fiery buck

He begins cleaning up. Doesn’t ask for help. They’re all enjoying themselves and he doesn’t want to disturb them. He can hear everybody laughing in the living room while he’s washing the plates by hand. Maddie insisted they use their fancy dish-ware for the occasion which are hand wash only. He’s halfway through the dishes when Eddie walks into the kitchen to grab another beer.

“Why are you doing in here? Christopher wants you to play UNO with him.”

“Tell him I’ll be there in a minute—just want to finish clearing up.” He turns back to the task at hand.

“C’mon, you can clear up later.”

“Some of the pans need to be cleaned now before the food gets stuck. It won’t take long.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “What happened to you, Buck? You used to be fun.”

Buck turns his head to reply but Eddie is already walking away.

It’s fine.

He finishes cleaning most of the dishes except for a couple of pans that need some extra soaking, and he’s boxing up all of the leftovers when Maddie walks into the kitchen.

“Did you clean up?” She looks around the almost spotless kitchen.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You should have asked us to help.” She says.

Buck shrugs. “Didn’t want to disturb your guys’s fun.” He gives a smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asks softly.

“Yeah, why?”

“You seem.. quieter than usual.” She’s looks genuinely concerned.

“It’s.. it’s the first thanksgiving without Bobby.” Maddie nods sympathetically. “And every time I start to feel like I’m okay, I-“

“Mommy.” Jee walks into the kitchen with a look that Buck recognises as the one where she’s about 30 seconds from crying. “Mara won’t give me my doll back.”

Maddie softly rolls her eyes. “Okay, come on.” She leads her daughter back to the living room leaving Buck alone in the kitchen again.

It’s fine.

It’s getting late and everyone is finding their shoes and coats to leave. Buck gestures to all the leftovers boxed up on the table.

“There’s leftovers for everyone.” He reminds them.

Hen waves her hand. “None for us, but thanks.”

“Eddie?”

“Us either. It’ll probably all just go bad in the fridge.” He tells Buck.

Buck turns to his sister “Hey, least you don’t have to cook dinner for the next few days.”

“Actually, could you take them?” She says.

“All of them?” There’s so much leftover than Buck wouldn’t be able to go through it all before it all would need to be thrown out. He wouldn’t mind so much usually, but all of the effort he’d put into cooking for everybody, he hated seeing all that effort wasted.

“You cooked, right? If anyone deserves the leftovers it’s you.” She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. She meant well, Buck knew that. And at least it was some acknowledgment that he’d cooked for everyone. He lets its go.

He thinks about the evening as he’s driving home. It was nice to see everybody together—that doesn’t happen much these days. But it’s not like it used to be, not even close. At least not for him—everybody else seemed to be acting like business as usual and he can’t for the life of him understand how they find it so easy. He knows they all miss Bobby but they don’t seem to be affected by it like he is.

He notices Bobbys absence every time he walks into the station and he’s not there cooking breakfast. He notices when he does something a little impulsive and Bobby isn’t there to reel him back in. And when they’re all sitting around the thanksgiving dinner table, to eat a meal that Bobby didn’t cook, he notices his absence at the table.

If he’d have had the chance to speak at dinner he’d have said how thankful he was to have had Bobby in his life. How thankful he was that Bobby taught him more about how to be a man than his own father. And he would definitely have spoken of his thanks that Bobby took the time to teach him how to cook. But he never got the chance to.

He felt.. invisible. They saw him and spoke to him over the course of the evening but about nothing more than surface level stuff. Every conversation he’d been involved in was instigated by him. Nobody asked how he was doing, nobody offered help to cook, and nobody thanked him for his efforts. He wonders if he’d have left at any point how long it would have taken them to notice.

He pulls into his driveway and looks down at the ridiculous amount of Tupperware containers on his passenger seat.

It’s not fine.

He puts the car into reverse and pulls back out onto the street and drives away.

****

His adrenaline was pumping hard as he drove to his destination, but by the time he’s standing at the door, a plethora of Tupperware boxes in his arms, he’s starting to question his decision.

He sees the blurry form of the man through the frosted glass of the window and his heart rate shoots up.

Please dear god let this be the right decision.

Forget his heart rate shooting up—it damn near stopped the second Tommy opened the door. He’s just as handsome as when Buck last saw him at Bobbys funeral and his stomach twisted and filled with butterflies just as it always did. Tommy’s hair was mussed up and his skin was a little darker under his eyes—a sure fire tell that he’d just gotten off shift.

He’s clearly surprised to see his ex boyfriend at his doorstep. “Evan? What are- is everything okay?”

“No. I-I mean yes, I mean its..” He knows he’s babbling; a mixture of nerves and his natural response to being in the presence of Tommy. He stops himself and takes a centring breath. “You told me once that you always work holidays, and I didn’t know if you had eaten a proper thanksgiving meal and I made dinner for everyone and there’s a tonne of leftovers and thought maybe you might like some.”

It all came out in one fast-talking continuous sentence and Tommy takes a second for it to sink in. Of course the longer he takes the more nervous Buck gets that he’s over stepped.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I should have called or texted you first.”

“You’re right.” Tommy finally says and Bucks stomach drops in disappointment.

“Right. I’m-I’m sorry, I’ll, uh.. I’ll go.” He turns away but Tommy reaches out and lightly palms his arm.

“No. I meant that you’re right I didn’t have a proper thanksgiving dinner.”

“Oh.” Buck tries to ignore the rising hope in his chest. “Do you..” he lifts up the boxes in his hands.

Tommy gives him a soft smile and steps back, opening the door wider to allow Buck inside. He’d wondered on the driver over if Tommy’s house would feel different but it doesn’t. It’s just as warm and welcoming as it was the last time he’d been here. A vague thought of it feeling like home crossed his mind.

Half an hour and a heated up dinner later Buck is sat with Tommy at his breakfast table drinking a mug of tea while Tommy tucks into his dinner.

“Is it inappropriate to say that I missed your cooking?” Tommy’s asks.

Buck chuckles. “I’ll allow it.” Tommy smiles with a mouth full of stuffing and he still looks beautiful as ever.

“You, uh we’re on shift today?”

Tommy nods and swallows his mouthful. “4 separate rescues of hikers deciding a hike after a full turkey dinner was a good idea.“

“It’s like going swimming after eating.”

“Exactly.” Tommy finishes his last bite and wipes his mouth, sitting back in his seat. “So.. how are you?”

Buck wants to tell him he’s fine. He doesn’t want to admit how things at the 118 have been since Bobby died because Tommy will probably be all sweet and supportive and Buck desperately wants that but he doesn’t know if can handle that coming from his friend Tommy.

However, Tommy always had an uncanny ability to read Buck like a book. It freaked him out a bit when they first started dating but over time he grew to be comforted by it. Really did he ever have to tell Tommy that something was bothering him—Tommy always knew.

“I.. things are.. it’s been hard.”

Tommy looks at him sympathetically. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to bother you. I’m probably just making things about me again.” He wasn’t the one who died or lost a husband. What right does have to expect anybody to drop everything and comfort him?

A perplexing look crossed Tommy’s face. “Again?”

“I do have a habit of making situations about me. You remember how I acted out when we first met and you were hanging out with Eddie.”

“Yeah. I also remember the reason why.” Tommy reminds him and Buck can’t help the blush from sneaking its way across his cheeks.

“That’s.. that was different. Everybody is grieving Bobby—I’m not special. I don’t deserve support over everybody else.”

“Evan, are you.. are you not getting any support from anyone?”

“It’s not their faults.” Buck replied defensively. “They-they all have their families to help them, they don’t need me.”

“Okay. But what support are you getting?”

Buck can’t help but look away embarrassed. He shrugs in response. “One of the last things Bobby said to me was that they were going to need me, but they don’t.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“But it is, Tommy. I’ve tried so hard to be there for everyone and-and make sure they’re okay but they just push me away. I even tried cooking like Bobby used to—I thought making family dinners might be a nice way to keep a piece of Bobby around, but they’d just order something in for themselves instead. It’s like.. like I’m invisible.” He quickly wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, Evan.” Tommy put his hand on Buck’s shoulder. “You could have called me.”

“I wanted to, but I didn’t think I had the right to after that night we had and what I said you—it would have been selfish to call for your help again.”

“It’s not selfish to need support. And as for that day.. you were honest about how you felt and I can’t ask for more than that.”

“No!” Buck loudly protested. “It wasn’t how I felt. I.. I was just angry that-that you thought Eddie was your competition and I lashed out. It wasn’t how I felt. Not at all.”

“Oh.” Is all Tommy replies with.

“But you are right—I should’ve called. Not for me, but to see how you are.” With everything that has happened the last few months, Buck kept forgetting the Tommy cared for Bobby, too.

“Me? Oh I’m fine.” He waves away Bucks words.

“Bobby was your captain, too, Tommy, and I should have been there for you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I was so focused on trying to live out Bobby’s last words to me that I didn’t stop think about you and how you felt about everything.”

As the words leave his mouth he realises that it’s an exact repeat of what happened in their relationship—he ran with the pace Tommy allowed him to move at but never checked in with him.

“That’s the second time I’ve done that to you.” He admits.

“Evan, it wasn’t-“

“Tommy, if you’re about to say that it wasn’t my fault that we broke up, please don’t. I ran ahead at a thousand miles per hour and never bothered to talk to you about it; ask you if you were comfortable or-or if you needed to slow down. I don’t blame you for leaving when I asked you to move in—it was too soon. But..”

“But what?”

“But you didn’t have to leave. You-you could’ve told me that you weren’t ready to move in.”

Tommy shakes his head. “I was ready, that was the problem.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t matter, now.” Tommy says standing up to bring his plate to the sink. Buck can’t help the frustration that rises inside of him.

“It does matter, Tommy.” He argues.

“We don’t need to talk about it, now.” Tommy volleys back.

“Okay, no.” Buck gets up and stands a few feet away from Tommy. “No, see this is the main issue we had before—we never talked. We-we never asked and we never talked. So I’m asking you to explain what you meant.”

Tommy, still facing the sink, looks up at the ceiling and sighs. Buck watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows before turning to face Buck.

“You scare the shit out of me.”

That is definitely not what Buck was expecting to hear.

“I do? How?”

“By being you.” Buck’s brows knit tightly together in abject confusion. “Evan, you are the kindest and sweetest and most loving person I have ever met. You’re thoughtful, generous, loyal to a fault and have a heart the size of Alaska. There is not a single malicious bone in your body and in the 6 months we were together you showed me more kindness and grace and care than I’d ever experienced.”

“I don’t.. I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.”

“The deeper feelings I grew for you the more I got used to how good you made me feel. How wanted, how.. cherished. And the thought of that stopping?” He shook his head. “I loved the way you always looked at me; made me feel like.. like I was a hero. Your hero. So, I tried to be that; tried to be the big, strong man you needed but the whole time I was terrified the mask would slip and you’d see the man underneath who never felt worthy of you.”

Buck is, quite honestly, stunned into silence. Not least because Tommy was right. Mostly.

He did put him on some sort of pedestal. Tommy is by far the coolest guy he’d ever met. Firefighter pilot who saves lives everyday, physically strong, gorgeous and charming to boot? He was like every action hero rolled into one!

But despite what some of the others think, Buck isn’t naïve—he knows that Tommy isn’t perfect. As solid as Tommy thinks his mask was when they were together, Buck still noticed when he’d change the subject when his past came up or the subtle changes in his expression when he wanted to disagree with something Buck said but didn’t.

“Did I ever give you any indication that I would leave you if I found out that you weren’t perfect?”

“No, but-“

“But what? Tommy, you are my hero.” He raises his hand to stop Tommy from arguing. “And I don’t mean in a perfect, superhero kind of way. I mean it because you have fought to be where you are today. I’m not dumb—I know there are things in your past you don’t like to talk about. I can see it in your eyes sometimes or-or when you change the topic of conversation. But you’re still here. You’re still you and despite the things you’ve been through, whatever they are, you’re still one of the best people I know.

Tommy turns away and shakes his head. He was never any good at hearing positive affirmations about himself.

“I wish I could see myself the way that you do.” He admits quietly. “Me leaving wasn’t about you making me think you’d end things at some point, it was because everything in my life I’ve lo- cared for has been taken away from me. It’s so difficult to trust that good things stay.”

Buck raises an eyebrow. “Did you just say it’s not you it’s me?” There’s a sliver of a smirk decorating his mouth and Tommy playfully rolls his eyes.

“Technically yes, but it’s true. It’s why before, when you stopped me from speaking, I was going to say that you are not entirely to blame for our break up. Yes, you were right—you did run 1000 steps ahead without letting me know where you were going and that wasn’t okay. But, I had a mouth—a voice, that I could’ve used to tell you to slow down.”

Silence engulfs them for a little while as they stand side by side leaning against the counter. Buck feels oddly better. He still feels like his life is upside down and still has no clue how to make things better. But finally having a real conversation with Tommy, even one where they’re confessing their mistakes and pointing out others, has lifted some of that unbearable weight off of his shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Tommy.” He says softly. “For my part in what happened.”

Tommy looks at him sincerely. “I’m sorry, too.”

Buck is unsure whether the next thing he wants to say is appropriate. Or least if it’s the right time. But in the spirit of honesty, and more than a little desperation, he decides to just go for it.

“I love you.” He confesses. “You know that, right? I have since before we broke up. I-I kick myself every day I didn’t just tell you that instead of asking you to move in.”

Tommy, still with a look of surprise plastered across his face, replies. “Why didn’t you?”

“We’ve already established that I have a tendency to get ahead of myself.” He chuckled and Tommy, mercifully, reciprocates. “Sometimes I get so far ahead that I just assume everybody else knows what page I’m on. Typically I only realise that’s not been the case when it blows up in my face.”

Tommy, looking decidedly contemplative, doesn’t say anything for a minute.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same about me.” It’s not okay at all but the last thing Buck wants it’s Tommy to feel more shitty than he already does.

“Thats the thing..” Here it comes, Buck thinks. “I do feel the same.”

Oh.

For a moment his lungs forget how to breathe. His heart is hammering against his ribcage. But he’s still trying to keep his hopes at a reasonable level.

“You.. you do?”

“It was never about not loving you, Evan. Never. It’s was about.. I’m not a brave man.”

Buck snorts at that. “Says the firefighter.”

“That’s different. Work is.. There are rules and regulations—guidelines to keep up safe. Love is.. I know what I’m doing in a fire. Yes, it can be unpredictable but for the most part I know what will happen if I make a mistake. Giving my heart, my whole heart, to somebody.. that’s infinitely scarier.”

This should not be as enamouring as it is, yet Buck is so endeared by Tommy’s candour he stiffens as a means to stop himself from jumping him. He takes a second then steps into Tommy’s space, taking each of his hands as his. Tommy sucks in a nervous breath at the action.

“I’m scared, too, ya know?” Buck admits. “You.. I’ve never..” He takes a deep breath. They’ve been honest with each other so far but now is the time to put all of his cards in the table and hope to god he has a winning hand. “I am more in love you than I know what to do with. As far as I’m concerned you are my last. I believe it, I feel it, I know it. Even if you don’t want me anymore, even we both move on and meet someone else and get married and have babies and the whole white picket fence.. even then you’ll still be my last, and-“

Tommy’s mouth stops his babbling, lips pressing hot and hard into his. It’s messy, uncoordinated, all teeth and tongue and heavy breaths. Buck feels like every one of his bones have melted into syrup and doesn’t resist when Tommy pushes him backwards to the wall opposite. He wants to cry. He wants Tommy to take him in front of everyone he knows to show them that Hey look somebody actually loves me! It’s childish and ridiculous but he doesn’t care because Tommy is kissing along his jaw.

Annoyingly, the few remaining brain cells Tommy has yet to rid him of, do their job and he remembers that part of the reason their relationship imploded the first time was because they were so wrapped up in each other they didn’t talk.

Reluctantly, he speaks up, taking Tommys head gently in his hands and pulling him away. A flash of fear crosses Tommy’s eyes. He places a few extra chaste kisses to his lips.

“I can’t believe that I’m the one saying this but.. we should, uh.. we should slow down.”

Tommy rests his head against Bucks. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but, do we have to?” His tone was deliberately childish and he stuck out his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout.

“I think..” He kisses Tommys cheek. “That it’s for the best.”

Tommy reciprocates the cheek kiss and steps back. He points his thumb behind him towards the counter. “Did I spot some cake in one of those boxes.”

Buck grins proudly. “Chocolate.” Tommy makes a happy sound and Buck feels it in his soul. He takes Bucks hand and leads him to the counter, taking out two forks from the drawer and handing one to Buck.

“How does cake and conversation sound?”

Feeling like a rambling weirdo, Tommy pieces together what he retained from that school project almost Evan's entire lifetime ago. The balloons in his chest keep getting filled at exactly the same rate and volume, causing an equal rise and fall each time.

"You should come back," he blurts out, when he can't take the unnatural lack of response anymore. This man does not passively listen. When he isn't commenting, he's shifting his posture or the angle of his head, turning in, making the other person the only thing that exists to him in that moment. "Just- Just please come back. All those people back there who love you, they're waiting."

He traces the words inked into the side of Evan's forearm and lays a hand over Evan's wrist. "For what it's worth, I'm waiting, too. Open your eyes soon. Okay?"

The flesh under his touch tenses up, the hand trembling. Under the blankets, his knees are moving. "Evan? Oh my God, can you hear me?"

His eyes are still closed, his expression slack beneath the EEG electrodes on his forehead and the device securing the endotracheal tube in his mouth. This isn't purposeful. His entire body is shaking.

Medical staff rush into the room and Tommy is all but shoved out.

Through the glass he watches as everything calms, the twitching and convulsing settling back to the unnatural stillness from before, only for it to all start back up again a few minutes later.

~

"Clinical seizures are common in these cases. It doesn't necessarily indicate a poor prognosis." Maddie's measured words are undercut by the way her expression keeps springing into despair. "There's still a lot we don't know. He could come back to us any minute and make a full recovery."

Eddie, Athena, and the Grant kids go to the chapel. Hen grabs both the Hans in a hug that lasts longer than Evan's seizure.

"Hey." Ravi gives him a nudge. Tommy blinks at him. "I think we could both use some air."

The married couple cling to their dear friend. One of the women sobs loudly.

"Yeah," Tommy says, nodding like a bobblehead.

The tears come as soon as they make it outside, and then his knees turn to water. His entire system feels liquid, amorphous, spreading out in all directions with nothing to keep him together. Is this what it was like when Evan drowned? When he collapsed in that hallway after saying goodbye to Bobby?