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Chris & Eddie
Eddie waves to Buck from the door as he goes about locking up and shutting off the lights now that he’s home for the night.
Karaoke had been fun, but he could have done without the trivia. Their team ended up dead-last, which required them to get up as a group and sing Bye Bye Bye to a sloppy-drunk crowd. Tommy and his friend group were very welcoming and performed with gusto, so all-in-all it had been a good night.
He stops by Chris’s room on the way to his, peeking in to see that his son is scrolling on his phone instead of sleeping. He tuts playfully, pitching his tone low as he leans against the doorframe and tells him he should be getting some shut-eye.
Chris sits up on one elbow, his brow furrowed and eyes serious. “Can we talk?”
Eddie pushes himself off the doorframe, coming fully into the room. “Sure, bud—everything ok?”
Chris makes room for his dad to sit on the bed with him and fixes him with his most serious expression. “Are you mad at Buck?”
Genuinely confused, Eddie is quick to wave away the very notion. “What? No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“We haven’t all hung out together in weeks. No movie nights, no dinners, no zoo—“
“Didn’t he take you to the zoo last weekend?”
“Yeah, he took me. You went on a hike with Marisol. And now tonight you went somewhere with Tommy—“
“I thought you liked Tommy?”
“Yeah, he’s great, but it just kind of seems like you went from hanging out mostly with Buck to sometimes Buck and sometimes Marisol and now it’s sometimes Tommy and sometimes Marisol, but never Buck.”
Eddie has to sit with that for a second; it’s not exactly not true, but Chris is a kid and kids have a warped sense of time. He’s known Tommy for a total of three weeks, it’s not like he’s really been hanging out with him a lot. It’s only been tonight, them going to that fight, the movies with Chris the night before that, last Saturday with the car and like…two lunches.
Ok, now that he thinks about it, that is a lot in a short amount of time and he hasn’t seen Buck outside of work since before the whole cruise ship thing.
He must be quiet too long because Chris scrunches up his nose at him before flopping back down on his pillows. “It just seems kind of like you found a new friend and now you don’t need your old one anymore.”
Eddie rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. “You know what? You’re right; I haven’t been including Buck as much as I could. I’ll see if he wants to do something this weekend. Maybe he’ll want to go with us and Marisol—”
Chris’s incredulous single-eyebrow raise has Eddie stopping short. “Yeah, ok, a boys’ day—just the three of us. Sound good?”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Chris says, hunkering down into his blankets, grinning and shooing Eddie when he leans down to kiss his forehead.
“Ok, get some sleep. No more phone.”
“Yeah yeah. G’night, Dad.”
Athena & Hen
“…and then he takes off running and just leaps over the edge and flails through the air like the protagonist in some damn spy drama and sure enough lands on the fire escape one floor below on the other side of the alley just in time to catch the girl as she fell.”
Athena sits back in her seat, an incredulous twist to her lips. “Well, now Bobby’s foul mood makes more sense. Lord help that boy, he’s all heart, no brain.”
Hen shrugs, takes a sip of wine. “I wouldn’t be that dismissive of him; he’s gotta really know himself and his ability in order to pull off a lot of what he does. That takes smarts.”
Athena scowls playfully. “You’re right; still doesn’t change the fact that my husband comes home with a new gray hair every shift they work together.”
Hen laughs, low and hearty. “That I can believe; I’m pretty sure I saw it happen in real time last week when Buck decided it would be a good idea to take some birdseed…”
Maddie & Margaret
“You know, we’ve really been trying, Maddie. I think it’s unfair that your brother continues to punish us when we’re doing our best.”
Maddie rolls her eyes, but plasters a smile on her face for Jee as she pops another spoonful of applesauce in her mouth. “I don’t think he’s trying to punish you, Mom.”
“Well, what would you call it, then? We’ve done everything he’s asked—we’ve gone to therapy, we’ve talked about Daniel, we’ve even offered to visit and get to know his new girlfriend.”
Chim comes in the door, having just gotten home from a 24 hour shift, and he immediately takes over the spoon and applesauce with a loving wink at his soon-to-be-bride.
She mouths a quick thank you, finally stepping away so she could give her mother the attention she was so obviously asking for.
“Well, first of all, Buck is no longer dating Natalia, so you don’t need to worry about that. Second, his job is stressful—he just had some kind of helicopter rescue out at sea—I don’t think he’s avoiding you so much as he’s just busy. However, I promise you that I will tell him to call you this weekend, ok? And if nothing else, I’m sure you can get some time with him when you come in for the wedding.”
At least she sincerely hopes so; she hates speaking for Buck, but she also just can’t handle her mother’s neediness right now.
“Yes, maybe he’ll listen to you. You’ve always had more sway with that wayward boy than either me or your father.”
You know what? Maddie has had it.
“And why do you think that is, Mom? Why do you think Buck has such a hard time reaching out to you with anything in his life?”
Margaret sputters, half an answer, half an excuse formed before Maddie cuts her off. “You were never there for him, Mom. Neither of you, not really. Daniel died and you checked out of dealing with either of us, so we only had each other even when you were in the same house. Jesus Christ, Mom—you wouldn’t even look him in the eyes. He was a child.” She’s breathing hard and pointing at the couch like her mother was actually sitting there for the lecture. “I was a child! I was a child and I was the only one that was there for him. I held him when he cried, fed him when he was hungry, bandaged his scrapes and kissed his bruises. You and Dad just wrapped yourselves in grief and left us to fend for ourselves.”
It’s quiet on the other end of the line, and if Maddie closes her eyes, she can picture the tears that are likely tracking down her mother’s face, but she’s beyond feeling bad for that woman. She swipes at her own wet cheeks, letting out a shaky sigh. “So really, Mom, what did you expect?”
Margaret doesn’t have much to say to that so she just lets out a little whimper. “I don’t know, Maddie. We’re trying—will you please just have him call? I’m worried about him.”
1…2..3…4…5
“Yeah, of course. I’ll have him call. Look, I love you but I gotta go. Tell Dad hello for me.”
She hangs up before her mom has finished replying, sliding her phone into her pocket before rejoining Chim and Jee in the dining room.
“Thanks so much for that. How was your shift?”
“Oh you know, the usual—some slip-and-falls, some bloody noses, your brother superhero-slid under a moving semi in order to save Cap from getting squished and then got yelled at and hugged.”
Maddie nods along, unfazed. “Sounds like a normal day to me.”
Bobby & Mr. Doe
“What are you, fucking stupid?”
Bobby’s head snaps up at the shout. They’re working a pretty busy scene—an eight-car pile-up with multiple injuries; they’ve got two out of three lanes closed on one of the busiest roads in L.A. during rush-hour traffic, no less.
It’s safe to say that tensions are running high.
He finds the source of the continuing tirade, frowning and immediately heading over to where Buck and a very angry man in a suit are standing by what was once an expensive Benz.
“Look at my car, you big fucking oaf! Look what you did.” The man is gesturing wildly at the broken window and a dent in the frame.
“Sir—“ Buck tries, his patience obviously wearing thin. “The window is the least of your worries, there’s not even a front end anymore.”
This just enrages the man more, and he takes a menacing step toward Buck, though considering Buck has about six inches and sixty pounds on him, there probably wouldn’t be much of a fight should it come to blows before Bobby can intervene. “Don’t you tell me what to be worried about! You came in, swinging your big damn …hammer-thing… around, breaking shit! You ruined it!”
Buck goes to respond again, but spots Bobby walking up and his expression visibly smoothes out with relief. “Cap, this guy has an issue and I’m honestly needed elsewhere. I didn’t wanna leave him though; he’s got a nasty lump on his head and is refusing to come with me to get triaged.”
“You did good, Buck. Go help Eddie with the Taurus, I’ll take it from here.”
The man is still incensed enough that he continues to hurl insults at Buck’s retreating back: “help? Ha! He probably breaks everything he touches, that worthless sonofabi—“
The end of that sentence cuts off with a gag and the man’s red face going white and then green before he hurls what was undoubtedly a very fancy lunch all over the pavement.
“Yeah, that would be your concussion. It’s probably not a good time to throw a tantrum, hollering just builds more pressure.”
“A t—uhh…”the man hacks and spits some more, leaning his shoulder heavily into the side of the car, but still managing to wave an accusing finger vaguely in Bobby’s direction. “M’not throwing a tantrum. I wa-want your name, I’m gonna contact your boss.”
“How about we get you over to the ambulance first and you can have my job later?”
Scowling, the man finally relented and allowed himself to be led over to where Chim was triaging other patients.
Bobby sits him down on the bumper of one of the ambulances and is about to turn to leave when the man’s face again twisted in pure anger. He glances back to where Buck and Eddie are now pulling the door off another vehicle to get to a woman trapped inside.
He opens his mouth, but Bobby is quick to lean down to him and in a deadly calm tone, he says: “Don’t even try it. I understand you’re hurt and upset, but none of what happened is his fault and he hasn’t done anything wrong. That man is one of the kindest, bravest men I’ve known and I will not have one more negative word out of you, do you understand?”
“Fine,” he growls, “just keep him away from me.”
“With pleasure. Chim, got another one for you!”
He goes to walk away again, but turns back for one last comment. “And don’t think about complaining to the paramedic, either—he’s about to marry that one’s sister in a few weeks, so I don’t think he’ll welcome your sentiments any more than I do.”
Tommy & his Partner
They’re out again; not officially and not together—more just in the same bar at the same time. Tommy is with some of his crew playing darts while Evan and some others from the 118 had just come in and crowded around the pool table with the red felt.
He’s caught Evan’s eye a few times from across the room, but neither of them have made a move to approach the other. Eddie and Chim are with him, but they don’t seem to have noticed that Tommy is there, yet.
Which is just as well. Evan is beyond adorable when he’s all flustered, but Tommy would prefer that it just be him making him blush and stammer, not the eyes of his friends upon them.
“Hey, Kinard! It’s your go.” DeWitt, one of the other pilots at his station, called from where she is collecting her darts.
“Yeah yeah, didn’t know you were in such a hurry to buy me a drink.”
“Anything to get you to stop mooning over your new crush.”
Ross and Jenkins, the other two members of their house out tonight, snickered from where they were nursing their beers.
He doesn’t bother denying it, and lines up to take his shots. “That obvious, huh?”
He hits for a total of 70 points and retrieves his darts, setting the board to start the next turn.
DeWitt grins up at him cheekily as she passes by to take her shot. “Yeah, I mean Diaz is hot and all, so I don’t blame you. I’m pretty sure you’re barking up the wrong tree though.
Tommy sputters his beer, laughing. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.”
She shoots again and beats him—she always does—and passes off the board to Ross and Jenkins while she gets herself and Tommy another beer. In his moment of alone time, he pulls out his phone, shooting off a quick text to Evan.
Tommy: you look good tonight.
Tommy: can’t wait to have you all to myself again.
He watches as Evan pulls out his own phone and then nearly fumbles it before returning his message with several of his own.
Evan: thank you, you too!
Evan: and I also look forward to having you all to myself.
Evan: oh my god that sounds so awkward
Tommy: you’re cute. See you soon.
Evan: definitely
He puts his phone face-down on the table when DeWitt returns, gratefully burying his blush in the glass.
“Besides,” she said, continuing the conversation as if she’d never left the table, “you’d have to wrestle him away from his big dumb guard dog.”
Tommy snorts, but he also has an unpleasant twist to his gut at the words. “What are you talking about?”
“Buckley.” She says as if it’s obvious. “He’s always hanging all over Diaz, being the biggest cock block and clam jam in the world. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were fucking. Sure, they’d be cute together, but Diaz deserves someone a little more his speed in the smarts department.”
“Wow, DeWitt, I didn’t take you for the catty, jealous type.”
“Me? Jealous? Hardly.”
“Catty, however…”
“Oh, fuck you Kinard,” she laughs, shoving his shoulder (which was like shoving a brick wall).
“I mean, you know his record. His field and written exams are among some of the top in the department, not to mention he has at least twice as many commendations as yo—“
“Ok, that’s enough of that.” She pats him on the chest, gesturing toward the dartboard. “Looks like it’s our turn. Best three out of five?”
“Sure,” he says, but he can’t help but feel a little disappointed in his partner.
Buck
They’re all around the dinner table, cutting up and having a good time—Bobby even made spaghetti and meatballs, a fan favorite—when it happened.
Buck had been in the middle of telling a story when his sweeping gesture knocked into his cup, and his frantic attempt at catching it domino-affected its way into spilling Ravi’s drink, dropping Eddie’s plate on the floor and tumping over the basket of bread, sending the garlicky goodness flying.
Everything is quiet for the span of a breath and then Eddie pushed his chair back, chair screeching obnoxiously, and excused himself to get some more heavy-duty cleaning supplies for the meat sauce puddled under the table. He smiles at Buck and waves off his apology, quickly bounding to the stairs so he can raid the supply room.
Bobby is up in a flash, collecting errant pieces of bread and loading them back in the bowl to take to the kitchen. “I’ll pop some more in the oven and we’ll have a fresh batch in eight minutes.”
Chim, having been collateral damage in the drink-spilling, glared at Buck from across the table as he dabbed at the front of his uniform.
“Oh my god, Chim—I’m so sorry,” Buck tried, reaching for some napkins but pulling back when Hen shooed him, grabbing them herself.
Chim glanced up at him, mid-pat-down and snorted. “And to think you almost made it a whole shift without Bucking something up.”
Heat rose up in Buck’s neck and face, undoubtedly increased by the snickers of his friends and colleagues. “I said I was sorry.” He mutters, almost too quiet for anyone to hear.
Egged on by the positive response from his audience, Chim continues. “We should get a white board, ‘zero days since a Buck-up’, though I doubt we’d ever have to change the number.”
There’s a little more laughter rippling through the group, most of the awkward air being lifted, and it is effectively the straw that broke the camel's back.
“You know what, Chim? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and one of the things that I need to do more of is stand up for myself. So…I really don’t like it when you say that.”
Chim doesn’t even look up to acknowledge him, just keeps dabbing at the wetness on his shirt. “Well, I really don’t like it when you spill stuff on me.”
It’s too late to stop now, so Buck barrels on. “Ok, well that still doesn’t give you a right to…to…bully me all the time. None of you.” He glares at the other folks at the table, some of them looking away sheepishly.
Chim sputters, obviously offended. “Bully you? I don’t bully you. What are you talking about?”
“You guys are always basically calling me a fuck-up, and I’m tired of it. I don’t appreciate that you all make jokes about how smart I am, either.”
Chim, who gets extra sassy when he’s defensive, snarks back: “Well, to be fair, we just assumed those jokes went over your head.”
Buck slams his hands down on the table, making more than a few people jump. “I am not fucking stupid, Chim! Ever notice I don’t ‘joke’ back with you like that? It’s because I think saying mean things to people makes you an asshole. And I’m really really trying hard not to think of the love of my sister’s life as a bullying asshole, but you’re making real fucking hard lately!”
“Woah woah woah, what is going on here?” Eddie is back and Bobby is not far behind.
No one seems to want to say anything, so Bobby strides forward to take control. “Everybody out, I’ll call you back to dinner soon. Buck, my office. Chim, you stay here.”
Chim watches as Eddie walks Buck toward Bobby’s office, genuinely confused as to what just happened. Once everyone is dispersed, Bobby turns to him, lifting a single eyebrow in question.
“You got me, Cap. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. All the sudden he’s talking like this is high school and somehow he’s the nerd and I’m the jock.”
“…what?” Bobby asks, more confused than before.
“He says I’ve been bullying him. That a lot of us have been, really.”
Bobby’s brows knit together. “Have you been? Bullying him.” He adds at Chim’s questioning look.
Chim gives a half-hearted shrug. “No more than usual. The crew has always had a sibling-esque relationship; we pick on each other all the time.”
“Yeah, well, one of your brothers is expressing that he doesn’t appreciate being picked on anymore. So what are you going to do about it?” Bobby asks.
“Well, normally I would give him a noogie when Dad’s not watching—“
“Chim, be serious.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re right, Cap. I’ll apologize.
“Ok, go grab the bread out of the oven and get everyone else back up for dinner. I’m gonna go talk to Buck.”
When he gets to his office, Buck springs out of the chair he’s in, immediately attempting to defend his actions, but Bobby holds up his hand to stop him and gestures for him to sit back down. Once the door is closed and they’re both sitting, he begins.
“First off, I want to apologize. I never knew you took those comments personally and so I never discouraged them. That was shortsighted on my part and I’m sorry that I assumed instead of coming to you to confirm.
“Second, I’m proud of you. I’m not saying your delivery couldn’t use some work, but you’re totally justified in how you feel and communicating your needs is important.”
Buck leaned back in his chair, casting his eyes to the floor. “I feel bad for my outburst, and I haven’t said anything before because I just want to go with the flow, you know? I don’t really think anyone means anything by it, but it’s my name, you know? I don’t like my name being used as some running joke synonym for fucking up.”
Buck looks up at him, eyes all the bluer for the redness that his upset has left behind. “But I guess I earned that, didn’t I? I’ll never outlive being a fuck-up, will I? No matter how much I grow and change and learn, to them I’ll always be a dumb probie.”
Those words hit Bobby like a blow to the chest. “Buck, no. I promise you, that is not the case. You are held in very high esteem in this house and in the department. You’ve grown into a fine man, and we all see it. We’re all so proud of you.”
“…thanks, Cap. That means a lot.”
They both stand and Bobby claps Buck on the shoulder. “Look, let’s go back, join the others and have a good old fashioned family dinner, ok?”
“Yeah, ok.”
Buck goes to open the door, but Bobby pulls him back and into a crushing hug. Hesitantly, Buck returns it, his arms slowly tightening around this man who means so much to him.
“I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you.” Bobby whispers against his ear, bracing him as Buck buries his face into his shoulder and he holds him until he’s composed himself enough to leave the room.
They rejoin the table with dinner in progress and are integrated immediately into the conversation of movie sequels that were better than the originals (Terminator 2 won) and they shared a blissfully quiet—
Oh shit, did I say quiet?
After the after-dinner fire, Chim approaches Buck in the kitchen, hopping up on the counter while Buck started a fresh pot of coffee.
He decides to just rip off the band-aid. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Buck. And I don’t think you’re a fuck-up. But I am starting to think I’m an asshole.”
Buck blows out a breath, rubbing at the back of his neck. He starts to protest, but Chim cuts him off. “Look, when you’re right you’re right. I just want you to know I never meant to hurt your feelings, but I know that’s not an excuse and I’m going to work on it.”
Buck pulls two cups out of the cabinet, offers Chim one. “Yeah, ok. I appreciate that.”
It's not a promise of perfection, but it certainly is progress.