liminalmemories

"kate," tommy said firmly. "i'm—"

"oh my god, on a date, i'm so sorry." she stuck her hand out, brushing her ponytail back over her shoulder. "kate ross. sorry for crashing, i'm just—"

"starving," buck finished with her, grinning.

"you would not believe how many calories you burn swimming," kate continued. "mom would murder me if she knew that i waited until nine to eat."

"that's because your mom's a nurse and she knows her stuff."

"yeah so i balance it out with dad's bad doctor habits." kate winked at buck and drained the rest of tommy's beer. "gotta go! have fun."

"you have a sister too?" buck asked, watching kate run off.

tommy shook his head. "i flew a heart to seattle for her dad when first pres' life flight was on their way to portland and he was so grateful he said i was an honorary family member for life. figured that was it, but then kate moved down here for school and now i have a roommate on long weekends."

tommy sighed as their waitress stopped in the middle of the restaurant to talk to one of the other servers. she handed their billfold over to the guy, and tommy squinted at the half-pony that was all he could see of the other server. then he turned around and tommy got a faceful of a familiar smirk. he swallowed a groan, not wanting evan to think it was related to their conversation.

"your bill," eliot spencer said, sliding to a stop beside them. tommy took it immediately. "credit."

"unfortunately our machine is broken. do you mind accompanying me to the counter while we use our extremely old card imprinter. i would bring it over, but it's bolted down."

evan opened his mouth and as much as tommy wanted to know what he was about to say, he wasn't wiling to risk letting eliot stick around. "yeah, that's fine. i'll be right back, evan." he's out of the booth and following eliot before evan can offer to come with them, and eliot shoots a look over his shoulder. "nice friend you got there, kinard."

"shut up, eliot. i was having a perfectly nice dinner and—"

"i need your help."

"the army doesn't exactly approve of me these days."

"not the army, my other job." eliot slipped him a phone number, handing the receipt back to him. "dinner's on us. give me a call when you get home, i'll let you know what i need."

"what if i wasn't planning on going home?" tommy asked, rolling his eyes. he had zero plans for that — even before evan had told him it was his 'first date with a dude' — but eliot didn't need to know that.

"it's important, tommy."

"must be if you set up a sting just to say hi when you have my number," tommy agreed, shaking his head. "okay. i'll call you in an hour."

tommy was just debating whether they should ask for the check or not when he heard the noise of a scuffle and then two people were crashing into the table they were sitting at. he blinked, glad that he'd had his beer in his hand. the last thing they needed was broken glass on the floor.

evan yelped, scrambling back from the wreckage.

everyone else in the restaurant seemed to be frozen, though tommy thought that he heard someone back in the kitchen on the phone with 911.

what were the chances that athena or the 118 were going to be the ones to be responding to the call? tommy sighed, draining the rest of his beer and jamming the heel of his boot into one guy's wrist when he went for a knife, pinning his arm to the floor.

"kinard! nice to see ya, buddy. thanks for the assist."

"ewan," tommy sighed when the other man surged up and he got a proper look at him. "i should have known. only you would start a fist fight in the middle of the oldest italian restaurant in town."

"well, funny story—" ewan cut himself off and coldcocked the guy underneath him, shaking his head in mock dismay. "no one has manners these days. did you know someone's been following you for the last two days?"

tommy sighed harder. he'd been ignoring that feeling since he'd clocked it, because he'd been out of the service for over a decade and a half and he'd wanted to believe that he was imagining things. "…yeah."

"and you didn't do anything about it? you're getting slow, old man."

"fuck off."

ewan laughed, pulling out a few zipties and trussing the guy up. "hey, how do you feel about free meals? my sister's getting married in a month."

tommy finally looked up at evan, just in time to see his face go through the same journey tommy was sure his had during the 'first date with a dude' speech. "i'll have to see what my schedule looks like," he said finally. 'i'll explain later' he mouthed at evan, although he wasn't sure how one could explain ewan o'hara when there were about twenty nondisclosure agreements involved. "but tell her congratulations for me in the meantime."

"why is it that whenever i get an insane call, at least one member of the 118 is involved?"

"evening, sergeant grant," tommy said, standing up and carefully navigating the broken furniture. "just lucky, i guess."

"tommy! man, i haven't seen you in a minute. geez, it's nice to see you. i've been stuck with nick and jess this week and you wouldn't believe how gross they're getting. it's like they forget that i still live there, you know? and—"

"hey, coach, we were actually kind of—" tommy gestured between them and buck felt his cheeks go hot. he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to tamp down on the way that tommy was trying to tell his friend to get lost made him feel. buck had done that when his friends had interrupted dates with girls, and whenever he'd gotten them to go away his dates had always thanked him for not letting it turn into a bro-out. he got it now.

"damn it, not you too. who am i supposed to bachelor out with now?" coach groaned, giving buck a considering look. "i'll forgive you if you bring the new guy to the game next week, though."

tommy laughed. "you don't want to see evan play basketball, coach."

buck winced, laughing with him. tommy's eyes sparkled. "last time i tried, i nearly broke my best friend's ankle."

"i'm sure you've improved since middle school, legs," coach said.

"that was on thursday," tommy told coach, winking at buck.

"oh damn, you nearly took out a firefighter?" coach shook his head. "well, maybe he can be the water boy. sorry for crashing, t. i'll see you on the court."

buck waited until coach was halfway across the restaurant before looking over at tommy. "coach?"

"sometimes i can't make the first responder pickup game, so i found another one that's close to station. coach runs our team."

"but what's his first name?" buck pressed, intrigued. the fact that tommy was apparently more into basketball than buck had realised was something he could worry about later.

tommy shrugged. "dunno, everyone just calls him coach. for a minute i thought it was winston, but that turned out to be his roommate."

buck laughed. "you don't know his first name? tommy!"

"you're right, i forgot. we don't know anyone who goes almost exclusively by their own nickname," tommy agreed, and buck flicked the straw wrapper he'd balled up at tommy from across the table.

"no, john. that's not how it works. you can't actually—"

tommy knew that voice. he hadn't looked away from evan the entire dinner — he wondered if evan knew how magnetic he really was when he got going — but he turned around when a napkin made contact with the back of his head.

"i'm so sorry, i like to talk with my ha—"

"yeah. i know. don't worry about it. hi, bailey."

"tommy! oh my god! i haven't seen you since the—"

"—the muay thai tournament last year, yeah. you kicked my ass, huh?"

"well it was only fair, after the way that you swore you didn't know capoeira at all and then…"

"in my defense, sanchez did call it something else when he taught it to me."

"oh sure, blame it on the mythical army buddy."

"the same way that you blamed muay thai on your mythical reserve…" tommy trailed off at the look he was getting from bailey's dinner date. "sorry. we didn't even introduce ourselves before we got carried away."

"you get used to it," he said, offering tommy a hand. "john. bailey's worse half."

"tommy kinard. this is evan. we were just grabbing dinner and then a movie."

"john, tommy's a firefighter pilot," bailey gushed, her eyes lighting up. "how did you meet him, evan?"

"ah, he flew us into a hurricane to find a capsized cruise ship," evan said politely, aiming a baffled look at tommy.

"oh, you're a firefighter too! — wait, tommy! that counts as an extreme weather flight, and you said you'd take me on the next one."

"sorry bailey, i didn't know it was happening until we were about to go up. next time, really."

"oh good, there's two of you adrenaline junkies," john said, offering evan a commiserating nod. "don't suppose you know construction?"

"i actually worked for a contractor out in michigan for almost a year," evan offers, grinning back at him. "i could probably do just about anything reno-wise."

their waitress reappeared with the bill and tommy paid for it, excusing themselves from the conversation and wishing john and bailey a good rest of the night. evan waited until they were on the sidewalk before turning to tommy with an eyebrow raised. "just how many people do you know in this town?"

"hmm? sorry," tommy said, not sorry at all. "i was a little distracted by the image of you wearing a tool belt and knocking down a wall with a sledgehammer."

"why?" evan asked, taking a step closer. "you thinking of renovating your house?"

plus one time it happened to buck

"holy shit," josh said, sitting down at the table beside buck and tommy. buck nearly choked on his beer and josh laughed, handing him a napkin. "i don't believe it. i thought you were joking when you asked your sister if she was setting us up."

"i — i was joking about that," buck said, looking between them. he really hoped tommy wasn't getting the wrong idea. "what are you doing here, josh?"

"getting dinner," josh said slowly, arching an eyebrow at buck. "do you want me to get another table and pretend i never saw you here?"

"why would you do that?" buck frowned. tommy arched an eyebrow at him.

"because you're getting dinner with tommy, who i… know? from around? we have friends in common?" josh prodded, giving buck a significant look. "i'm not about to out anyone, buck."

"i'm not — i mean — lots of people check out hot guys, josh!" buck exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

"and most of them are interested in dating those hot guys," josh agreed, shooting an amused look at tommy. "have a good night, you two. i'm going to get a table on the other side of the restaurant."

"so," tommy's eyes sparkled as he smirked at buck. "what kind of hot guys do you check out?"

buck groaned. "can we ignore the last five minutes?"

The Henry in Alex’s memory is tall, lanky, good-looking in a way Alex never really thought about because he’s just Henry and that’s like, his face. It was a good face. Maybe Alex’s favourite, in hindsight.

The Henry standing in front of Alex now is almost unrecognisable from the high school version living in his head. In fact, Alex isn’t certain how he recognised Henry immediately, he just did. Maybe there’s something to be said for core memories.

The Henry standing in front of Alex has his blond hair tied back in a top knot, the side of his head shaved. He still has the same blue eyes and straight nose. The roundness of childhood and his teen years has given way to cheekbones and a jaw you could cut glass with. There are several piercings in his ears, he’s wearing a septum ring and Alex is pretty sure he can see something glinting in the side of Henry’s nose too.

Henry’s shoulders are really fucking broad and he’s wearing a black cut off tank that’s slightly cropped in a way that should be illegal and makes it very fucking clear that Henry’s waist is tiny in a very slutty way and also that he works out because beneath the tattoos covering his arms, he’s fucking jacked.

Alex isn’t sure he remembers how to breathe.

Henry’s wearing ripped jeans and combat boots and Alex isn’t fucking blind, he can see the shape of Henry’s thighs underneath the denim.

In his periphery, Tommy can see Maddie's chin wobble, can see Howie shift closer to her. He's too focused on the little square on screen where he and Evan are seated next to each other, trying to parse what he can from the tiny version of Evan's face he can see there.

He squeezes Evan's hand, presses their legs together, tries to say I'm here, I'm here, I'm here without diverting the physical markers of his attention from these people he's met once (bad parents, good people, he remembers Evan saying once, before he tacked on but they're trying) who are doing their best to deliver this body blow to their kids in a way that won't wreck them.

There's some more talk - working out some possibilities for a visit. Logistics. Tommy doesn't pay much attention. He's too focused on the way the exhaustion on Phillip's face is getting louder by the second, the way he's clearly struggling to follow along, the way Margaret looks so afraid beneath the veneer of practicality that Tommy thinks she might shatter.

"I'm sorry," Phillip says after a few more minutes of conversation flowing around him and about him. "I think I need to lie down for a spell.

"Okay, dad," Maddie says, gentle. Evan nods along.

"We'll talk to you soon," he adds.

Phillip smiles, and Tommy doesn't usually see too much of a family resemblance, but that's Evan's best self-deprecating smile to a tee and it makes Tommy's heart seize painfully in his chest.

"Just so long as you don't expect too much witty repartee," he says. "Turns out you need more of your brain available for that than I'm currently working with."

Margaret says Phillip in the same instant Maddie says dad and their eyes brim with matching tears. Tommy's still got his eyes on miniature screen Evan though, and sees him go through a face journey that expresses relief and amusement and horrible pre-emptive grief in the space of a split second.

"Whatever you've got," Evan says.

"We love you," Margaret says. "We'll call soon."

And then the video call is down to two connections.

"Jesus," Maddie says, and wipes her eyes.

Evan nods, his face calm and stoic and so clearly not allowing himself to feel anything. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Maddie doesn't try to wipe away the next spill of tears. "I have no idea."

"Let's talk later," Howie says, and Tommy nods.

Evan doesn't move, so Tommy has to use his free hand to reach forward and close the call. Evan still doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Doesn't take his eyes off the tablet screen as it fades to black.

"Hey," Tommy says.

Nothing.

"Baby," Tommy tries.

Evan sucks in a breath like he's been startled awake.

"I," he manages and then he crumples. Tommy scoops him up just in time for Evan to sob into his shoulder. It passes quickly and Evan pulls away from Tommy's clasping, anxious hold.

"Can't breathe," he says, snotty and stuffy, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. "Fuck. Fuck."

"I'm so sorry," Tommy says, and if he can't hold Evan like he wants he'll settle for running a hand up and down his back, as slow and steady and consistent as he can manage. I'll help, he wants to say. You can rely on me, I promise, I promise.

"I thought," Evan says. "Shit. I really thought something like this would be easier."

Than Bobby, goes unsaid. So does because I can prepare and because he loved me better and because I loved him more.

He cried for a minute, maybe two, but he looks like he's been weeping for hours. Red eyes, puffy eyelids, feverish cheeks. Tommy wipes away a couple of tears that spill and Evan takes a deep breath. Then another.

Then he says, small and scared, like Tommy's going to judge him for having a complicated relationship with fathers and father figures, he asks, "Can I say something?"

"Baby, you can say whatever you need," Tommy promises.

"We've been trying. He's been trying. It's been getting better and now - and now - " Evan's crying again by the time he gets the end of the sentence out. "And now it'll never just be good."

He lets Tommy hold him again but again, it's only brief before he rears upright and tries to breathe through his blocked-up nose and his trembling lungs.

"Shit. Shit."

Tommy's phone goes off and he ignores it at first. Evan wipes his face and says, "You should check that. It could be work."

"They have other pilots," Tommy tells him.

"Please," Evan insists, his chin wobbling.

Tommy will do anything he can right now to make this easier so he nods and scoops his phone up from where it's sitting beside the tablet on the coffee table. When he unlocks it, he sees that he's been added to a group chat: him, Howie, and Phillip. There's one message:

Look after them for me.

Once the wave of confusing, awful feelings has washed over him, he tilts his phone so Evan can see the screen. He lets out a brief, wounded noise and then laughs once, slightly hysterical before it gives way to honest-to-god giggles.

"What the fuck," he says wiping his eyes again. "I didn't even know he could make a group chat, that's - that's c-crazy."

Tommy lifts Evan's hand to his mouth, kisses his knuckles.

"Wanna DoorDash three different desserts and go to bed stupid early?" he offers.

Evan's smile is a brief, trembling, beautiful thing.

"I want that so much," he says.