Chapter Text
The alarm blared through the station, cutting through the early morning calm. Buck was halfway through his second cup of coffee because Phil decided to sleep on his bed and take up ¾ his sheets the other night. Buck’s puppy was now the official Station 118 mascot… just not physically at the station. Ravi said no to Buck many months ago when he wanted to bring Phil to visit. Pet allergies were unfortunately incurable.
“Let’s move!” Bobby’s voice rang out, and just like that, the team fell into step, routines as natural as breathing. Six months might have passed since the chaos of The Hot Shots episode, but the job came first before puppy cuddles—or for Buck’s life to settle back into place.
During the third month of Eddie’s absence, the weight of it all had taken its toll, and Buck was diagnosed with severe anxiety. Maddie, the only steady presence in his life, suggested he register Phil as an emotional support animal. Buck didn’t like that idea though. Phil was a lifeline form, although the dog's presence did little to fill the aching void Eddie had left behind. By the fifth month after Eddie's move to El Paso, Buck was drowning in an unbearable sense of abandonment. He cried so often that the silence in his apartment felt suffocating. Desperate to reach his best friend, he tried everything—emails, letters, texts, calls—but every attempt met a dead end. Eddie’s number was either changed or blocked, severing the only connection Buck had clung to.
This month, Eddie’s sixth month of absence from L.A., Buck got the most cuddles from Phil despite the dog’s weight. It was just like a Google human-weighted blanket. Hugs and cuddles were a constant reminder that the furry best friend would be there for Buck even when he had anxiety attacks. Buck was doing okay for now. At least that’s what he told himself.
“Cap, can I talk to you in your office after this call?” Buck said to Bobby while he sat in the passenger seat of the firetruck.
Ever since Eddie left for Texas, Buck has refused to sit in his old truck seat. Everything has started to remind him of the times they had together, and it hurts Buck to see and hear things they used to do at the station together.
“Yeah, of course. Everything okay, with therapy and Phil staying at home?” Bobby said while focusing on the road.
Phil was staying with the Wilson Family when Buck had his long 24-48 hour shifts. It was a way for their family to get used to having a pet around the house without adopting one.
“Everything’s fine.” Buck lied to his captain through his teeth.
Nothing was fine in his life. Not without his best friend, Eddie. Buck desperately needed an emotional support friend. One that didn’t have four legs and shed fur all over the place.
The fire truck arrived at a scene Buck and Eddie knew all too well. It was Christopher’s favorite dog park, the park Eddie hated the most because he didn’t want his son to get any ideas. Buck always loved the dog park more than Chris, though. It was like his safe space, a place where he could chat with his neighbors freely and also offer to walk their dogs when he could.
Between the barbed wire fence entrance to the dog park, a man's large hand jutted through one of the sections, trembling violently. He appeared to be in his twenties, seizing uncontrollably, his body rigid and convulsing. Beside him, a big black Labrador, its service dog vest discarded, barked urgently—its deep, resonant voice echoing over the chaos. The dog was alerting everyone around, a desperate plea for help. The distant wail of sirens grew louder as ambulances and animal control vehicles fought through traffic to reach the scene. There was no visible blood or injury, but the man’s condition was deteriorating rapidly. Every second felt critical as the park’s onlookers froze, torn between fear and the instinct to help.
“Okay, everyone stay back until animal control gets here. Chim, set up triage please. Preferably somewhere away from the wire fence. Hen, see if you can take the man’s vitals and be careful with his hand, Buck, what are you staring at? Probie, pass out water bottles to the dog walkers so they don’t dehydrate.” Captain Nash said while Buck stared afar at a boy using a walker to stabilize himself so that he could play with a puppy about Phil’s size at age 2 months.
Buck snapped out of his trance as soon as his captain said the words, Animal control .
“Wait, Cap. That dog isn’t trying to hurt the man. It’s trying to alert people. He or she is probably a service dog that catches seizure alerts.” Buck said while Hen was attneidng to the man having the seizure with his hand stuck in the fence.
“He’s correct.” A woman wearing the L. A Animal Control Uniform said to the group of firefighters.
While Buck chatted with the Animal Control officer, Hen and Chimney cared for the man experiencing a seizure. Buck, however, found himself focused on a different hero—the service dog waiting patiently by the stretcher. The dog’s ears perked up, and its tail wagged as it leaned toward Buck, seemingly captivated by his cologne, as if recognizing Phil’s familiar scent clinging to his uniform. For the first time in months, Buck felt a sense of joy and purpose—not as a firefighter, but as someone who had helped train a remarkable pup like Phil. The dog’s gentle curiosity and calm presence filled Buck’s heart, reminding him of the happiness his furry friend had brought into his life. It wasn’t just a call—it was a moment of connection and hope that made everything feel a little brighter.
“Hey, buddy. Let’s get you some water. You must be thirsty after all that running around.” Buck said as the service dog wasled by his side towards the firetruck where the 118’s new Probie was passing out waters to other dog owners.
To his delight, Buck discovered a spare water bowl tucked in his backpack, a small reminder of the times Phil had tagged along on ride-along when Ravi wasn’t on shift. Smiling at the memory, he filled the bowl to the brim and set it gently on the ground for the service dog. The dog immediately leaned down, its tail wagging softly as it drank, still keeping a watchful eye on its owner, who rested on the stretcher nearby. Hen and Chim stayed close, tending to the man, but Buck couldn’t help but focus on the dog’s quiet devotion. In that tender moment, he felt a deep connection to the animal—a shared understanding of loyalty and love. It warmed his heart in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Buck, what are you doing?” Athena Grant walked up to him with her hands on her hips.
She had been at the scene of the emergency since Bobby had called for police backup to get parkgoers out of the way.
“Giving, ummm…Trinity, some water.” He said innocently giving her a genuine smile that wasn’t 100% a fake Buckley smile.
“I see that. Shouldn’t you be helping your team out?” Athena said as she looked over at her husband who orchestrated the team to put the stretcher with the man in the back of the ambulance.
“Well yes, but this park is kind of special to me. I don’t want to ruin that special spark with this call. Hen and Chimney look like they’ve gotten the man’s health to be stable.” Buck said to the police officer even though he knew it wasn’t a good excuse.
Memories of afternoons at the park with Chris flooded Buck’s mind, a bittersweet distraction that tugged at his heart. He could almost hear Chris’s laughter, pointing out dogs and begging for their names, and Eddie’s teasing remarks about Buck dodging the question of getting Chris a pet. Lost in the daydream, Buck didn’t notice the ambulance door closing until it was too late. The service dog, so loyal and comforting, had already hopped inside, returning to its owner in the hospital.
And just like that, Buck was alone again. No Chris to share those moments with. No Eddie to bicker with or laugh alongside. Not even Phil to fill the void with his wagging tail and bright eyes. The scene felt eerily quiet now, save for Athena standing a few feet away, offering a silent presence. Buck shoved his hands into his pockets, watching the ambulance pull away, the absence of connection weighing heavier than he wanted to admit.
“Buck, you are on firetruck cleaning duty when we get back to the station. I’m not giving you a strike for you since you weren’t even doing your job today. Show me that you can be a leader next time, okay? You aren’t a probie anymore. You didn’t even hear my orders. You are on kitchen duty too since I know that helps you get your mind off of things. Don’t worry, you aren;t in trouble. I want to talk to you in the kitchen,” Captain Nash said while the ambulance sped off to the hospital with the man and his service dog in the back on a stretcher.
“Yes sir, Cap.” Buck said with his head down as he sat in the passenger seat of the truck as they drove back to the station in silence.
This call wasn’t triggering or upsetting for anyone. It was a normal medical call. The only issue was that Buck was in a daydreamland thinking about the Diaz boys. Lately, every place in L.And every item he cooked reminded him of them. It was like grieving the loss of someone who wasn’t dead. Eddie was only a few thousand miles away, ignoring Buck.
At the station, Bobby handed him an apron as he stepped out of the shower, fresh from the dog park call. Cleaning the fire truck could wait until the end of the day. First, the firefighters needed to eat before another call interrupted them before lunchtime.
Everyone else on the team went to either do chores or rest up until the next call.
“Would you mind washing the vegetables? I’m making a quick stir fry since I got chicken from the store the other day.” Bobby Nash said as Buck tied the apron around his waist as if he was helping his parent out in the kitchen.
“Hmmmm.” Buck said while starting on his task.
As the two men stood side by side in the kitchen, it seemed too be too (insert the q word.)
“Are you okay, Buck? If you need PTO or a vacation, you can say so. I won’t punish you for taking a mental health break. All firefigthers are required to take time off.” Bobby said as he watched the younger man chop vegetables slowly.
“Have you heard anything from Eddie? No one else will tell me anything. It’s like he either blocked my number or everyone is keeping me away from him because they think I’m fragile and can’t handle the distance.” Buck blurted out while his chopping speed increased and grew louder.
This was the golden question that had been on the tip of his tongue since the Hot Shots Buzzfeed Interview with Brad.
Even Phil missed Eddie’s presence. He was only a one-month-old puppy when Buck and Eddie met him. But he had an incredible memory just like his owner did.
“No, I haven’t heard a word from him since he resigned from the 118. Have you heard anything from him?” Bobby said as he stopped what he was doing so that he could focus on Buck.
“I miss him. I haven’t heard anything since he left for Texas. Did I do something wrong?,” Buck whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of his grief.
He didn’t hesitate….he wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and wrapped his captain in a hug so tight it felt like he was trying to hold the shattered pieces together. But no embrace, no matter how strong, could mend the vast emptiness or soothe the raw ache of his heartbreak.
The two men lingered in the kitchen for a few quiet minutes until the bell rang again. His captain turned to him, resting a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Stay back and focus on making lunch for the team,” he said gently, his voice full of care.
"You’re not in the right shape for a medical call right now, and that’s okay. Remember, Buck, you’re not alone.” With a reassuring squeeze, he hurried off, taking the stairs two at a time, leaving Buck with a sense of comfort in his words.
But Buck had another idea, a stupid idea that meant that Phil had to stay with the Wilson family for a little while longer. That was okay because Mara and Denny loved Phil’s company.