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“Hey!”
Bobby turns the second he hears Buck call out.
Hen is already on the ground, huddled protectively around her nose. Wet red stains her fingers as she scoots back, away from the man trying to get around Buck.
“Get out of my way!” The stranger screams in Buck’s face. The young man doesn’t flinch. He holds his hands out, trying to create some distance.
Bobby’s breath catches in his throat, his warning forming too late to be useful. One of the man’s hands disappears into his pocket and the other strikes out, wrapping tightly around Buck’s vulnerable neck.
“Buck!” Bobby bolts forward. It feels like running in slow motion. He sees the glint of the switchblade catching sunlight before it disappears into his firefighter’s stomach. Once. Twice. Three—
Bobby collides with the stranger. Both of their bodies bounce off the blacktop from the impact. Behind them Buck crumbles. His body folding forward as he drops to his knees. The bloody knife skitters across the blacktop and under a vehicle, out of sight and out of reach.
Time speeds up. Sound rushes back into focus. Filling Bobby’s senses with noise. Shouting from the people around. The gasping wet sound Hen is making. The pained groan from Buck. The inhuman sounds the attacker emits.
With his full weight, Bobby pins the man as he writhes against him. It’s a struggle to keep ahold of the stranger.
“Get the hell off of me!” The man screams as he jerks and bucks, trying to throw Bobby’s hold.
“I need an officer over here!” Bobby shouts, holding on as tightly as he can. He risks a look towards his people. Hen looks dazed as she huddles next to Buck’s folded form. Buck holds his stomach, but his eyes are on Bobby. Wide and worried that the dangerous man might break free. Pale, but ready to help, even in his condition.
Police officers swarm Bobby, taking control of the man who just attacked his team. Bobby doesn’t hesitate to leave them in control. He falls to his knees next to Hen and Buck. “Let me see.” With a steady hand Bobby peels back Buck’s bloodied fingers.
It looks bad. Bobby has EMT training. He knows how many important organs are located in the area Buck was just stabbed. Warm blood soaks the blue fabric of the kid’s LAFD issued shirt.
“I need another RA unit on sight of the crash. I have two firefighters down.” Bobby announces into his radio. He hears dispatch copy and refocuses on Buck and Hen.
“Vee ned to ‘top the bleding.” Hen directs as she and Bobby lay Buck out. Blood still leaks from her nose as she runs her fingers through Buck’s hair. The kid groans, his eyes screwing closed as his face wrinkles with pain.
“Hold on, Buck.” Bobby commands as he presses down on the holes in Buck’s stomach.
“Hen okay?” Buck chokes out looking up at Hen worriedly.
“Hen’s fine,” Hen informs him with a dumbfounded expression. “Hen ‘eeds you to s’op vleeding.” Her words sound painful and Buck’s eyes grow worried.
“Hang on, kid.” Bobby says, hoping to distract him. “Keep your eyes on me.”
“Trouble?” Buck asks. Half the question is eaten by a pained whine.
“Only if you fall asleep.” Bobby answers.
Time fizzles out. Greying around the edges. Another team arrives on scene. Someone pulls Bobby back and other paramedics and firefighters load his people up and whisk them away.
“What do you need us to do?” Jackson asks. What remains of the 118 crew look to their captain for leadership. They look to him.
Leadership. He still has a job to do. Bobby closes his eyes and counts to five. When he opens his eyes he ignores the way his bloodied hands tremble as he points to scattered pieces of their gear. “We’re surrendering the scene to the 110,” he announces. “Pack up and get ready to move out.”
His people, what remain of them, do as told. They work beautifully despite what they just witnessed. Bobby explains the situation to the captain of the 110 and his team heads back to the firehouse.
On the drive Bobby contacts the chief.
“I’ll send people to inform the families.” Chief Alonzo promises. “I have Karen Wilson listed as firefighter Wilson’s next of kin.” Over the phone Bobby can hear the sounds of shifting paper. A pause follows the sound. “I don’t seem to have probationary firefighter Buckley’s emergency contact information.”
Bobby closes his eyes. He remembers hounding the kid about it weeks ago. Somehow Buck managed to dodge getting the form filled out properly. “He was having trouble filling out the form. I forgot to send it over. I’ll take care of it.”
“See that you do.” The Chief tells him. “Keep me updated.”
“I’ll head to the hospital as soon as I contact Buck’s—probationary firefighter Buckley’s next of kin.”
“Have anyone who witnessed the altercation remain at the firehouse.” The Chief instructs. “I’ll have LAPD officers go to the 118 to take their statements. I’ll send an officer meet you at the hospital to take your statement as well as firefighter Wilson and probationary firefighter Buckley, if they are well enough to do so.”
“Yes sir, thank you, sir.” Bobby glances out the windshield of the engine and sees the open bay doors. “We’re back at the station now. I’ll keep you updated.”
“See that you do, Captain Nash.” The Chief says in parting.
Bobby closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath as the engines park. He calls out orders. Telling the remaining crew to wait to be questioned by the LAPD before heading home for the night. B Shift is already arriving for their scheduled shift, unaware of the tragedy that had taken place.
Captain Wyatt, B Shift’s captain, stops Bobby to ask questions. Somehow Bobby answers them in a professional manner, even though he wants nothing more than to brush the older man off so he can go to his office and figure out how to get in contact with Buck’s parents.
They’ll be worried sick. Bobby swallows thickly, pushing aside the images of Buck bleeding on the blacktop of a suburb street.
It had been a four vehicle accident. The man who attacked Hen hadn’t even been involved. At least, not that Bobby could remember.
Bobby had missed it. His eyes had been elsewhere and he’d missed the danger. He reacted too slow.
Buck’s file is still on top of Bobby’s file cabinet. It’s already thicker than most probationary firefighters tend to be. Notes and recommendations for future certifications as well as detailed documentation on Buck’s quick problem solving skills beef up the file. There is also a written reprimand regarding misuse of municipal equipment.
When the kid is all in, Bobby sees the potential for greatness. Buck’s young. A bit reckless, but with a heart that glows brighter than the sun. He’s got so much life in front of him.
Buck had seen what Bobby had missed. He had stepped up to protect Hen.
Bobby failed to protect them both.
Shoving his failures aside, Bobby flips open Buck’s file and turns to the document that lists his emergency contact. HR had sent it back to Bobby a few months after Buck had officially started at the 118. The document had never been fully filled out.
Bobby had tried several times to get Buck to fill the information out, but luck hadn’t been on his side.
The form is only half completed. A phone number scrawled with no name listed beside it. Buck had been telling Bobby a wild story about his time working at a ranch in Montana when the tones had sounded.
If Bobby were a better captain he would have forced Buck to finish filling out the form then and there. No talking. No wide gestures as the kid wove a vivid picture of horses and life under the stars. Bobby had let himself become enraptured with the story Buck told.
The kid’s parents would be furious when they learned about the delay. Bobby would take their wrath, though. Any anger would be deserved.
He dials the number. Holding his breath as he waits for the first ring.
“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service.” A mechanical voice informs him. “Please check the number and try again.” Bobby ends the call. He looks over the numbers Buck had written again. He’d dialed it right. But just to make sure Bobby tries again. And again with the same result. “The number you are trying to reach—”
The kid had been distracted. Gesturing wildly as he spun his tale with colorful detail. Bobby had been trying to pretend to be indifferent, but he’d listened to every word, hanging on every detail.
It was rare that Buck shared stories about his past travels. He tended to stick to recent events rather than older stories.
Maybe it wasn’t the kid who had been distracted. Maybe he had been distracting.
Bobby flips through the file and finds Buck’s listed address. The number was a bust, but it was unlikely that Buck had written down his address wrong. Especially since it matched with the photo of his driver license.
One way or another, Buck’s family would be there at the hospital with him. Bobby would make sure of it.
__
Bobby checks the address he’d written down again as he sits in his truck outside of a residential home. He isn’t sure what he expected, but this…
There are an absurd amount of cars parked on the street and packed in the driveway. The two story home looks run down. The lawn overgrown and yellowed from lack of care. The shutters are barely holding onto the cracked brick facade. The garage has a dent in it.
Bobby climbs out of his truck and makes his way up the driveway. Weeds grow in cracks of the sidewalk. Though the flowerbeds look nice enough. A variety of succulents thrive in their terracotta homes on the porch. Though one pot is cracked and leaking dirt.
This is not the home Bobby expected. Not that Bobby had thought that Buck still lived with his parents. Now that he thought about it, Bobby remembers Buck complaining about his roommates. About parties thrown when he was trying to sleep. Still, someone at this house would know how to contact the Buckley’s.
With building nerves, Bobby knocks on the door and waits.
This wouldn’t be the first time he told a family that their child was injured or worse. It was an unfortunate side effect of being a fire captain. He had delivered terrible news not long ago with Howard Han’s family. Thankfully Chimney was on the road to recovery.
Now the 118 was down three firefighters…
The door opens and a sleepy looking young adult stands glaring at Bobby with a level of hostility that Bobby hadn’t been expecting.
“What?” The guy demands with a grumpy yawn.
“I’m trying to get in touch with Evan Buckley’s parents.” Bobby says, clearing his throat and struggling to keep his face neutral.
The man child blinks. “Who?”
Bobby’s heart sinks. Maybe Buck had put down a fake address. Why would the kid do that? Where was he living?
“Buckley?” Another voice calls from beyond the door. Grumpy rolls his eyes and opens the door wider, revealing another young man. “Oh, shit.” The guy’s eyes widen. “Did Buck not show up for work, or something?”
“He-he showed up.” Bobby frowns. “Do his parents live near here?”
“Nah man!” The guy grins with an awkward laugh. “They live in Hershey. And they hate him. He tried to ask them for help when he moved in here and they didn’t even return his call.”
“Didn’t that guy move out?” Grumpy grumbles unenthusiastically.
“No. Wait. Did he?” The nicer guy frowns. “I guess I can’t remember the last time I saw him.”
“It was three days ago.” A new voice says. A sleepy looking girl appears at the stairs. “He lets me sleep in his bed while he’s gone. Did he get arrested or something?” She sounds hopeful. “Tell him I’ll make sure no one steals his stuff as long as I get his bed.”
“He did not get arrested.” Bobby says, voice clipped. “Do any of you know how to get in touch with his family?”
“His family didn’t want him.” Grumpy says and finally walks away. “They won’t care if he’s dead.”
“Dead?” Nicer guy’s eyes widen. “No shit. Is he dead?”
Bobby makes himself count to ten in his head. His face remains carefully neutral. “He was injured in the line of duty.”
“Oh, man.” Nicer guy frowns. “He owes me rent.”
Bobby stares for a moment and finally realizes why Buck had been unable to fill out his emergency contact. Phantom pain strikes his heart as he apologizes for wasting their time and leaves the rundown house.
It dawns on Bobby as he drives to the hospital that he never heard Buck talk about his family. Hershey. Had Bobby even known that was where the kid was from? Hen and Buck had come to his aid when he needed help and he hadn’t even known that Buck wasn’t raised in California.
Sure Bobby had known Buck had traveled. He’d seen the kids resume, after all. But Bobby had always thought Buck came back to California to settle down.
A numb fog fills Bobby’s head as he enters the hospital. He walks up to the desk and asks for an update on his people.
“Henriette Wilson is under observation in the ER.” The nurse says. “She has you listed as an approved person to visit if you are ready.”
“I am,” Bobby nods. “What about Evan Buckley?”
“He is still in surgery.” The young woman informs him. “He has you listed as his emergency contact.”
“What?” Bobby blinks.
“Before he was wheeled off to surgery he filled out a few forms.” The woman smiles. “I’ll let the surgeon know where you are so she can come update you on his condition.”
“T-thank you.” Bobby nods. A nurse comes to collect him a short while later and leads him through the maze of hallways to a space filled with curtains and beds.
“Obby!” Hen greets him the moment she sees him. Her nose is tapped, but the bruises on her face are already dark and painful looking.
Karen sits with her wife, but stands when Bobby joins them. “Any news on Buck?” She asks after short pleasantries. “Hen told me what he did for her—we’ve been worried sick.”
“I just got here.” Bobby admits.
Hen frowns. “What?” She manages to say.
“It’s a long story.” Bobby sighs. “The surgeon is supposed to come speak to me about his surgery.”
“You?” Karen frowns. “What about his parents?”
Hen’s eyes widen, likely realizing the same thing Bobby did hours ago. “Dead?” She guesses.
“Estranged.” Bobby corrects gently. “Or, at least from what I can gather. The number he listed for his emergency contact is out of service. I went to his residence and it appears that he and his roommates aren’t all that close.”
“Oh, ‘uck.” Hen sniffles, then winces.
“Hen—what happened?” Bobby asks. “I had my back turned for only a few minutes. Johnson was helping Jackson with the mother. I only saw the end of the altercation.”
“The guy said vee ver ‘locking ‘is driveway.” Hen answers. “I ‘on’t eve rememver vhat I said, ut he didn’t like my anser.” She rolls her eyes and closes them with a sigh. “He ‘unched me in the ‘ose. I-I vasn’t expecting it at all. Then ‘uck vas there and he-he,” a tear escapes the corner of her eye as she opens them. “He got hurt vecause of me.”
“No.” Karen says, reaching out and resting her hand on her wife’s shoulder. “He got hurt because someone woke up and decided to be a psychopath today.”
“The psychopath was on drugs,” Athena informs them as she steps into the space. “If that helps anything.”
“It doesn’t.” Bobby says.
“It doesn’t excuse anything.” Athena nods. “But I’d like to think that normally that man wouldn’t attack two first responders and two police officers on a normal day.”
“Two police officers?” Bobby blinks.
“He tired to escape.” Athena tells them. “Broke one officer’s wrist and another’s nose.”
“Aw, I thout I vas special.” Hen says dryly. “Vlease tell me he in’t going to get the vance to hurt anyvone else anyvime ‘oon.”
“He has a long list of charges about to be dropped on his head.” Athena promises. “Unless he gets himself a damned good lawyer, he’ll do the time he deserves.” She turns to Bobby. “I hear that your baby firefighter decided to be a hero.”
“He vas a hero.” Hen defends Buck, voice choked and high.
Athena’s expression softens. “I’m glad he was there. I just wish he hadn’t gotten himself hurt.”
“He didn’t know about the knife.” Bobby says quietly. “Not until it was too late. Did they find it on scene? I-I don’t know if I told anyone where it landed.”
“One of the other witnesses informed the detectives assigned to the case.” Athena assures him. “How is Buck doing?”
Bobby sighs, wishing he had an answer to that question. “He was in surgery still. A surgeon is supposed to find me.”
“And a surgeon has.” A woman’s voice says cheerfully. “Bobby Nash?”
“That’s me.” Bobby twists his hands together painfully as he stares at the shorter woman.
“My name is Dr. Kent, I had the pleasure of operating on Mr. Buckley. Evan Buckley has given us permission to share details of his care with you, Mr. Nash.” The surgeon explains with a bubbly smile that seems displaced in a hospital. “He also gave you power of attorney, in case anything happened that made it impossible for him to make his own medical decisions. However, that won’t be necessary today. Evan’s surgery went really well. The knife must have been short and narrow and thankfully avoided hitting anything vital directly. Though there was a minor laceration to his right kidney. While Evan lost a bit of blood, the surgery patched up the damage and he’s looking at a relatively quick recovery.”
The tension Bobby had been holding bleeds out of him as the surgeon reaches the end of her speech.
“Mr. Buckley will be moved to recovery shortly and then to the ICU after that for observation.” The doctor’s proud smile never fades. “He should be there for a few days while we monitor him for any continued blood loss as well as any pesky infections. Hopefully we’ll be able to release him within the next week or so.”
Bobby thanks her and watches as she numbly as she leaves.
“That’s such a relief.” He hears Karen say.
“Buck is incredibly lucky,” Athena comments. “Getting stabbed in the gut is no joke.”
Karen nods and pulls a notebook out of her purse. “We’ll have to find a way to thank him. He did keep my wife from getting stabbed by that guy.” She pauses and glances at Hen. “What about an edible fruit arrangement? Chimney seemed to like his.”
“‘uck sill owes me oney from te edivle fuit ar’anment ve got Chim.” Hun huffs brokenly, then groans from the pain in her nose.
“You should probably let that go, Babe.” Karen pats Hen on the shoulder gently before turning to Bobby. “Is someone on the way to be with him? You said his parents were estranged, but he must have friends?”
Bobby’s silence answers the question. Or perhaps it’s his bleak expression.
“I’ll be off in a few hours. Michael is with the kids.” Athena says. “I can sit with Buck for a bit.”
“I’m oing to ve released ‘oon.” Hen says and shares a glance with Karen. “Ve can s’ay.”
“Hen, you need rest.” Bobby says gently. “You’ve been through something traumatic today and Buck would want you to take care of yourself.”
“Vut wo’s goin to take care of him?” Hen’s eyes fill with tears again. Her open display of emotions is likely caused by whatever pain medication the nurses have given her.
“I will.” Bobby promises.
“We all will.” Athena adds. “He won’t be alone.”
__
Hours later, Bobby sits by Buck’s bedside. The hospital staff finally set him up in a room in the ICU. Though his doctor reassured Bobby it was just a precaution.
“Knives are dirty things,” she had said. “We’re just keeping an eye out for any potential complications.”
The biggest thing they wanted to avoid is infection.
So far Buck was holding his own.
The sedation should wear off soon. That was what Buck’s current ICU nurse told Bobby a half hour ago. Which meant that Buck could wake at any minute. Bobby’s eyes studies the kid’s face. He looks so young. He was pretty much all alone. It was hard not to care about that. About him.
Buck struggles like everyone struggles, but he always tried to make people laugh. Even if it was at his expense.
“Hi, Bobby.” Buck’s weak croak pulls Bobby’s attention back to the young man who had revived all of his parental instincts.
“Hi, Buck.” Bobby echoes the greeting, leaning closer and gently holding Buck’s hand in his. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got stabbed.” Buck says with a laugh that turns into a cough. Bobby picks up the cup and straw sitting ready beside Buck’s hospital bed and helps Buck wash away the desert dry feeling in his throat. “Thanks.” Buck closes his eyes. Like the simple act of drinking had driven out the last of his energy. “Hen?”
“Her nose was broken, but they were able to set it without any issues.” Bobby informs him. “She went home a few hours ago.”
“Good.” Buck sighs his relief. Then he closes his eyes. “Are you mad?”
The question catches Bobby off guard. Enough that he isn’t sure how to answer. Or what Buck believes he might be mad about. Mad about the unreachable emergency contact number? Mad about Buck living with people who didn’t care enough about him?
“Mad about what, kid?”
“Got stabbed.” Buck sighs sadly. “Hen got hurt.” His blue eyes open and search Bobby’s face for the answer he hasn’t vocally given. “Screwed up. Again.”
The confession hits hard. Of all the things Bobby had reason to be angry at…
“No.” Bobby tells Buck firmly. “I’m not angry. Are you mad at me?”
Buck’s face screws up in confusion. “Why?” He asks plainly.
“Because I was too late to keep you and Hen from getting hurt.” Bobby says slowly. “You saw the danger before I did. You stepped in when I couldn’t. I’m proud of you. I just wish you didn’t have to get hurt in the process.”
“Proud?” Buck echoes hopefully.
“Very.” Bobby squeezes Buck’s hand gently. “I was also very scared.”
A stricken look splashes across Buck’s face. “Scared?” He echoes wetly.
“I was too far away to stop it from happening.” Bobby explains quietly. “I saw the knife. I saw everything and I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.”
“You tackled him.” Buck points out helpfully. “Like a linebacker.”
“I never played football.” Bobby says with a short laugh.
“I did.” Buck sighs again with a wince of pain. “You would-would have been a star.”
“I’m sure.” Bobby smiles, wondering if Buck would be saying the same things if he wasn’t heavily drugged. “How about you get some more rest. We’ll talk more later.”
“You’ll say?” Buck sounds surprised, and a little scared. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve got no where else I’d rather be, kid.”
__
“I met your roommates.” Bobby says two days later. Buck was moved out of the ICU and into a private room. He avoided a major infection, but the doctor’s aren’t quite ready to release him from the hospital at large yet. Mostly because Buck fainted during one of his walks because he refused to tell anyone he was feeling dizzy.
“What?” Buck’s eyes go wide. “When? Where? Why?”
“After a firefighter is injured on duty the family is contacted immediately.” Bobby explains. “Chief Alonzo realized that section of your file was missing. He asked me to look into it. I called the number you had written down, but,”
“It was a dead number.” Buck winces. “S-sorry about that.”
“I had no other way to get ahold of your family.” Bobby continues. His tale. “So I drove to your house hoping that someone would be home.”
“I-I don’t live with my family.”
“I had hoped if that were the case the people you did live with would know how to get in touch with them.”
“Yeah, they don’t.”
“No. They do not.” Bobby agrees. “One of them mentioned they were in Hershey.”
“Pennsylvania.” Buck nods and looks down at the blanket draped over his lap. “I-I was born there.”
“You don’t have much of an accent.”
“I left when I was eighteen.” Buck shrugs. “I lost it along the way.”
Bobby takes a moment to breathe. “You aren’t going to recovery at that place.”
“It’s not so bad.” Buck shrugs a shoulder.
“I’m pretty sure a girl stole your bed.” Bobby adds.
“Stacey.” Buck nodded. “I kind of let her. She needed it more than me.”
“It’s your bed.”
“I’m barely there anymore.” Buck shrugs.
“Buck, you were just stabbed three times in the gut.” Bobby says. “You can’t recover there. Not properly.”
“I-I don’t have anywhere else—”
“You do.” Bobby cuts him off. “You have a place with me.”
“I-I can’t ask—”
“You don’t have to ask,” Bobby interrupts again, “because I’m offering. And if you don’t take my offer, I’m going to make it a command as your Captain.”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have the authority to dictate where I sleep at night.” Buck says, fighting a smile.
“Fine. Then as your friend I’m asking you to please stay with me.” Bobby takes a breath. “My apartment gets lonely sometimes. I think it might be good for both of us.”
Buck doesn’t immediately agree. Then again, he doesn’t immediately turn Bobby down either. For a moment, then two, then three, the two men sit in silence.
“Are you sure?” Buck frowns. “Because I can be really annoying sometimes. And loud.”
“Buck, I promise you, I am very sure. Please come stay with me.”
“Okay.”
“Also,” Bobby starts, though he hesitates. “I would like you to put down my name as your emergency contact.”
“Bobby—”
“If you are okay with that.” Bobby adds quickly. “I understand what it’s like, you know. Not having a person to put down. Do you know who my emergency contact was when I first moved here?”
“N-no?”
“Chief Alonzo.” Bobby reveals. “When I moved here from Minnesota I didn’t have friends or family nearby. I had run away from everything and everyone I’d ever known and who had ever known me. I didn’t have anyone in the area. The Chief offered to fill that position until I found someone more suitable.”
“Who is it now?”
“Hen.” Bobby answers. “After it became apparent that I wasn’t going to leave the 118, Hen gave me the money that people had used to bet against me.”
“There was a bet?” Buck sounds genuinely offended.
“To be fair they had a revolving door of captains before I arrived.” Bobby shrugs. Waving Buck’s worry off. “It was a fair assumption to them that the captain from Minnesota was in over his head. But, when it became clear that I was staying and that they wanted me to stay, I asked Hen and she let me put her down as my contact.” Bobby presses his lips together and admits, “it was more of a formality, at the time. I didn’t really expect her to show up for me. I mostly wanted someone to know if I was unable to make it to work for any medical reason.”
“Hen would care.” Buck frowns. “She’d be there for you. We all would.”
“I know that now.” Bobby nods. “I didn’t then.”
There’s another pause before Buck speaks again. “So you want to be my emergency contact for-for formality?”
“No.” Bobby shakes his head. “I want to be your emergency contact because I care about you. I want to be here if you need me. If-if you’re okay with that.”
“Yeah.” Buck looks stunned. “More than okay.”
“Good.” Bobby smiles. “You aren’t alone anymore, Buck.”
“Neither are you, Bobby.” Buck smiles.
The 118 was never supposed to be a family. Once upon a time, Bobby had told Buck that.
Bobby has never been so grateful to be wrong.