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“9-1-1, what’s the address of your emergency?” Josh’s voice is a dull thrum over the line, he knows he needs to pick up the tone, be more present for the call, but today’s been—a day. And Maddie hasn’t texted in over two hours with any updates, so he’s distracted. He’s fully present, just like every other operator in the call center, but he’s distracted.
“Hello.”
It’s a child.
He sits up straighter, focus zeroing in on his screen and keyboard. Judging by the voice the child’s young—younger than Jee, at least.
“Hello,” Josh says, forcing a lightness to his voice that he hopes gives trusted adult and not stranger danger. It’s two in the morning. Whatever’s going on, this kid needs a trusted adult. “Are you okay?”
The kid sniffs in the other side of the line. That’s a no, then. He mutes himself, dialing into PD and alerting them there’s a child in need and to standby, just as the kid says, “No,” like he’s not sure what else to say. He snuffles again, and Josh opens his line back up again.
“That’s okay. You called the right number. You know how to listen to your parents, huh? They told you to call this number if you’re ever in danger?” The kid makes a sad little noise, and Josh types child in distress.
“Uh huh.”
“That’s good. What’s your name?”
He sniffles, “Th—Theo.”
“Hi, Theo. I’m Josh. I’m going to help you, okay?”
“Okay.”
He types; Name: Theo next to child in distress.
“Can you tell me how old you are, Theo?”
“Y—yeah.”
Josh waits. Doesn’t get a response. “Theo?”
“Yeah?”
Right.
Child. He’s talking to a child.
“That’s good,” he says, shaking his head at himself. He needs to spend more time with his nephews. “How old are you, Theo?”
“F—five.”
Theo, 5. Child in distress.
Something at the back of Josh’s head sounds an alarm, but that’s tomorrows problem. Whatever little Theo reminds him of can wait until he’s safe.
“You’re a very brave five year old, Theo. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Theo makes a disgruntled little noise.
Josh stills. “Theo? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“He didn’t come home.” He stutters his way through the sentence, like it’s the scariest thing he’s ever said. Like he’s forcing himself to say it but doesn’t understand why it’s so scary, just that it is. Josh frowns at the screen in response. Tentatively types, possibly abandoned.
Jesus. What the hell is wrong with people these days?
“Who didn’t come home, Theo? Your dad?”
Theo, 5. Child in distress. Possibly abandoned.
The radio crackles with acknowledgment as Theo exhales shakily. It’s wet, like he’s building up all the courage his little body has to offer. “My Buck.”
“Your—“
Josh cuts himself off.
Theo, 5. Child in distress. Possibly abandoned?
“Your Buck?” He asks, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Theo sniffles. “He—he said if I’m ever scared to call 9-1-1 and he’ll come right away.” He sniffles, asks, “Mr. Josh can you make my Buck co—come home, please?”
He hits the backspace button several times.
Theo, 5. Child in distress.
“Theo, is anyone home with you?”
He knows someone is. Because he knows Theo. He adds the information to the block.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress.
Theo sniffs. “Eddie and Chris.” He makes a noise and adds quietly, “They sleepin’.”
Yeah. That checks out. He’s not sure who he expected Buck would have watch Theo in the event of—well, this—but Diaz is absolutely the obvious choice. Coparenting child number two and still playing the platonic card. Josh could never.
He looks over at Linda and makes a face, mouthing: call Maddie. She raises an eyebrow, which, fair, her brother is in the hospital, but this is technically her nephew on the line unsupervised so maybe let’s not assume Josh is trying to get her to work right now, yeah? Linda sighs and turns to her phone.
“My Buck promised to always come home, Mr. Josh. But he didn’t come home. Can you tell him to come home.”
Josh pictures the little boy Buck brought into dispatch a few weeks ago. Knows the child crying on the other end of the call is him, but still can’t slice the two images together. Buck’s Theo is wild and rambunctious and happy. This Theo is—the product of his parents dying unexpectedly and his caregiver not coming home.
Theo thinks Buck’s not coming home.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress. Breaking Josh’s heart.
He doesn’t type it. Not that it wouldn’t be accurate.
“I’ll tell you what,” Josh says,clearing his throat and leaning forward. “How about you go wake up Dia—Eddie, and I’ll bet he can take you to your Buck.”
Theo’s quiet for a beat. “He can?” There’s a little uptick in his voice, the slightest give for hope, and Josh ignores the way it makes his heart pang with remorse in favor of being the reliable 9-1-1 voice he’s been trained to be.
“Let’s go wake him up, Theo. I’ll stay on the phone just in case he says he can’t. How’s that sound?”
Theo sniffs. “He’s sad,” He whispers, like it’s a secret. “He’s sad like Buck was when mommy and daddy’s car hurt them.” There’s a shuffling on the line, though, like he’s getting up and listening to Josh’s request. “Mommy and daddy didn’t come home.”
Jesus.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress. 9-1-1 operator in distress. Send everyone.
Josh listens to an immeasurable amount of tragedy in a day. This might actually be the one to break him. Grief in a child’s voice is something unlike any other. It tugs at his heartstrings in the most devastating way, and this little boy is particularly devastating, knowing his history. If Maddie doesn’t kill Buck for being reckless on that last call of his shift, Josh might.
He wants to promise that Buck will come home, but he hasn’t heard anything since Maddie’s last text that said Buck’s in surgery.
There’s a creak of a door on the line.
“Do you promise my Buck will come home, Mr. Josh?”
Okay. Moral crossroads. Promise the devastated little boy his caregiver will come home and give him a little bit of hope while posing the risk of breaking his heart in the very near future or—
Let Diaz do it.
Not quite the trolley problem it started out as, actually.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress. 9-1-1 operator morally dubious. Tell nobody.
“I promise Eddie will do everything he can to make sure he does. Let’s wake him up, okay, Theo?”
“Okay.”
There’s a muffled groan, a quiet, confused, “Theo?”
“Mr. Josh says you can make Buck come home.”
Hm. Okay. That’s not—exactly what Josh said, Theo. Diaz already doesn’t like him, let’s not spread lies and reheat this beef? Especially with Buck—Diaz is probably testier than normal.
He can practically hear Diaz processing the statement.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress. 9-1-1 operator, age undisclosed. In danger.
“Mr. Josh?” He asks, eventually. And Josh can hear the frown in his voice—he can also hear the ragged roughness that comes from hours of crying alone in bed. He wouldn’t say he’s intimately familiar with it, but he’d say they’re close enough to passing acquaintances that he can identify it by the sound of the crackle of Diaz’s breathing, for sure.
Sometimes Josh thinks he and Maddie are imagining the very real, very palpable homoerotic tension between the two of them—Buck and Eddie. But then Buck goes and gets himself almost killed to save Eddie, and Eddie’s on the phone hours later sounding like he hasn’t stopped crying since it happened and honestly it gets to a point.
Theo must hand the phone to him, because Diaz’s voice is crackling down the line and asking, “Mr. Josh promised I could make Buck come home?”
“To be fair I said you’d try, I didn’t promise, and what else was I supposed to say?”
“Why are you—“ He cuts himself off like it physically pains him to do so, and asks, “Theo, did you call 9-1-1?”
Distantly, Josh hears Theo’s muffled voice explaining again. Call 9-1-1. They’ll make sure Buck comes. It’s sweet, and it makes sense, any day that Buck hasn’t been injured on the job. Any other day it’d be a sweet little call—he can see it so clearly in his head.
9-1-1, what’s the address of your emergency?
Hello 9-1-1 can you have my Buck come pick me up?
Theo, whose phone did you steal today?
Theo RILEY, 5. Child, adorable.
“Theo, this is supposed to be for emergencies only, bud.”
Well. Also if he ignores that. It’s blatantly bad advice on Buck’s part—at least the phrasing of it is. What kid isn’t going to abuse a system that’s all but guaranteed to bring their caregiver home whenever they want them?
Maybe the kid who’s first time calling is to the news that they can’t bring back the caregiver.
Someone needs to talk to Buck about abusing emergency services.
“It is an emergency,” Theo says, only emergency comes out a couple syllable too many. “Buck didn’t come home. He told me he’d always come home. He promised!”
Diaz hisses like the words are a physical blow, and Josh gets the distinct feeling he should hang up because this is not his place. He tells himself he owes it to Maddie, though, to be there for her quasi-nephew. To Buck, and Theo, too, for the promise he made to him, and as the trusted voice on the other end of a 9-1-1 call.
Theo RILEY, 5. Child in distress. 9-1-1 operator, trusted.
“Has there been an update?” Josh asks, because what else does one say to their former work rival slash best friends brothers straight? best friend—Jesus, they really should just define the relationship if only to deal with the mouthful that is all that they are; best friends brothers’ boyfriend or husband would be so much more succinct— six hours after tragedy while there’s a toddler demanding he give back the one person Diaz probably wishes he could have back, too.
Diaz hesitates, and for a beat, Josh assumes he’s been hung up on, but then: “No.” His voice cracks, like admitting as much is tearing him to pieces. Josh imagines it can’t be much better in person, staring down Buck’s devastated mini me.
A snap to Josh’s left drags his attention from his screen to find Linda holding her phone out to him. “Diaz, hold on for a second.”
“What?”
Josh mutes himself and grabs Linda’s phone. Maddie and Chim’s family portrait with the kids is sitting center screen and he presses the phone to his ear. “Please tell me there’s good news.”
Maddie exhales. “There is—wait, why? Linda said you got a call and told her to call me, but—“
“We got a caller who was promised if he called 9-1-1 his Buck would always come find him if he was ever scared or alone.”
Maddie sucks in a breath that sounds like it hurts. “Oh, Buck.”
“Apparently Theo waited until everyone went to sleep and stole Eddie’s phone to call and ask us to bring his Buck home.”
She sounds wounded, when she replies with, “I told him to tell him that. The first few shifts after Buck took him in—“ she pauses, and Josh doesn’t have to be with her to know her eyebrows are pinching together, trying to find the will to keep the tears in. “Theo didn’t want to let him go. He was scared he wouldn’t come back.”
“Safety line,” Josh murmurs, nodding. “It makes sense.”
“Yeah,” Maddie bites, voice wet. “So long as you ignore the fact that there are nights where Buck might not come home because he—“ she cuts herself off, just as the fear and frustration starts to slink into the words. “I’ll be mad at him later.”
Josh nods. “You said there was an update? I still have Diaz on the line.”
She exhales and it wobbles and Josh wishes he hadn’t taken this shift to cover for Angie so he could be there at the hospital with everyone else. If only to support Maddie and May in person.
“He got out of surgery about ten minutes ago. Eddie was going to be my next call after I spoke with Buck’s doctor.”
“Oh?” Josh tilts his head. “Like he’s Buck’s spouse?”
Maddie laughs, like it’s startled out of her, and Josh gives himself a little mental pat on the back. It’s not easy to make her laugh when Buck’s in danger. She’s very tunnel visioned when it comes to him. Not that he blames her. Buck might be the most unlucky, crazy to be as reckless as he is on account of how unlucky he is, guy he’s ever met. Josh should know. One of his friends in high school fell down three flights of stairs after slipping on a banana peel. Josh knows unlucky.
“Like he’s watching Buck’s—“ she pauses, like she’s not sure what to call Theo. Bucks son? Buck’s charge? His buckling? Josh is partial to buckling. “—Theo.”
Josh wrinkles his nose. “And a little like he’s Buck’s spouse?”
She huffs. “I did see his name on Buck’s chart,” she admits, quietly. “Before mine, even.”
Josh gasps, leaning in towards his computer as if he’s having a particularly charged gossip session with her in the break room. “No.”
“Behave.”
“Tell me you’ve talked to him about it again.”
“And what would I say? He’s so far in denial, I just don’t know how bringing it up will do anything but scare him even more into pushing it as far down and away as he can.”
His hand slips and he stumbles forward, hand slamming into the keyboard. “Crap,” he mutters, righting his pen holder and straightening out the keyboard.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He exhales and leans back, shaking his head down at his desktop. “I just think if Buck doesn’t address the being in love with Eddie elephant, we’re going to have bigger issues.”
“The what?”
That’s—
Not Maddie’s voice.
No, Maddie’s voice is sighing, “He just needs time.”
Josh’s eyes stray up towards his monitor. Where the call with Theo and Diaz is supposed to be muted. Where it clearly shows an active line. He looks down at his hands in betrayal.
“Maddie?”
“Yeah.”
“I gotta go.”
“Okay?”
“I may have accidentally unmuted the call.”
“What call?”
“The call with Eddie.”
There’s a long, weighted silence. “Josh—“
“I gotta go! Bye, I love you! Give your brother my best wishes!” He pulls the phone from his ear and slams his thumb down on the end call button and stares at Linda’s phone wide eyed, before carefully dragging his gaze back up to the monitor.
Where the call with Diaz is still connected.
9-1-1 operator, age undisclosed. In distress. Needs relocation and back up.
Beside him, Linda leans in. “Are you—“
“Got your update!” He says in a rush, reaching up to hold his head set, as if that’ll do anything to keep him safe from whatever storm he just conjured up.
Diaz is remarkably quiet for his part.
Which could mean nothing.
“Buck just got out of surgery about ten minutes ago. Maddie’s talking with the doctor and then going to call you with what’s going on. She sounded—optimistic.”
“Optimistic,” Diaz mutters. “About his odds or the elephant?”
Josh blinks.
Maybe he should call 9-1-1, actually.
“Don’t . . . You need to get back to Theo?”
“He fell asleep in my lap while you were gossiping with Maddie.”
Okay, well. That’s an adorable image. If Josh ignores the possible look of intent to kill on Diaz’s face.
“I wouldn’t say we were gossiping—“
“What would you call it.”
It’s not a question. And for a second—the shortest second ever recorded in human history—Josh is almost tempted to rise to the bait. But there’s something to Eddie’s tone. It’s not anger, or frustration, or the lingering fear and mounting guilt. It’s—
He leans in to the computer. “Wait,” he breathes. “Are you—“
His question crashes into a dial tone.
Well.
Rude.
He turns to look at Linda. She shakes her head and he huffs. “It’s not my fault!”
But he turns away before she can tell him otherwise, mildly shameful, and closes out his report with Theo just as the radio crackles to life and the officer who’s been on standby asks, “Dispatch, any update on the child in distress?”
Theo RILEY, 5. Safe.
9-1-1 operator, age undisclosed, safety uncertain.
When Josh walks into the waiting room at nine, he’s not surprised to see a waiting room full of people. Bobby and Athena are sitting in the corner, Athena’s leaning on Bobby’s shoulder, resting, while he rubs her back. Next to them, Ravi and Harry are leaning in towards each other whispering about something. May and Chimney are on the opposite side of the room with most of the kids—Josh looks for Theo but doesn’t see him there with the rest of them.
Hen and Karen are sitting with Maddie, closest to the entrance, and they both give him knowing looks as soon as they spot him.
He holds up his hands in feigned surrender. “Am I going to be killed if I come any further?”
Maddie shakes her head. “You’re safe.”
He smiles and takes the seat across from them. “Any updates?”
Hen snorts.
Karen elbows her.
“What? What’d I miss?” He looks between the three of them as Maddie ducks her head and hides a smile. “Hey, no fair. I came here expecting sullen sadness and you all look like—“
“Bucks gonna be fine,” Harry says from his left, plopping down in the chair next to him. “So. Nothing to be sullen about.”
“Okay . . .” He draws it out to give them the space to explain, but nobody does. So he sighs. “Are you going to leave me hanging forever?”
Karen opens her mouth, but a squeal from the hall drags her attention away from Josh, and he follows her gaze, smiling as a giggling Theo darts down the hall, a frazzled looking Diaz chasing after him.
“Theo—Theo we can’t play tag in the hospital!”
“You can’t catch me!” Theo sings, darting past the waiting room like the most excitable blur Josh has ever seen—or, not? Seen? He’s so fast, he’s gone before Josh can really process what’s happening.
Harry laughs, jumping up. “I got this. I’m gonna get you, Theo!” He calls, darting after Theo, who squeals again and darts down a hallway, his Velcro shoes squeaking on the linoleum floors.
Josh’s brows furrow as he turns back to Maddie. “He seems better. Seeing Buck must’ve really helped.”
He updates the chart in his head:
Theo RILEY, 5. Happy.
She nods, smiling. “Bucks awake. Stable. First thing he did was ask for Theo when he woke up.”
Diaz falls into the chair Harry vacated. “Not before getting talked to about his recklessness,” he says, breathlessly.
Josh turns to him.
Huh.
He—still looks like he’s been crying. But there’s a blush on his cheeks that doesn’t particularly match the exertion of chasing after a five year old.
Hen hums. “I’m sure he was.”
Diaz gives her a look.
“I feel like I’m missing details.”
“A lot, actually.” Maddie leans forward and holds out her phone to him. He reaches out and takes it with a dubious eyebrow raise in her direction before looking down at the screen.
Oh.
Buck’s in his hospital bed, Maddie’s sat on one side, Diaz on the other, with his son, Chris, in a chair that looks hastily pulled into place next to him. Theo’s curled up at Buck’s side, between him and Diaz, asleep with his face buried in Buck’s chest, one little hand fisted in the front of his hospital gown like he thinks Buck might disappear before he wakes up.
It’s simultaneously the cutest and most heartbreaking thing he’s ever seen.
Until he looks at Diaz.
And—
Diaz’s eyes are locked on Buck. Shiny. Wet. Almost like he’s been staring at him for a while at this point. Like he has the same worry as Theo, but instead of clinging to Buck in his sleep, he can’t take his eyes off of him. Like if he blinks, Buck’ll disappear.
Talk about elepha—
Hang on.
Josh leans in, narrowing his eyes down at the picture.
Diaz is holding Buck’s hand.
9-1-1 please send emergency services to cedars Sinai medical center. Operator in whatever the immediate opposite of distress is.
He jolts upright, wide eyed, to look at Maddie. “Wait.”
Diaz sighs next to him and leans forward in his chair, shaking his head.
“Tell me.”
Diaz glances back at him. “You really screwed with my head.”
Josh nods. “Yeah. Uh huh. And then what happened?”
“They got into a fight,” Maddie offers. “And things were said.”
“What kind of things?”
Diaz sighs again. “Do we have to do this?”
“Come on.”
He narrows his eyes, lifting a hand to point a wagging finger at Josh. “I’m only saying this because you really helped Theo. He—had a really hard night last night when I picked him up instead of Buck.”
Josh blinks. That’s all good and well and great, he’s glad to have helped Theo. But Theo’s happy; that emergency is closed. There’s a new one emerging:
Diaz, 33. Alarmingly calm. Seen holding hands with reckless idiot. Lacking distress. Send available units to investigate.
“For gods sake,” May says from behind them. “Just admit he gave you what you needed to finally admit your feelings for Buck!”
Josh twists around to look at her and then jerks back around to look at Diaz for confirmation.
“I—I’m not sure we should give him that much credit,” Diaz says, crinkling his face up. “Really we should blame Buck trying to kill himself for me again. It. Really,” he holds his hands out in front of him like he’s boxing something. “Lined things up for me.” Or . . . Putting them in a line. Sure.
Josh tilts his head. “Feelings for Buck?” He asks.
Three minutes, by the way.
That’s how quickly he clocked that when they first met.
Toss in a handful of seconds to add in the Buck related feelings, and he had him clocked in under three and a half minutes.
Diaz, 33. Gay, gay, gay.
There’s a scoff from the hall and Josh turns towards it. Diaz’s son grins at them.
Diaz turns towards him, already shaking his head, “Don’t you start, too.”
“It was kind of funny, though.”
“Buck almost died. And you’re laughing. How dare you.” There’s no heat to the comment, and Diaz’s cheeks are turning bright pink, like he’s just desperate for an out, and what kind of work place rival would Josh be if he didn’t take this as the gift it is.
“What was funny?”
“Dad told Buck he loves him. Realized he hadn’t come out to me, panicked, came out to me, and then went right back into yelling at Buck.”
Diaz crosses his arms. “I was operating on almost no sleep.”
Josh nods. “And decades of repression.”
Diaz gives him an unimpressed glare.
“You seem remarkably…” he motions to him with both hands. “Okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’d say the decades of repression?”
Diaz shrugs. “Hard to freak out when I’m just relieved he’s alive and we—“ he motions to Chris, and off towards the hall Theo and Harry disappeared down, “have time to really figure out what comes next. As a—“ his brows furrow, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards. “Family.”
Josh would be lying if he said there isn’t a demon somewhere at the back of his mind stomping and asking when it’s his turn, but—he’d also be lying if he said he’s not just genuinely happy for them.
There’s an incoming echo of padding feet and happy giggling that really solidifies the feeling. And before Josh can tell him as much, little Theo’s standing in front of them, chest heaving, eyes wide and happy, grinning up at Diaz like he’s just about half of his entire world.
“Hey, bud. You done wearing Harry out?”
Harry collapses into a chair beside Karen, heaving a big, dramatic breath. “He’s fast!”
May clicks her tongue. “I think you’re just slow.”
Harry opens his mouth to retort, but Theo speaks before he can. “Eddie!” He draws out the sound of the hard E, giggling as he starts to climb into Diaz’s lap like it’s an extraordinarily tall mountain he’s made it his life’s mission to climb. Diaz lets him figure it out for himself, smiling softly down at him as he wibbles and wobbles and tugs and ultimately heaves himself into his lap.
“Is Buck done with his tests?” Theo asks once he’s settled, tipping his head back into Diaz’s chest to look up at him upside down. There’s no way he has a view of anything other than Diaz’s chin, and directly up his nose.
Diaz wrinkles his nose and pokes him in the side. “Not yet. The doctor’ll come get us when he’s all done.”
Theo squirms away from Eddie’s finger and looks at Josh. “Okay!” He tilts his head. “Who are you?”
“This,” Diaz says, catching Theo before he wiggles his way out of his lap. “Is Josh.”
For a second Josh thinks it doesn’t click.
But then Theo’s eyes go wide. “Mr. Josh? From the 9-1-1?”
“That’s the one.”
“Oh,” Theo breathes.
9-1-1 operator, age undisclosed. Heart full.
“Hi, Theo,” Josh says, waving.
“Mr. Josh saved my Buck!” Theo says, twisting around to look at Diaz wide eyed, grabbing his shirt like this is a moment of massive gravitas.
Josh expects Diaz to correct him. But he just nods, glancing at Josh. “Yeah,” he says. “Didn’t you wanna tell him something?”
Josh frowns.
Is he about to have this adorable toddler tell him off? It’s a trap, isn’t it? Oh, he knew Diaz was capable of deviousness but—
“Thank you, Mr. Josh!” Theo exclaims, crawling towards him and clinging to the side of Diaz’s chair. “My Buck gets to come home when he’s all better and—and we’re gonna go play! Because he hurt his leg, but it’s okay, because people get hurt but they get better! And then they play!”
It definitely feels like he’s trying to repeat what an adult who loves him said, but it’s been run through his toddler translations, but Josh gets the point.
“That’s great,” he says.
“I also had to pinky swear,” he raises his voice on pinky swear like he’s only recently just learned the term and it’s the single most important thing he’s ever heard, “Not to call 9-1-1 again unless it’s an—“ his eyebrows furrow, like he’s concentrating very hard and wants to get the word right, “ehmgerny.” He lights up, turning to grin proudly at Diaz. “Did I do it?”
Diaz swallows, nodding. Josh does him the justice of pretending not to notice how wet his eyes get. “Oh, yeah, bud,” he says, nodding. “Knocked it out of the park.”
Theo grins, turning back to Josh.
“Well,” Josh says, dropping his hands to his lap, feigning disappointment. “I’ll miss our late night calls, but I guess I understand.”
Theo, impossibly, grins even wider.
Theo RILEY, 5. No signs of distress. Call off patrol.
Maddie stands, holding her hand out for Theo. “Let’s go get some snacks from the vending machine.”
Theo gasps and clumsily jumps down out of Diaz’s lap.
They watch them go, and then Diaz turns to him.
“So,” he says. “You wanna know Buck’s reaction to your gossiping?”
Josh blinks.
Josh Russo, age undisclosed. In distress. Send all available units.