had been clinical, if not rushed. He remembers how fast he ran to get to the clinic, how excited he was to help Connor after Connor had helped him find his real passion in LA. He had never thought of himself as Theo's father because Theo already had parents. Good parents. Loving parents. The role he'd played in creating that family had always been miniscule, a small helping hand, nothing more.
But now Kameron and Connor were gone.
And suddenly there was a four-year-old boy somewhere in the city who had lost everything overnight.
Buck pressed his hand over his eyes. He didn't know Theo. Not really. He couldn't tell anyone what the kid's favorite color was. He didn't know if he liked dinosaurs or superheroes or cartoons. He didn't know whether he was shy around strangers like Kam, or loud and outgoing like he was. There was an entire little person out there whose life was somehow connected to his, and Buck knew almost nothing about him.
"What happens now?" he asked quietly.
The doctor's answer was gentle.
"Right now, Theo is being cared for by emergency placement services while we contact you. Given your status as legal guardian, the next step would be for you to meet with social services and discuss temporary custody arrangements."
Buck looked down at the concrete of the locker room. Earlier, he had been dreading washing the dishes, wishing he was anywhere but the station that he so desperately fought to stay in.
Now two people were dead.
And a child he had never expected to meet again was waiting for someone to come for him.
Buck swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.
"When can I see him?"
The doctor sounded relieved.
"As soon as you're able to come in."
Buck closed his eyes.
Fear curled tightly in his chest. He had no idea how to be what Theo needed. He had no idea what came next or whether he was capable of carrying the responsibility Kameron and Connor had left behind. But one thought was louder than the rest: Theo had already lost enough.
No matter how scared Buck was, he wasn't going to let the kid face this alone.
"I'm on my way," he said, hanging up the phone and just staring at the wall.
He groaned loudly, punching his locker as he closed it. Not hard enough to dent it, but hard enough for him to feel something. He had grabbed his worn duffel that always had the essentials stocked in case of emergency, which, with his job, was often.
“What's your issue, Buckley?” Bobby said, announcing his presence from the sidelines. “What's with the bag?”
Buck sighed, having hoped not to run into his Captain.
“Thing came up, gotta go. I have enough sick leave to cover me,” He mumbled, trying to push past.
“Not a good enough excuse, Buckley. How can I know you're not just slacking off?” Bobby asked, knowing it was a low blow. Buck flinched back, taking a minute to compose himself.
“Look, Captain Nash, I don't have to explain myself to you,” He started, motioning to move past him again. “I really need to go,” He tried to explain, his head lowered to show he wasn't trying to be agressive.
Bobby tried to start into a lecture about workplace etiquette, which was subsequently ignored by Buck as he pushed past and walked out of the locker room and towards his Jeep, directly in view of his team, their eyes locked on him.
It took a lot not to scream as soon as he got into his Jeep, but he withheld and drove to the hospital, drowning out his thoughts with the trending pop music emitting from the radio.
The drive to the hospital passed in a haze that Buck would barely remember later. His hands remained locked around the steering wheel while his mind replayed the phone call over and over again, as though repeating it enough times might somehow make it make sense. Kameron and Connor were dead. The words felt wrong every time they crossed his mind. Four years ago they had been so excited about becoming parents . Now they were gone, and somehow he was the one being called.
By the time he parked outside the hospital, his stomach was in knots. The automatic doors slid open as he approached, releasing a familiar mixture of antiseptic and citrus that he was all too familliar with. He’d been the patient enough times that being the visitor felt weird and wrong and he hated it. He hated all of it.
The woman at reception recognized his name immediately. Something flickered across her face, and Buck looked away before he could identify it. She made a quick phone call and told him someone would be with him shortly. He thanked her automatically and moved toward a row of chairs in the waiting area, feeling like he was running on autopilot as his mind drifted to his previous hospital stays.
Sitting still only made everything worse.
His thoughts drifted again, against his will, toward the people he would usually call in a situation like this. Eddie. Maddie. Bobby. Eddie. Hen. Chimney. Eddie. Any one of them would have answered immediately. There had been a time when he wouldn't have hesitated to pick up the phone. But things weren't like that anymore. The lawsuit was gone, dropped before it could do any more damage, yet the distance remained. Conversations were strained. His attempts at reconcilliation deflected. Every shift felt like stepping into a room where nobody quite knew what to do with him anymore.
The bitterness surprised him with its intensity. He was sitting in a hospital after learning that two people had died, and somehow he was still angry. Angry that he was here alone. Angry that the first instinct he'd had was to call people who no longer felt like his. Angry that the team he'd once considered family wasn't standing beside him when his entire world had just tilted sideways.
A social worker found him a few minutes later. She introduced herself as Sarah and led him through a maze of hallways that seemed far too quiet compared to the chaos of the emergency department. As they walked, she explained that Theo was safe, that he'd been cooperative, that he'd spent most of the morning drawing. Buck nodded whenever she paused, but very little of what she said actually registered. The closer they got, the harder it became to breathe.
When they finally stopped outside a small conference room, Sarah rested a hand lightly against the door.
"He's in here."
Buck stared at the handle.
This was ridiculous. He'd run into burning buildings without a second thought. He'd crawled beneath collapsed structures and cut people from wrecked cars. Yet his pulse was hammering against his ribs because there was a four-year-old on the other side of a door.
A child who, according to a stack of legal documents Buck had never seen, now belonged in his care, who didn’t even know who Buck was.
Sarah opened the door before he could lose his nerve.
The room was small and brightly lit. A box of crayons sat open on a low table near the window, and seated beside it was a little boy with dark blond hair and a blue sweater. His legs swung absently beneath the chair while he concentrated on the picture in front of him.
Buck could only stare.
This was Theo.
Not the baby he'd seen once in his arms in their share house four years ago.
Theo glanced up at the sound of the door opening. His eyes landed on Buck for a brief second before dropping away again. There was no recognition there. Why would there be? To Theo, Buck was just another stranger walking into a room full of strangers.
Sarah crouched beside the boy and spoke softly. "Theo, this is Evan. He came to see you."
Theo looked at him again, this time with mild curiosity. Buck opened his mouth, only to realize he had absolutely no idea what to say. Nothing seemed appropriate. How was he supposed to introduce himself? How was he supposed to explain any of this when he barely understood it himself?
The silence stretched awkwardly between them until Theo reached into the crayon box and selected a blue crayon. Without saying a word, he pushed it across the table toward Buck.
Buck blinked.
Theo shrugged, as though the answer should have been obvious.
"I'm colouring."
For the first time all day, something inside Buck eased.
“Cool,” He said. “Nice to meet you ‘colouring’, people call me Buck.”