#rob fics

Tommy feels anger flare up, but he tries to shut it down first, just like he has been this past week; having to stand next to Gerard at the service, having to listen to Athena's mother make a tasteless comment when she thought no one could hear her, having to get dressed down and get handed his suspension three days ago. He takes a deep breath, knowing it's audible to Eddie, before responding.

"Look, Eddie," Tommy says, careful and measured, "I don't know what you're trying to say here, but I don't think now is the time for Evan and I to talk. He has a lot going on, obviously. Before he called me for the helicopter ride, we didn't exactly leave things on good terms--"

"Yeah, asshole, I know what you said to him." Eddie says, sharp and hissing, "I know what he said to you. I also know that he called you and you came running, not just for Chim."

"Alright--" Tommy starts, feeling heat and rage building up his spine, but Eddie cuts him off again.

"I also know that you are the only person he has let himself break down in front of. That night, after...after Bobby died," Eddie's voice breaks here, "I know you picked him up and brought him home and I can't repay you for it. I have to ask you to do it again."

Tommy sits, struck silent by the sudden desperation that cracks through Eddie's voice.

"And," Eddie starts again, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be a dick, not tonight of all nights. But Buck is numb right now, he's acting like he's fine, he won't stop moving and doing things, and helping. I know he thinks he's doing the right thing but I have to go back to Texas tomorrow and I'm afraid that this is going to kill him too."

"Eddie..." Tommy practically whispers, feeling like his strings have been cut. He eyes his keys and wallet where they sit by the front door.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I have to ask you to come over. I'm his best friend but I've been a pretty shitty one and I just can't get him to break out of this--this mask he has on. Please, Tommy. Please come over. Karen said I can crash on their couch tonight, and I'll come back in the morning."

"What if--what if I make it worse?" Tommy asks, suddenly scared. He's getting up though, headed for his shoes because as he's come to find out he has a really hard time staying away from Evan Buckley.

"I don't think there is worse, Tommy. I think there's Buck, shouldering this until he breaks down. I can't let him go back to work like this. I can't leave California thinking he's going to act risky on a rescue and get himself--"

Eddie can't finish, and Tommy gets it. He knows, on a micro level, what it's like to lose Evan Buckley. He knows what it would do to him, to everyone, for it to happen completely.

Tommy's got his boots on and his wallet in his pocket and his keys in his hands; and he's doing this.

"Okay," he says, itching to just go already. "Okay, Eddie, I'm coming. I'll be there in twenty."

Eddie breathes, and Tommy hears the slightest sniffle. "Thank you, Tommy--" he starts, before Tommy suddenly hears Evan's voice calling out in the background, "Eddie? Who are you talking to?"

"Just Chris," Eddie says back, and Tommy winces. The call hangs up, but Tommy doesn't let it deter him. He walks out of his front door.

"Thank you. I'm sorry." Is all Eddie says before he smoothly slips out the door with a bag over his shoulder and heads right for Evan's truck. The door closes behind him and Tommy stares into the house, can hear Evan moving around in the kitchen.

The drive passes in a blur, and suddenly he's at Evan's house. He doesn't have to knock, Eddie must have been waiting because he throws open the door and looks at Tommy with wide and strained eyes.

"Eddie?" Evan's voice calls, and he rounds the corner in an apron, drying his hands on a towel, but stops short when he sees Tommy. "Tommy. What--where's--"

"Eddie went to Hen and Karen's. He called me."

Tommy sees the flip, sees what must be scaring Eddie so badly. Evan's jaw sets, his shoulders pull back, his eyes harden.

"Well," he says coolly, "I'm fine. If he needed time away from me he could have just--"

"That's not why," Tommy says, keeping his hands at his waist and his eyes trained on Evan. Tommy knows this isn't like talking someone off the edge, this is going to be a fight. "He's worried about you."

Evan scoffs, throws the towel across his shoulder, and puts his hands on his hips. "I'm fine, Tommy. I'm sorry you came all this way, I made a coffee cake if you want some to go, but--"

"I don't think you are fine, Evan." Tommy says bluntly. Evan's jaw ticks slightly, and Tommy is like a bloodhound with a scent. "I think you're acting fine for everyone else--"

"I know how I feel--"

"I'm not saying you don't. I'm saying you're lying--"

"I'm not lying!" Evan says, volume rising but still controlled, emotion finally cracking through the controlled exterior Tommy had seen earlier at the funeral, something that's Evan and not this picture of the perfectly strong mourning team member he's created. "I am fi--"

"Stop telling me you're fine," Tommy cuts across him, realizing that this is the most emotion he's seen from Evan since Tommy had held him in the back of the ambulance that followed Chimney and Hen to the hospital, the thought Eddie was right shooting through him.

"I am!" Evan shouts, throwing his hands up. It strikes Tommy that this is the first time they've even raised their voices at each other, even after months of dating, and he sees it hit Evan at the same time. His shout seems to echo and Evan takes a moment to close his eyes and breathe deeply before continuing at a normal volume. "I'm fine. Bobby said I would be okay and I am. He said the others would need me."

Tommy's heart breaks then, feels a cracking below his ribs, feels sick to his stomach. Evan's eyes have gone glossy and he's blinking quick. There's so much they never got to know about eachother because Tommy cut them apart after only half a year; but Tommy has seen Evan in the throes of grief, and he's seen him shoulder bad shifts and patients lost. But this is something entirely new, and it's Bobby's fault.

"I'm sorry he said that to you, Evan."

That pulls Evan up short, confusion and upset breaking through his mask. "No, no, it's--" Evan starts, but Tommy's got the thread now, hee knows how to unravel this. He takes a step closer, slowly.

"I'm sorry Bobby said that," another step forward, "I don't know if he meant this, Evan."

"Tommy--" Evan says weakly, not moving even as Tommy gets closer, "that's not fair, don't say that. Why are you here? You left, you--"

Tommy knows what Evan's doing, a last ditch effort to slice at Tommy and get him to turn around. Tommy won't, not this time.

"I'm sorry Bobby died, Evan," Tommy says, just a few steps away now, "I'm sorry you think he meant that you had to be strong for everyone and not let anyone know how badly this hurts. That's not what he meant, Evan."

"Stop, please, stop Tommy--" Evan chokes out, taking a stumbling step back as Tommy continues to advance.

"Bobby, like everyone else, always knew that your heart is what makes you, Evan," Tommy says, stopping when he's within grabbing distance, "he would never want you to cut yourself off from it like this. I think he wanted you to be okay, not now but later--he wanted you to know that it's going to be good when you're happy again, some day."

Evan blinks, once, twice, and he can't keep the tears at bay any longer. They slide down his cheeks in thick drops, and his breathing grows ragged. He says nothing, just looks at Tommy with a face that's a combination of grief and fear.

"Evan," Tommy says slowly and carefully, looking Evan in the eyes and reaching hand out to grab his arm, "I know Bobby was like a dad to you, and he died. He's dead, and I'm so sorry."

Tommy yanks gently, and Evan comes to him with no resistance. Tommy grabs him up in his arms and feels it when Evan's legs give out, drops them slowly to the floor as Evan lets out a heaving sob, and grips him as hard as he can, crushing this beautiful and hurting man to his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Evan." Tommy says again over Evan's sobs and wails.

"He--he--" Evan tries to speak but he can't get the words out, Tommy lets him try anyway, "He said he loved--"

Tommy feels the muscles in his arms clench and protest at the way he's gripping Evan, afraid that he'll fly apart if Tommy lets go.

"How do I do this? How do I do this without him?" Evan gets out in stops and starts, chest heaving against Tommy's, "How could he leave me?"

Tommy just holds him as waves of grief and anger in equal measure seem to wash over him.

Tommy doesn't know how long they stay there on the floor, too long probably for his knees and back, but Evan eventually quiets in his arms. He loosens his grip once but Evan jerks like he's been hit, so Tommy tightens his arms once more.

Evan's breathing finally evens out, his sobs subside, and he pulls his head up to look at Tommy.

"You came," Evan says, red rimmed eyes fighting valiantly to show hope admist all of their tragedy. "After I ignored you for days."

"I can't stay away from you for very long," Tommy says before his brain can catch up with his mouth, "also, Eddie is kind of an asshole when he wants to be, but he cares. He wants to make sure you're taken care of too."

Buck nods, gulping and snaking an arm out of Tommy's hold to wipe at his face.

"I didn't--I thought I was hiding it well. I thought I was doing what Bobby said."

Tommy sighs, not unkindly, and lifts a hand to cradle Evan's jaw.

"I meant what I said. I think...I think Bobby was telling you that losing him was going to hurt you, but one day you'll be okay. It won't hurt any less, but you'll have room for everything else. And...when he said that the others would need you, he meant that you can't follow him. There are so many people in your life that need you."

Evan makes a wounded noise and leans into Tommy's hand, "I wouldn't--"

"That's what was scaring Eddie so much," Tommy says, cutting him off far more gently than earlier, "he was scared to go back to Texas not knowing if you would start taking unnecessary risks on the job."

Evan is quiet, heartbreak in his eyes but no denial. They're both silent as they both let it sink in. Eventually, Tommy sees exhaustion settle onto Evan. His shoulders slump and his mouth is parted on slightly labored breathing.

"Let's get you to bed, huh?" Tommy says, preparing them to stand, "it's been a long day."

Tommy gets to his feet and pulls Evan up with him, turning and leading them to the bedroom. He gently pushes Evan toward his dresser to change and Tommy steps back into the kitchen to turn the lights off and drain the sink where Evan had been hand washing dishes. He fills up a glass of water to bring back with him.

When he returns to the bedroom, Evan is sitting on the edge in a pair of shorts and worn looking t-shirt. Tommy stands in front of him and speaks gently.

"You should try to sleep, Evan," Tommy hands over the water and is satisfied when he automatically drinks half of it. "I can crash on the couch, okay? Eddie said he'll be back in the morning."

Evan nods, but looks far away for a moment. Tommy makes a move to start heading out but is stopped when Evan half rises from the bed and gets a hand on Tommy's wrist.

"Wait. I know--" he says, sounding nervous but determined, "I know we aren't, uh, together right now. But. I lov--"

"Wait," Tommy interrupts him, and Evan looks at him in despair. Tommy gently pushes him back onto the bed and sits next to him. He twists his hand out of Evan's one-handed grip and grabs at both instead, holds them in his lap. "In the morning, we can talk."

"Bobby died without me saying it to him, Tommy." Tears gather again in Evan's eyes, but his voice is steel, "I'm not going to have anyone else not know how I feel about them, even if it changes nothing between us.

The confession and its desperation hit Tommy like a wave, washing over him and sending his mind and heartbeat racing. He nods, knowing that there's only one reply that sits right with him. He takes a deep breath before speaking.

"Okay," Tommy says, courage striking through him, "I love you, Evan."

Evan's breath hitches, and he looks at Tommy with a trembling mouth.

"I love you too, Tommy."

After everything, it's Evan's small but determined voice in that moment that brings tears to Tommy's eyes. He grabs Evan again and holds him to his chest, sets a kiss on his birthmark and looks at the ceiling, overwhelmed.

"T-there's something wrong w-i-ith Honey!" Graham says, voice hiccuping and making his normal stutter worse.

"Hey, what's going on with Honey, bud?" Buck asks, already reaching to pull the covers off of himself and get out of bed. Tommy is right behind him, and they try to make sense of what Graham is saying as he drags them toward his room.

They arrive into the room, and Buck immediately clocks that there is definitely something wrong with their dog--she's lying on her side at the end of Graham's bed, and while she sees them come in, her tail doesn't wag and her head doesn't twitch beyond her eyes seeing them. She lets out a truly pitiful whine, and Tommy breezes past Buck and Graham to go straight to her.

Tommy looks into her eyes and ears, then feels along her throat and stomach before sending Buck a grim look.

"I think you're right, buddy," Tommy tells Graham, and crouches down to look at their foster son, "I'm going to take Honey to the doctor so she can get looked at. Can you stay here with Evan? I'm sure he can get you both some hot chocolate while you wait for me to get back.

Graham opens his mouth but not much noise comes out, and it's a long moment before Tommy and Buck both notice that his breath is getting too rapid. Buck drops to one knee next to Tommy, and he sees that Graham's cheeks are getting bright red his eyes are darting between them and Honey.

"No I--I go-gotta--can I go please? Please Mr. Tommy and Mr. B-b-buck? P-pleas-e I- got--" His voice has gone squeaky and he can barely get his words out. When he gets frustrated, as he sometimes does with his stutter, he just starts screaming.

Buck is rattled, and Tommy doesn't look much better, and maybe Maddie will tell him that he shouldn't have caved to a panic-driven tantrum so easily; but it's two in the morning and the dog is clearly not doing well by the whine she lets out in response to the scream, and Tommy looks frozen, so Buck just jumps in with a soft hand on Graham's back and agreement.

"Okay, buddy, okay. We'll all go. I need you to get some socks and your shoes and your jacket on, okay? We'll take care of Honey."

Tommy briefly looks like he wants to argue, but Buck shoots him what is probably a murderous look, so he just shuts his mouth tight and nods.

"Let me get mine on and I'll come back for Honey."

Buck rushes through helping Graham and then grabbing for Honey's vet folder in their office, finally pulling his own shoes and jacket on over his pajamas as Tommy comes down the stairs with Honey in his arms and Graham following close behind them. Graham's got a baseball cap shoved down over his hair and a worried look on his face, holding on to one of Honey's back paws lightly.

Buck opens the door and grabs the SUV keys off the hook next to it, and ushers their whole family out. He shuts the door tight behind himself and unlocks the truck, rushing around Tommy and Graham to open up the back door. He quickly rushes around to the other side then with Graham, lifting him and placing him into his car seat. Tommy gets Honey set down into her doggy seat box, and she whines again.

Buck gets into the passenger seat, reaching over to insert the keys and start the car, Tommy sliding in as Buck settles back into his seat. Its as smooth as they ever are with getting out the door, and if it wasn't for the alarming circumstances, Buck would be giddy with how domestic it feels.

The drive is a blur but luckily a quick one, them having researched and found an emergency vet that was relatively close to their house when they first adopted Honey.

It's the opposite of their loading up--Buck grabbing the keys out of the ignition after Tommy turns the car off, then getting Graham out and shutting all four doors of the SUV while Tommy pushes on with Honey in his arms through the automatic doors of the clinic.

They're met with a relatively empty waiting room and staff person that sees Graham and mercifully understands how quickly they'd like to be seen--it's only a few moments before they're being ushered back to a patient room and Tommy is gently laying Honey on a table.

The staff lets them know that they'll be seen soon, and Buck sees Graham struggling to see Honey on top of the table. He's making increasingly worried noises, so Buck crouches down again to his level.

"Hey bud," he says gently, and Graham looks over at him, "can I pick you up? You'll be able to see Honey."

Graham looks like he's contemplating it seriously for a moment, and Buck remembers that Hen and Karen told them that they should be careful to leave decisions for contact up to Graham. Finally, Graham nods, and Buck clearly telegraphs his moves as his arms go around Graham and he heaves the little boy up.

For all the little Graham has been carried in his young life, he easily settles onto Buck's hip with clear trust. Buck breathes a sigh of relief and bends at the waist slightly so Graham can reach one of Honey's paws, patting it gently.

"It's okay, Honey," Graham says, a whisper in the sterile room.

Tommy sits into one of the chairs in the room, and places a hand on Buck's unoccupied hip. Just as Buck's heart feels like it's finally slowing down, the door opens and a veterinarian walks in, another staff member trailing behind her with a clipboard in her hands.

"Hi there, folks," she says softly, and she's all business. "We didn't get your info, so if you don't mind Jeremy is going to get all of that while I look at your pup."

Tommy nods, and stands once again to start giving their information. The vet does pretty much what Tommy did, looking at Honey's face and ears, hands palpating Honey's throat and stomach. When Honey lets out a long a high whine as the hands pass over her stomach, the vet nods and looks up at Jeremy.

Jeremy nods back, it seems like they've both got information they needed.

"Is this a sudden change for--" the Vet begins, looking over at the paperwork before nodding again, "--Honey?"

"Yes," Buck says, and Graham is nodding against Buck's shoulder as well, "she was fine through dinner and bedtime, and then Graham here came and let us know that she wasn't feeling well about thirty minutes ago."

"Okay," the Vet says, and gives them a gentle smile, "Good job, Graham. You were very smart to let your daddies know about this. We're going to take Honey back now for some X-Rays." Buck grimaces, but doesn't correct her.

Graham just nods, and the vet pulls open the door before Jeremy then asks them to head to the waiting room. The three of them troop out, and then Buck settles Graham on a chair in between Buck and Tommy. They settle in, and Graham curls up, small and sad, in the chair. Buck and Tommy share a look over his head, and Tommy looks just as heartbroken as Buck feels.

"Hey guys," Buck starts, rallying himself despite just how tired he feels. Tommy's off tomorrow, but Buck might have to talk to Chim about coming in late for his shift, "Honey's going to be alright. We got her to where the helpers are, and they're going to do x-rays so we know what's going on."

"What are x-rays?" Graham asks quietly, and Tommy launches into a calm and soothing explanation of what x-rays are.

Graham uncurls as he listens, and by time the explanation is done, he seems to be doing better--if a little sleepy by the way his head keeps drooping and launching upward.

"It's okay if you want to sleep a little, buddy," tommy tells him, and he does a great job of anticipating Graham's next thought: "we'll wake you up when they come to tell us anything."

Graham finally gives in a few minutes later, sliding sideways until his head comes to rest against Tommy's arm. Buck gives him the moment, looking away at a poster of a happily grinning family and their dog that advertises flea medicine. Buck knows that parenthood has come harder to Tommy, and so the little moments tend to strike him harder.

"Hey," Tommy whisper-shouts, grabbing Buck's attention. Buck looks over. "You can sleep too, sweetheart. You've got a shift tomorrow."

"Yeah," Buck says, and he's always been learning to let Tommy hold his weight sometimes, so he decides that it's 3 AM and they're a team, and he's going to at least tip his head back and rest his eyes.

Buck doesn't know how long they exist in their quiet little bubble, but he wakes suddenly to the Jeremy calling out to them. Next to him, Tommy gently jostles Graham awake.

"Okay, Kinard family," He says, and Buck's tired brain feels warm as the sentence washes over him, "the x-rays are done, so let's talk next steps. Dr. Qu found some obstructions in Honey's stomach."

He holds up a tablet with x-rays on them, and Buck can't make much out of it as his eyes blink away his exhaustion, but he nods anyway.

"Obstructions?" Buck asks, "What kind of obstructions?"

"Most likely some sort of cloth. Clothing perhaps. It looks like she ate a few things she shouldn't have. So, we can do surgery and remove them, and then that should take care of it."

Tommy is nodding, and Buck knows he's thinking of ways to explain this to Graham after they're alone again.

"Will you want to keep her overnight then?" Tommy asks, and Buck is so thankful that one of them has owned animals in their life, because Buck definitely does not know the right questions to ask like his husband does.

"Yes," Jeremy says, looking sorry for it, "it will be best to do that--especially because we may need some time to try and identify what it is that she ate, so we can help you avoid this in the future."

"Okay, that's fine. What do you need from us?" Tommy replies, and Jeremy launches into a quick explanation.

"If one of you will come with me, we can get the surgery authorization done and talk payment."

Buck nods and gets up, turning to look back at Tommy and Graham and smile.

"I'll take care of this, you guys talk some more while I'm there."

Tommy nods, so Buck turns back to follow Jeremy to the reception area and do what needs to be done.

It's relatively quick, a few forms and signatures, looking at what the bill will be and acknowledging that they'll receive in the mail next week.

He hands everything over to the receptionist, and she gives him a gentle smile. She starts to say something, but her eyes catch behind Buck and her eyebrows pinch together in sympathy.

"Uh oh, I think some one might be having a hard time. He's not the first." She says, and Buck whips around to look back at his family.

Tommy is looking at him with a look that can only be described as pure panic, and Graham is bright red and tears are flowing down his face. He's alternating between gasping breathes in and hiccupping cries, and Tommy is trying desperately to soothe him, but clearly it isn't working.

"Oh boy," Buck says, and quickly turns back to the receptionist, "Okay. Um. Am I--are we good? We can head out?"

"Yepp," she tells him, and sends him another sympathetic look, "Come back around 3 PM tomorrow and you can pick her up. We'll call you if there are any complications or any changes."

"Thank you," Buck rushes out before he flips around and speed walks back towards Tommy and Graham.

"Hey, hey Bud, what happened?" Buck asks, and Tommy is shrugging wildly at him, "Graham, it's okay. Honey is gonna be okay."

"I-I-I-I-" Graham is trying to say, but the tears and snot and hiccups are derailing him completely. He's bordering on hyperventilating, so Buck crouches down and rests a hand on Graham's back.

"Breathe, bud. In and out." Buck loudly and exaggeratedly breathes with the hope that Graham will copy him, continuing for what has to be three or four minutes before the pattern finally brakes and Graham has tired himself out enough to try the slow breathing.

"That's it, buddy," Tommy says gently, running hand over Graham's head, "it's okay. Everything is okay."

"It's my fa-fa-fault!" Graham forces out, like it hurts him to say, and Tommy and Buck look at each other in bewilderment.

"What?" Buck asks, and shakes his head before trying again, "Graham, buddy, what are you talking about? Sometimes dogs eat things they shouldn't. It's not your--"

"Noooooo!" Graham cries, more tears falling, "M-M-Mr. Tommy said I should p-pick up my socks and I didn't! I wa-was p-playing and then, and then we had d-d-d-in-inner and when I ca-came ba-ack my so-cks were GONE!"

His last word is injected with misery, and he breaks down even further when he finally gets it out.

"Oh buddy," Tommy says, and he leans further down so Tommy can see his face. Graham avoids looking at him, and Tommy grimaces, but keeps trying. "Graham, hey. Look at me."

Graham looks miserable when he finally pulls his head out of his hands, and Buck's heart pangs painfully. He wants to reach out and comfort Graham, but Tommy looks determined.

"Graham, it will be okay. You made a mistake," here, Graham whimpers, but Tommy pushes on, "sometimes we make mistakes, and unfortunately other people--or dogs--have problems because of it. But, you told us about Honey, and we got her to the doctor. It's going to be okay. Okay?"

Graham still looks like his world is ending, he definitely hasn't stopped crying, but he still gets an upset little "Okay." out.

"Can I hug you buddy?" Tommy asks, and Buck feels warm all over again when Graham nods. 'Okay, buddy."

Graham scrambles up in the chair and Tommy tugs him over both arm rests, settling the little boy easily into a hug.

"I know it's tough, buddy. But it's gonna be alright. And we're going to pick up our socks from now on, huh?" Tommy says, barely audible to Buck.

"Uh-huh," Graham hiccups out.

"It's okay, Graham. It's okay. We'll talk about it more later. For now, we have to go home so the doctors can help Honey. But you can come with me to pick her up tomorrow. How does that sound?"

"Um, good." Graham says, and Buck melts a little at the way Tommy's eyes close in relief.

"Okay Kinards," Buck says, standing up and feeling his knee twinge but pushing on, "let's head home. We all need some rest."

They head out slowly, Buck throwing a nod and smile to the receptionist.

“A week?!” 

“I know, right?” Buck says, leaning against the door and yawning. Maddie had been released from the hospital a day and a half ago, she and the baby okay, and Buck had gone right into a full shift after that. He was exhausted. 

“But you're--you're okay, Evan? Hen told me that you were kidnapped.” Tommy asks, breathing slowing down and eyes roving over Buck's body, catching on his tight sleep shirt. 

“Yeah, she definitely lied to you,” Buck tells him through another yawn, eyes closing. “I’m like, really tired though. Do you want to come in?” 

Tommy looks unsure, hands wringing in front of his stomach nervously. “Do you want me to come in?” 

“Well,” Buck says, rubbing a hand across his face, “I'm pretty mad at you, but also my life is kind of insane, and you're like...really good at cuddling. So maybe you could come in and cuddle me for s-say seven and a half hours? Then in the morning you can make me avocado toast because you're also really good at that, and then we can fight it out then?” 

Tommy looks a little awestruck, but his body sways forward into the door. 

“Yeah,” Tommy breathes out, “yeah I can do that.” 

Buck hums, grabs Tommy's hand to pull him into the house, and shuts and locks it behind him. 

“Where's Eddie?” Tommy asks as Buck waits for him to kick off his shoes, pulling him again towards the bedroom. 

“Texas.” Buck says, laying back down on the bed. 

“Texas? What's he--” 

“Tomorrow, Tommy.” 

“Right, sorry Evan.” 

“That's okay, I get it...what are you waiting for?” Evan is looking up at Tommy, who's paused on the other side of the bed, staring down at Buck in wonder. 

“I wasn't...I didn't think I'd get this far honestly.” 

“Yeah,” Buck says, “I’m not convinced this isn't a dream.” 

“Not a dream.” 

“Then take your pants off and get in the bed, Tommy.” 

“Yes, sir,” Tommy says, with a tone. 

“Don’t get sassy you're still in trouble!” 

“Sorry, Evan,” Tommy says, finally getting into the bed. Evan rolls over, puts his back to Tommy and throws his hips back just to hear Tommy huff, “right, cuddling then avocado toast.” 

Buck thinks he says something back, but Tommy throws an arm around his waist and wiggles the other underneath Buck's head, and suddenly the weight of the week (all the weeks since their break up) rush up to meet him and he can't stay awake any longer. 

In the morning, he'll be amazed at how it's the smoothest make up he's ever heard of. 

And when they show up to Maddie's baby shower a week later, not having told anyone they were back together, they walk into a smug look from Hen and confusion from everyone else. 

“Don't look smug, Hen; you almost killed a man with a heart attack. And by a man I mean me. I'm forty, how could you do that?!” 

Hen smirks and leans back in her chair. Karen has the decency to look guilty next to her. 

“Wait, what?” Maddie says, “what did I miss?” 

“Maddie, I am so sorry to hear about what happened,” Tommy says, handing her the gift Buck had let him add his name to, “Hen however told me the wrong Buckley got kidnapped, and uh, I panicked.” 

Chim's head whips between Tommy and Hen, eyebrows drawing together as he opens his mouth to shout, “What? Hen! You stole my move!” 

He's surprised that Evan hasn't double-texted him in the time it's taken Tommy to pluck up the courage to look at the message, and Tommy has to admit that he's a little impressed by the courage Evan's showcasing here. He takes a second to think about an answer to Evan's original question before typing it out, Colonel John Dewalt, and sends it. Evan’s reply is instantaneous.

Military pal?

Tommy breathes out harshly, walking to the sink to grab a glass of water.

He taught me to fly. Haven’t seen or heard from him since I left service.

Cool

Tommy chugs the water and waits, but Evan doesn’t respond. Hours pass and when Tommy is sitting down to a sad dinner for one of chicken and broccoli, he almost considers asking Evan what he really wanted. He doesn’t, and Evan doesn’t send anything more.

It’s two days later that Tommy hears from Evan again, another question out of the blue with no explanation and no lead up.

Would you like to be famous? In what way?

This question is possibly weirder than the first, Tommy thinks, but he finds himself responding anyway. He’s off again today and his yard is done, he finished re-tiling the kitchen backsplash, and he’s kind of bored out of his mind sitting on his couch and watching reruns of Naked and Afraid.

God, no. I don’t even have social media.

Evan types for longer than expected on this one, but his response makes Tommy snort.

Yeah, I think I actually could have guessed that one.

Tommy waits for more, for another question, for an answer. When none comes, he feels the frustration of their last conversation and this weird communication slam into him--he impulsively types out a message and hits send before he can second guess himself.

What are you doing, Evan?

Again, Evan doesn’t respond. Tommy doesn’t even see the little dots on his screen that Evan is thinking about replying.

Tommy doesn’t know what to do with that, so he gets up and goes to the garage to find something to do with his hands. He leaves his phone on the coffee table.

The next question is the first one that Tommy doesn’t get the chance to answer for several hours because it arrives in the middle of back-to-back medevacs and paperwork that Tommy doesn’t get a minute of peace during. When he finally is sitting down to eat dinner before he drives home, Tommy is scrolling through his phone and sees that he has one new text. He must have swiped away the notification at some point earlier and forgotten about it.

Before making a telephone call, do you rehearse what you’re going to say? Why?

The question gives him pause, and he can’t help but send one back.

Do people actually do that?

Yes, it’s pretty popular online.

Armed with that baffling answer, Tommy looks over to where one of the younger mechanics is waiting for a truly heinous looking Hot Pocket to finish heating up in the microwave.

“Felix,” He calls, voice rough from being so tired, “Question. Do you rehearse what you’re going to say on the phone before you make a call?”

“To like, doctors and shit?” Felix says, glancing at him before hearing the ding of the microwave and fishing his Hot Pocket out; taking too big of a bite without even attempting to let it cool. Tommy grimaces. “Yeah man, I hate phone calls. They’re the worst.”

“Interesting.” Tommy says, contemplating this as Felix continues to methodically inhale the Hot Pocket. “Why?”

“Dunno. They’re just weird.” Is all Tommy gets before Felix gets called by the head mechanic and races off across the hanger. ‘See ya!”

“Bye.” Tommy calls after him, and looks down at his cellphone. Once again, there’s nothing more coming through from Evan.

The next text technically comes in the next day, but it’s a near thing since Tommy’s phone buzzes at 12:08 AM with it. Normally he wouldn’t be awake, but the shift had really taken it out of him and he stupidly fell asleep on the couch at 7:30 PM. Now he’s watching Naked and Afraid again, contemplating if he wants to work out or just go straight to the shower and try to go back to sleep.

What would constitute a perfect day for you?

This one, admittedly, throws Tommy a bit. Is Evan fishing? Does he want Tommy to say a day with you? What is Tommy supposed to say to that?

Like, a day off or?

Is that your answer?

No, that’s me begging for literally any clarification or context about why you keep asking me these questions.

Tommy sighs, watching someone he didn’t catch the name of catch a fish and celebrate it, blurred out body parts flashing across the screen. Evan doesn’t respond, and Tommy stops himself from send another, sure to be bitchier, second text. He gives up and grabs the remote, turning the TV off and stretching as he stands. There’s no way a shower is going to put him to sleep if Evan Buckley is on his mind; and while jerking off in the shower usually works he doesn’t want to go sadly jerk off about his ex, so he resigns himself to a half-hour workout at midnight on his Peloton.

He moves quickly to his bedroom, plugging his phone into the charger by his nightstand and slipping into the sneakers he keeps by the machine in the corner of the room. He’ll just do a solo-ride, no videos, and he won’t think about Evan one bit for the next thirty minutes.

He fails wildly, of course, and by the time he’s done on the bike he’s just mad, so instead of a sad jerk off in the shower, it’s a frustrated one. Eventually though he’s scrubbed himself clean and stared at the tile long enough that he can confidently get into bed and be ready to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillows around 2:15 AM. It’s when his mind is going foggy does he realize with sharp clarity that he never answered the question.

He groans into the quiet and stillness of his bedroom before reaching a hand over to grab at his phone and type out a response.

A morning flight with no emergency attached to it. A Faceplant Burrito from Hellbender’s. Live music at a bar near my house, two drafts while I’m there. Finding out the Lakers won. Sex, TV, then in bed by 11:30.

Sleep is pulling at him harder than before, so he sends off the text without thinking too much about it and falls asleep when he sets his phone back down.

In the morning, and for a day-and-a-half after that, there are no further messages.

When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?

The latest text comes in while he’s working out at Harbor, and he reads up until When did you last sing... while finishing his set of pushups. He rolls his eyes and lets his phone go dark, counting out his set before he drops to his elbows on the mat and drags the phone towards himself.

You know I don’t sing is what he decides to send back, not letting himself get sucked into the insanity of this again. Evan will give up eventually, he decides, nodding to himself and his maturity in this.

Well now that’s not true. This only works if you tell the truth, Tommy.

Actually, fuck maturity.

What works? What do you mean not true? I think I would know if I was lying about this

I heard you singing while you were making me breakfast, when I dislocated my shoulder. Is that the answer to both then?

Air hisses out of Tommy’s teeth and his face heats up.

You were clearly on painkillers and hallucinating

I don’t think you hallucinate while on ibuprofen

Damn Evan, never letting him get away with it. He doubles down anyway.

Maybe it was Billy Boils haunting you

A man who died over a century ago was haunting me by singing ‘The Dance’ by Garth Brooks?

Tommy let his head fall to the mat, and just breathed in the unfortunate scent of sweat and gym equipment as self-punishment for his unfortunate moment of thinking about Dale Earnhardt that day and getting himself caught singing along to the youtube video of the memorial he had found while waiting for the mashed avocado to set. And for falling for, and failing to run from, a man with a steel trap for a memory and a bratty streak a mile wide.

I am taking that as your answer then.

Tommy’s convinced that the second question, which comes bright and early the next day at 6 AM while Tommy is struggling to wake himself up out of the bunk room at harbor, was sent as some sort of psychological torture device.

If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

And, like, what the fuck Evan? It’s 6:30 AM, is what Tommy thinks. And what Tommy sends back.

It’s okay, take your time. I’m sure as soon as your coffee with seven sugars kicks in you’ll be fine.

Tommy spits out said coffee when he reads that, and sends back six to be petty.

Oh, did you do the caramel creamer then?

Tommy glares at the text, and then glares at said creamer where it’s still sitting on the counter.

When the coffee does indeed kick in and he’s got a few minutes waiting for the shower to warm up before he hops in, Tommy decides he’ll try a new tactic and just be annoying to try and get Evan to finally break.

What happens when I turn 91? I lose the mind and body?

How about a 100 year old with the mind of a 50 year old?

If I choose body do I have to hide from the government because I don’t age?

Tommy lays his phone down and gets in the shower, content to let Evan stew over his texts.

He is, of course, annoyed himself when after the shower there’s no response. It’s worse when an hour of helicopter maintenance passes with no response. It’s the worst when a total of half a shift has gone by and Evan never rose to the bait. Tommy cracks when he’s packing up his stuff to head home for four straight days off and three on call.

Fine. Body of a 30 year old. They won’t let me fly with a 90 year old body.

That finally gets him a response, and he scoffs, but a part of him knows that Evan has also been on shift and is relieved.

Sorry, massive pile up, had to get a lot of bodies out of cars. I’m not surprised by that answer.

Tommy pauses and swallows down whatever response he was going to immediately come up with. He hesitates a moment, but sends back a quick You alright? and sighs when all he gets is a I’m good in response.

The next questions all arrive quickly together, as if it’s the first time in a while that Evan has had time to sit down and send them. There isn’t much discussion between the answers, but a few bring out more than just another question from Evan. Over two days he reads them and reels from them and answers them and still has no idea to what end this is all hurtling towards.

Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?

Probably in some convoluted scheme made up by my old coworkers he tries for levity.

Name three things you and I appear to have in common. this is the first one that really brings Evan into it, so Tommy tries to be extra careful on that one and not give himself away too much.

We both are firefighters, we both came out later in life, we both love a Farmer’s Market.

For what in your life do you feel most grateful? this one, on the heels of no response on the last one, gets his hackles up.

The house that I own is his response. It garners no reply.

He’s out at a bar with a few guys who go to his Muay Thai gym when the next few come in.

If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

That one socks him in the chest. Everything slips from his mind to his fingers and is sent off into the world before he can stop it. The next two don’t let him up from his place pinned under a microscope, studied and exposed.

In four sentences tell me your life story in as much detail as possible.

I was born in Washington state, outside of Olympia, but grew up closer to Seattle in a suburb. I’ve been gay a long time but my father would have beaten the shit out of me if he knew. I joined the military and it really fucking sucked under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I landed in LA at a shitty fire house that isn’t shitty anymore and I led a woman on up until an engagement and then transferred houses and things got better but things got quieter too.

He made a mistake about an hour ago of having a third beer, and it’s loosening him just enough to be reckless with his responses. He knows he shouldn’t, this is his ex, they aren’t even dating anymore; what is Tommy doing handing the codes for his destruction over? What is Evan doing to him?

Evan must decide to have mercy on him, because despite typing for a long time after that, what comes through is just another question.

If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Tommy laughs, feeling like he’s going to cry, and puts a hand up to the bartender to settle his tab.

The ability to be a better person

After that, Tommy doesn’t hear from Evan for four days. He thinks he’s finally done it--finally convinced Evan that he just isn’t worth it.

Tommy’s been trying to forget about his embarrassing vulnerability when he overhears something that stops him in his tracks. He’s working on some routine checks in his helicopter and there’s two of the mechanics working on the engine. One of them, Alice, is giving advice to James, who always seems to be in the middle of a fight with his wife.

“I’m telling you, try it man. It worked for me and Felicia,” Alice is saying while James is shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” he says, reaching into the engine and tightening something or other, “If they’re questions that lead to love wouldn’t I already be past them?”

“Nah, they’re more than that,” Alice says, talking around a wrench that she’d stuck in her mouth while she reaches for something else in their tool kit, “it’s about learning new things, things you never thought to ask. Like, one of the questions is this weird one about whether or not you would choose to have the body or mind of a thirty year old for sixty years. It’s about asking them things that lead to bigger conversations, so you learn about them and learn to love them deep down.”

“I don’t know, Al, I think deep down she might hate me more.”

Tommy feels like some thick and viscous is pouring over him from the top down, and he stumbles out of the helicopter, almost braining himself on the door.

“Whoa, Kinard, you good?” James asks, reaching out a hand to steady him. James and Alice are both looking at him with concern, and he shakes his head and tries to give them a smile but knows it’s probably pretty grim and not very reassuring.

“Yeah, sorry, totally fine. What, uh, what are you guys talking about?” He asks, aiming for nonchalant and landing somewhere between crazed and desperate.

“Uh,” Alice starts, pulling the wrench from her mouth and wiping her wrist across her lips. “I was telling James about this New York Times article I read a few years back called 36 Questions that Lead to Love . They’re these questions that you ask someone you’re with, or I guess want to be with, in order to get to know them better. Me and my girlfriend did them and there were some good conversations, ya know?”

Tommy is nodding, already pulling his phone out of his flight suit and googling.

“Wow, that is so interesting, Alice. I am definitely going to check those out. Thank you.”

Before she can respond, he’s booking it for the break room and clicking on the link that Google pulls up.

After Tommy reads the entire article, he decides that he has to wait at least until his next day off to confront Evan about trying to sneak-lead him to love with a New York Times article from 2015.

Luckily, Evan never stopped sharing his calendar, so Tommy knows that his second day off lines up with one where Evan has a shift starting at 4 PM.

Tommy knows that on 4 PM shift days, Evan works out in the mornings, eats breakfast, showers, and then spends the rest of the afternoon cleaning until he has to leave at 3 PM to make it to the station on time and give himself a buffer to change and settle in before the shift change. Tommy times it just right and calls him at 2:35 PM.

“Uh, hello? Tommy?” Evan answers with uncertainty. His voice is low and slow and Tommy has gone too long without sex because hearing three words from his ex should not make him slightly horny. He shakes himself and focuses, speaking clearly without so much as a hello.

“If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If Buck is surprised that Tommy’s found him out, he doesn’t show it. He answers automatically and without hesitation.

“What’s my purpose when the whole reason I was born didn’t work? Like, what do you do when your supposed purpose gets shot to hell before you turn two?”

“In true Evan Buckley fashion, he has rendered Tommy a little speechless. But in true Tommy Kinard fashion he dredges something up to say. It’s not very elegant, but it works.

“Jesus Christ, kid.”

“Kid, huh? Haven’t heard that one in a while, Daddy.”

“Okay, you never called me Daddy so don’t you dare start now.”

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“There’s quiet for a moment, Evan is clearly doing the dishes in the background. Staying on theme with this whole thing, Tommy caves first.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re asking me the 36 questions that lead to love?”

“I would, but you chose to call me twenty minutes before I needed to leave for my shift. I don’t think we’ve got enough time.”

“Evan--”

“Oops, now we’re down to five minutes and I’ve got to grab my bag. Why don’t you ask me later?”

“Before he has a chance to argue, Evan hangs up. Tommy is left just as confused and frustrated as he was before, but unfortunately much more horny.

A few hours later, the next question in “Set II” of the 36 questions arrives on his phone. Tommy debates just flat out calling Evan to argue with him some more, but Tommy knew before and is really starting to accept that if Evan Buckley really wants something, he’s going to chase it doggedly until he’s given an absolute no. And Tommy knows himself enough that he can’t lie and say that he wants to give out that absolute no.

Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?

Now at least the element of surprise is gone--Tommy has read through all of the questions at least four times and has spent time thinking about how he would answer them. This one was easy.

Fly coast to coast in a helicopter. I haven’t done it because it’s stupid expensive and the paperwork is insane.

While he’s resigned to answering the questions, he can’t ignore the fact that Evan’s answer had brought him right back to the moment when they first decided to give it a second shot and they had admitted that they barely knew anything about each other. He’s just sitting around on his couch with Ice Road Truckers on, so he pulls up the article again and sends the next question.

What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Becoming a firefighter, no competition. I was pretty aimless before that, didn’t really have any accomplishments.

Not graduating high school or college?

High school graduation in Hershey, Pennsylvania was boring. Penn State Harrisburg was only subjected to me for less than a year.

Tommy had had no idea whether or not Evan had went to college, and definitely didn’t realize it was Penn State.

Nittany Lions, huh? What even is that

Not sure, they didn’t exactly discuss the mascot origins at parties

Tommy thinks about digging further, but he’s gotten the impression that they aren’t really doing that, so he holds off on his curiosity and anticipates the next question so much that he’s a little annoyed it takes three hours to receive it. They must have had a call.

What do you value most in a friendship?

The ability to take a joke

No wonder you and Eddie got along so well, you both love bullying me.

I don’t know if bullying is the word.

Tommy’s a bit surprised Evan is bringing up Eddie in a friendship lens after Tommy accused him of being in love with the guy.

No, I think bullying is accurate. I do know my best friend pretty well. Not biblically, but. Pretty well.

There it is.

Okay, yeah. I deserved that.

What do you mean? I just want to make it clear, since I have to with everyone apparently, that I’ve never had nor wanted to bone my best friend.

No, no, keep it coming. Punish me baby.

So sue him, he gets testy when he’s being insulted and Ice Road Truckers is really boring.

Ask the next question, asshole.

Tommy, probably for once in his life, lets it go. He sends question number 17 next.

What is your most treasured memory?

Evan types for a while, and then stops typing long enough that it’s clear that he’s gotten caught up in something outside of his phone. Tommy is halfway done with the crossword in the NYT games app when he finally gets a response that reads like the introduction to a novel.

When I worked on a ranch, there was this horse that was being rehabilitated after it was rescued from an abusive situation. It wouldn’t let anyone near it, humans or other horses. It was making its recovery really difficult because it kept injuring itself by pulling away from the trainers and veterinarians, and half the time it was too scared to eat. One day I was writing my usual postcard to Maddie on this big rock near its private fenced in area, and I wasn’t paying any attention--I was mid word when the horse had snuck up on me and sniffed me so hard it knocked the cowboy hat off my head. After that, the horse was stuck to me from sun up to sun down; and it would let the doctors and the trainers near it if I was there. It ate if I sat next to it, it let me brush it and eventually let me ride it. The owner of the ranch told me she had never seen anything like it, and that if I ever wanted to come back I’d have a place there.

Tommy feels a little floored, reading the message. It wasn’t hard to imagine Evan working on a ranch with a cowboy hat on his head, out on a prairie somewhere with a scared horse following him around and learning to ask for care. Tommy doesn’t quite know what to say, and he doesn’t like the direction that particular train of thought is taking him in. He decides to dodge emotion in the best way he knows how.

Ranch hand, huh? Still got the chaps?

Unsurprisingly, Evan doesn’t rise to the bait. He doesn’t answer for a while, but when he does it's just the next question. Tommy figured this one was coming, and he knows what he could say--the time he dealt with a bombing in the military, any number of bad calls he’s had, when he went down on ropes for a recuse and cracked his arm clean in half when he slammed into a cliffside--but it’s almost 10 o’clock and Evan and the nighttime are apparently a very dangerous combination for Tommy.

What is your most terrible memory?

He types out “When I was in the military, we had a bombing...” and “My first loss in the helicopter, it was a twelve year-old...” three times before he sighs at himself and goes for broke. Evan shared that damn story about a scared horse and Hell, maybe Tommy wants to see this through too.

When I was in bootcamp, I got a summons to the main office to take a phone call. It was the Sheriff's office back home. They were calling to tell me that my family was in a car accident. I needed to come home right away because my step-mom and half sister were in pretty bad shape. They died when I was on a plane somewhere over Oregon, twenty minutes apart and just 15 minutes before I landed. When I landed, a deputy picked me up and took me straight to the hospital. It wasn’t until I was standing in front of my father, who was cuffed to his hospital bed, that I learned that he was driving drunk and ran them into a telephone pole.

After it’s sent, Tommy’s hit with a great mass of regret and wishes he could swallow it back up into his chest and never talk about it again. It’s out there though, it’s in Evan’s tender and clumsy hands, and Tommy thinks he knows how that horse felt.

The text box bubbles, and bubbles, and bubbles. Then it stops, and it stays still long after Tommy has dragged himself to the bedroom and fallen asleep.

When he wakes up, the response he’s gotten from Evan is expected and unexpected all at once. Tommy holds off on reading it until he’s halfway through an omelet and ready to stomach this on-going emotional torture of a conversation. Evan’s starting to fall back into his old texting patterns, and a smattering of messages are waiting for him to read like an op-ed piece.

Set II is kind of more emotional, huh.

I’m up next to answer “If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?” so I’ll just get into that, maybe make up for making you talk about that.

Which, thank you, Tommy. Genuinely. For sharing that with me, or trusting me with that.

I’m sure that wasn’t easy to share. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry you went through that. I know sorry doesn’t cut it, but I am.

Okay, right. My answer.

I thought about dying a lot after I actually, you know, died. For three minutes and seventeen seconds. So, anyway, this question and situation kind of scares the shit out of me. Like it’s really dangerous for me. I never want to know if I’m going to die, because I’ll blow my life up. I’ll spend all my savings and I’ll hug the 118 goodbye and I’ll be gone. Obviously that isn’t good, right, because my family should get to see me before I’m gone forever, but if I know I have an expiration date I can’t continue to just live my life like normal and wait for it to happen. I’d want to get to all the places I never got to see--Mexico City and a good chunk of Route 66 and Grand Teton National park. I’ve got to go see Halliehurst--that’s the horse I mentioned, and Mary; she owns the ranch. I would ask Conner and Cameron if I could spend an afternoon with their son. He’s kind of also my son. Genetically, not legally. I’d beg my parents to tell me where Daniel’s grave is so I could apologize. I’d stop by Texas to see Eddie and Chris and I wouldn’t tell them why I was there. I’d sell everything I have and put it into trusts for Chris and Jee and her brother. I’d forgive my parents, too. I’d tell you I always loved you. I wouldn’t stop moving until the day I couldn’t.

Evan’s words feel like an avalanche, and the sudden sore throat Tommy feels makes him realize that he had started reading Evan’s text out loud in a horse whisper. He’s stuck reading the second to last sentence again and again. I’d tell you that I always loved you, I’d tell you that I always loved you, I’d tell you that I always loved you. Leave it to Evan to take Tommy ripping his chest open and letting him observe his insides and respond in kind with much more dangerous information. He thinks about texting back, but even Tommy “run like your life depends on it” Kinard knows that they’re a little beyond texting.

He swipes into his calendar app and pulls up Evan’s, checking his schedule. He should be getting off shift right about now; so Tommy makes a call. He’s disappointed yet relieved when it goes to voicemail, but he’s determined. He leaves a voicemail telling Evan to come to his place--he’ll have an omelet and coffee waiting for him.

Evan never comes over, but it’s for the best because it’s only twelve minutes later that Tommy gets a call in anyway.

Later, when Evan sees him, neither one says anything about the questions--it’s all work. The 118 is holding the line between the city of Los Angeles and a group of men hell bent on killing at least half of it. They had caught them in the middle of a small pile up outside of the stadium, one of them with a detonator in his hand and his car rigged to explode canisters of deadly gas and release it into the air. The man was too volatile to talk down and S.W.A.T. was too nervous to get his hand off the trigger with a dozen others ready to explode it and complete their mission however they could.

It was decided that they would need to fly the car out of the city, and Tommy’s experience as a military pilot had him at the top of the list to help complete the mission. The helicopters they had wouldn’t be enough to lift it on their own, it would take two flying in a precarious formation until they could set it down outside of the city and the detonator’s range in the desert. Evan wasn’t on shift with the 118 when they headed out to the crash, having been alternating shifts with Chimney to help Maddie in her recovery and pregnancy; but he was with Athena when she caught wind of the plan caught Tommy on the rooftop at sunset he had been told to take off from to avoid two choppers coming from the same direction and arousing suspicion. When they stood face to face, Tommy didn’t know what to say that could convey how he was feeling that morning, how much he wanted to finish their conversation.

“You deserve to hear my response verbally, Evan. I can’t do that right now--not with all of this. But meet me back here and I will then. I’ll know what to say, I promise.”

Evan looked like he wanted to argue, but from the look on Athena’s face behind them Tommy could guess that she had already told Evan that he couldn’t say anything to Tommy to talk him out of this mission.

“What does friendship mean to you?” Is what Evan says, and for an insane moment Tommy thinks he’s speaking in code. “That’s the next question for you. S-so you better have answer for me, when you get back, Tommy. I’m holding you to it.”

Tommy has to laugh at his surprise of a man, always throwing him for a loop.

“Okay, Evan. I will.”

Tommy does think about it, on the way to the road in front of the stadium where the cars around the bomb car have been cleared away and a ground team is waiting to rush in to secure the car to both helicopters. If radio chatter is to be believed, the 118 minus Evan is distracting the group inside the stadium and acting as de facto negotiators for the sake of the city of Los Angeles.

He arrives in tandem with the S.W.A.T. helicopter and he hovers and drops the line, the team below him securing the car for lift off. It seems like everything is going well and he gets the all clear easy enough, confirmation from the other pilot to begin lifting coming through. He hears a loud pop and feels a searing pain in his stomach and up through his back, and feels his helicopter jolt suddenly to the side.

“Kinard! What’s going on up there?” The voice of a S.W.A.T. agent crackles through the radio, and Tommy takes a second to breathe before adrenaline floods his veins and he reigns the chopper in, feeling the car sway dangerously between the two birds.

“I think you’ve got gunmen down there, officer. Get your people out of the road.” Tommy replies through gritted teeth, then calls out to the other pilot to let him know that Tommy is good to go. They begin flying toward their destination.

“Are you hit, Kinard? Can you fly?” The same officer’s voice rings out, and Tommy doesn’t have time for this.

“Mission is a go, Officer.” Tommy calls back, trying to skirt around the bullet hole that he definitely knows he’s bleeding out of. He knows Evan is right next to Athena, and as much as he knows he’ll have hell to pay about getting shot in the first place, if Evan hears him say that he’s been hit, he’ll kick up enough of a fuss to get himself arrested.

“Godspeed, Kinard, Smitherson.” The Officer signs off, and Tommy vaguely registers that Smitherson is the other pilot. Good to know who he’s carrying a deadly chemical weapon into the desert with.

Pushing at top speeds, the get to Joshua Tree in a little less than an hour. It’s pretty impressive that the military has managed to secure some sort of tent that they’ve got ready to surround and seal the car once it’s touched down safely. Tommy’s so relieved to see it that he barely registers when Smitherson comes over the radio and says “Let’s get ready to set ‘er down, Kinard.”

“Copy that, Smitherson.” Is what he manages to say, just glad to finally pull his hands back from pushing his bird as hard as it would go while also managing to give it as smooth a touch as he could manage. He’s been sweating for the entire fight and he knows that adrenaline is the only thing keeping him going. He hopes like hell that they cut the car loose quickly and he can get the bird down as soon as possible. He knows that he doesn’t have much time.

The military cutting the car from the birds and getting it surrounded passes in a blur, and Smitheson is telling them that they are cleared to land. Tommy wants to argue, wants to get back in radio range so he can say what he needs to Evan, but he knows that they don’t have enough fuel.

He pulls far enough away from the excitement and puts his chopper down where they tell him. When his bird is shut down and it’s safe to exit, Tommy pulls his radio off and unbuckles himself; which unfortunately is not a good combo with the group of soldiers that yank his door open. Tommy goes tumbling onto the road he’s just landed on, and the soldiers around him shout in surprise. One of them grabs him and shines their helmet flashlight on him, right in his eyes.

“Pilot, are you hurt?” He yells out, and Tommy’s having some real flashback to his own tour in the military and he is not enjoying it one bit.

“Shot through the stomach,” is what Tommy manages to grit out, and instantly there are hands on him compressing his wound. The voices around him are calling out for medics. Everything past that point is heavy and foggy, and Tommy is loosing the thread of the night very quickly. He thinks to himself, Evan was right, I never would have wanted to know this was happening.

Tommy manages to grab the soldier that spoke to him earlier, and mumbles out a final message before he passes out.

“Tell Evan I’m sorry, and tell Colonel John Dewalt he owes me a dinner.”

After that is just darkness.

Contrary to what you see in movies, waking up from a serious injury is way harder than just miraculously opening your eyes and revealing your love for the person next to you. For one, it’s definitely Howie and Bobby Nash sitting at his bedside talking over him in starts and stops that his exhausted brain can’t make heads or tails of. Two, Tommy might be technically awake, but his eyes won’t open and his mouth won’t move, so he quickly gives in to his body’s desire to fall back asleep.

The next time he wakes up, Tommy does manage to open his eyes, but again it’s not the person he wants to give some crazy bedside confession to at his bedside; it’s Athena Grant, Hen Wilson, and Maddie Han. Athena clocks him first, and her eyes widen.

“Oh no, do not wake up for me Tommy Kinard, I am not dealing with your man about it. You and he are just as crazy as the other, you just go back to sleep until he gets back from the cafeteria.”

“Athena!” Maddie says, scandalized and laughing at once, and Hen calls out ”I’ll call the nurse.”

Tommy doesn’t hear anything after that, falling back asleep quickly.

He dreams in fragments, things that don’t make sense--Evan in the helicopter with him, Evan being the one shot, Howie being the person with the detonator. Though, there was a particularly fun one where Evan was very excited and grateful to see him return and met him on that rooftop with an enthusiastic kiss.

When he finally drags himself awake fully, Evan is there. Along with Eddie. Tommy vows before he opens his eyes and lets them know he’s awake to not say anything monumentally stupid about this.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now. Your heart rate is giving you away, man,” Comes Eddie’s voice. Tommy groans.

“Le-et me ha-ave som-e mystery, D-Diaz,” it what Tommy says in response. Well, it’s what Tommy tries to say, it’s really only “mystery, Diaz” that comes out through his desert-dry throat.

“Don’t bully him, Eddie, he’s injured.” Evan says, and suddenly he’s holding a straw to Tommy’s lips. Tommy opens his eyes finally and is looking right up into Evan’s. He feels himself settle and he drinks from the straw.

“What, like you’re not gonna bully him about flying for an hour while shot and not telling anyone?”

“Yes, but I’m going to do it later after he’s more awake. It’s called tact.”

“Yeah well my return flight is tomorrow morning I don’t have time for tact. Tommy, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m gonna kick you out.”

“You can’t, I only get this time to see him before I leave.”

“Well maybe it wouldn’t feel so urgent to see him if you hadn’t stopped being his friend for months before you moved to Texas.”

“Damn, Buck, you’re kind of mean when someone’s in the hospital.”

“Eddie, I swe--”

“Guys,” Tommy croaks, imploring them to shut up and stop contributing to his already significant headache that had made itself known after opening his eyes.

“Sorry Tommy.” They both say, eerily similar in tone in a way that tells Tommy that he isn’t the first to receive a double apology from the two. He’s feeling a little out of it, so he’ll blame that feeling later on what he says next even though he definitely thinks he told himself he wouldn’t do this,

“I’m so stupid for ever thinking you could be in love with Eddie, you’re kind of a bitch to him. You’re much nicer to me, Evan baby.”

There’s silence, sweet silence for Tommy’s pounding head, but then it gets even worse when Eddie lets out a sound that can only be labled as a squawk and start spluttering.

“You WHAT--”

“Hello Mr. Kinard!” a woman in blue comes bustling in and bodily shoves Eddie away from the bed, Evan moving back with him and pushing him out of the room by the shoulders. Tommy can hear Evan saying, “Okay Eddie why don’t you go get some coffee while the nurse checks on Tomm--” and the rest is cut off when they both leave the room and Evan kicks the door shut behind him.

Tommy watches them go and then focuses on the nurse, who is checking his vitals and then starts to go into information on his injuries. Shot, bullet was lodged in his shoulder bone but they extracted it, lost a little blood but weirdly enough the seatbelt seemed to have put just enough pressure on the hole to stop him from bleeding out, a really lucky experience all around.

He was in Palm Springs at a trauma center closer to Joshua Tree, but now that he was awake he could be assessed by the doctor within the hour and then moved back home to Los Angeles in the morning if everything seemed alright. Tommy let her words wash over him and apologized when he yawned three times in a row.

“Don’t worry, honey. From what I hear you saved the city of Los Angeles. I think you’ve earned a nap.” She pats his arm, marks something down on his chart, and then tells him the doctor should be in soon. Before she leaves completely, she looks out the door and turns back to Tommy. “Those two are coming back in. If I were you, I’d close my eyes and get back to sleep.”

Tommy laughs, but when she opens the door he does as she says. He’s not quite ready to face all of the trouble his mouth and actions have gotten himself into right now.

He doesn’t fall asleep immediately, so when Eddie and Evan come back in, he hears Evan’s disappointed “Awh, he fell back asleep,” and Eddie’s answering “Coward, he knows I was going to call him out for saying the most insane shit I’ve ever heard”.

Tommy breathes slowly and uses every ounce of the yoga knowledge he has from that yoga instructor he dated for four months once to keep his breathing in.

“Oh my god, Eddie,” Evan says, sounding bratty in the way only he can pull off, “He’s like, high on pain killers don’t blame him. Also, if you say something to him you have to say something to Maddie because she also made a comment about how it ‘wouldn’t be crazy’ that I was in love with you.”

“Dude, gross. What is wrong with your people?”

“You were Tommy’s friend first,” Evan points out, and Tommy has to hand it to him for that, but Eddie quickly responds with “and you’re the one fucking him so,”

“We aren’t currently fucking!” Is the only defense Evan offers, so Tommy retracts the point he gave Evan earlier.

“Yeah, not according to Chim, apparently you wasted no time christening my house!”

“I am not talking about this with you, also I’m killing Chim and Maddie when I see them again.”

“Oh, now you don’t want to tell me details I don’t want to--”

 Tommy starts to go foggy, and he realizes that at some point the nurse definitely pushed more painkillers. He wants to hear more of this argument, but sleep grabs him and swallows him whole before he has the chance to even try to put up a fight.

Tommy finally comes to and feels alert and actually awake the next morning. He realizes he slept right through the doctor check up, and he hopes that means he’ll be headed back to LA today.

 This time, he actually gets what he wants. It’s near silent in the room, with only the hum of machines and soft snores coming from a roll-away bed set up on the right side of the room permeating the quiet.

 The windows are open and like some choreographed scene in a romcom, Evan is laying on the extra bed; deeply asleep with sunlight trailing through his curls, highlighting his birthmark. His lips are red a slightly open, and his upper half is covered in a hoodie that Tommy knows says Kinard across the back even though he can’t fully see it.

Evan lets out a particularly loud snore and his hand comes up to swat at his nose. Tommy can’t help but be charmed.

 He reaches over with a very sore arm to grab a cup of water that has been placed on the table next to his bed, greedily sucking down the water until the straw makes a grating noise when there’s no more liquid in the cup. The noise jolts Evan awake, and before Tommy can blink Evan is flailing (falling) out of the extra bed and throwing himself into the chair next to Tommy.

 “H-hey Tommy, how are you feeling?” He says it quietly, bringing a hand up to run his fingers through Tommy’s no doubt disgustingly greasy hair.

 “M okay, Evan,” he says, and stretches his neck left to right. He swallows before saying the thing he’s really been thinking of this whole time.

 “Friendship is being there, when things are hard.”

 Evan looks confused, in the way he usually does when he wakes up, but he smiles before too long and nods.

 “Yeah, yeah I agree.”

 Evan pushes the call button, and pats Tommy’s hand like he understands just how important it was that Tommy got that out. He probably does.

 The doctor bustles in and introduces herself, and tells Tommy how lucky he is, and says that Evan can take him home.

The ride back isn’t too long, just under two hours, and Tommy is eager to stay awake after four days asleep so he and Buck finish out “Set II” and begin on “Set III” of the 36 questions. Evan unsurprisingly has the list memorized so when it’s his turn he easily gets his questions out, but Tommy has to pull the list up again after he’s responded to all of the texts he received during his heroics and healing. It’s weird at first hearing the answers in person; and it’s honestly harder to ask the questions themselves, but Tommy feels good as they do it.

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?” is how Tommy kicks it off, and Evan answers deeply and thoughtfully, which is at odds with the way he’s shoving a donut into his mouth as he pulls onto the highway.

“For a long time, it felt really conditional in my life. I’ve talked a lot about this in therapy. I felt like my parents never gave me affection and love unless they had to in order to keep up appearances or only when they felt really bad for me, like when I was injured. Maddie was really the only one growing up that gave me love and affection without something having had to have happened first. And that? Sucked. Then I got older and Maddie left, so there was a real love and affection vacuum in my life. Unfortunately that led me to a lot of meaningless sex and hook ups. It wasn’t until I settled in at the 118 and I met Abby that I started to realize that love and affection don’t have to be contractual. Er, well, Abby maybe didn’t help with that actually but she did snap me out of my sex-additct ways.”

Tommy tries hard to say things back to Evan that are genuine and aren’t the first things that come to his head, so for this first one he says, “I can understand that. I’m glad you don’t feel that way any more.” and that gets him a grin from Evan as he pushes his sunglasses back into place and changes lanes, so Tommy thinks he’s doing alright.

Evan has the next question with, “Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.” which is one for both of them and breaks up some of the heavy air in a way that Tommy and the hole in his abdomen that is pulsing a bit with all of the emotion coming out of them appreciate. To be fair, Tommy starts but they’re off pretty quickly, alternating. They decide to share five each.

“I appreciate how you chase after things that are important to you.”

Evan nods in acknowledgement before following with, “I really like how capable and calm under pressure you are.”

“I’m amazed at how positive you are, even when you’ve dealt with really difficult things.”

“I like how you can look at something and have a good idea of how to fix it even before you know what’s wrong.” That one makes Tommy’s cheeks heat a little, and he pauses for just a moment before sharing his next one.

“You’re unimaginably sweet, and very selfless.”

“I think that’s two, but okay,” Evan chuckles, “You’re so funny, genuinely. Even when it’s at my expense.”

Tommy doesn’t know what to say to that, so Evan follows up with, “Which, honestly I think I kind of need in my life? Like you aren’t actually mean to me. But I do think I need someone to laugh with me about me sometimes.”

“I like the way you take up space unapologetically. You’re never afraid to be you.”

“I love how solid you are. I had this dream a few times where I got injured on the job and you’d be able to carry me out no problem.”

“Hmm, might have to wait a few weeks for that,” Tommy says, trying to ignore the way that one made his throat tighten. Evan laughs softly and nods. “I really like how observant you are. There are so many things I miss in everyday life but you always seem to be paying attention and cataloguing everything you see.”

“I love the way you love rom coms. It’s kind of amazing to watch you watch one with the intensity you have towards the Lakers.”

Tommy laughs out loud at that one, and looks down at his phone. He asks Evan question number 23, “How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?”

Evan gives him a look, and says “I think you can extrapolate from my earlier answers; but my family isn’t really close and warm. They’re better now, but there was always something off. I just didn’t know it was a dead brother. My childhood wasn’t awful--but it was one that was haunted by a nine year old boy I couldn’t save. So, yeah.”

Tommy swallows, and lets that sit as long as Evan wants it to. He isn’t sure they’re there yet--where they can comment on each other’s childhoods. Evan clears his throat and barrels forward.

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Tommy is quiet, thinking about how he wants to answer this. He decides that if Evan can be sharp about his childhood brush with death, so can he.

“She died when she gave birth to me. She was too young, only seventeen, and there were complications. I made it but she didn’t.”

It’s Evan’s turn to be quiet, and before either of them can come up with what they want to say, he pulls off at and exit and says “gotta get gas.”

They stop off long enough for Evan to get gas and Tommy to hit the restroom and grab some snacks. He gets back in the car and hands Evan a flavored water and protein bar, and tears into the oatmeal creme pie he got for himself.

“Nice, I love these protein bars,” Evan says, happily ripping open the packaging and taking a bite, “Thanks, Tommy.”

“I remembered,” Tommy says around his snack cake, trying not to choke as some does down his throat.

Evan hums, choosing to actually chew and swallow before talking.

“I used to think that we didn’t know anything about each other, you know.” He says before shoving the rest of the bar in his mouth and chewing and swallowing again. “But, like. With all of these questions

I did realize we knew some things about each other. Yeah there’s a lot we’ve learned and still need to learn, but there’s more there that we knew than I ever thought.”

Tommy lets that wash over him, doesn’t comment. He finishes his snack and chugs half of the Coke Zero he grabbed for himself before pulling his phone out.

“Um, on to ‘Set III’ then?” He asks, suddenly unsure. Evan nods so Tommy pushes on. “Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling...”

“We are in this car feeling...awkward. We are in this car feeling...vulnerable. We are in this car feeling...hopeful?” Evan says the last one with a questioning lilt in his voice and doesn’t look over at Tommy.

“Yeah,” Tommy agrees, and he sees Evan’s shoulders relax. Evan nods before asking the next one.

“Complete this sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share ...”

“My life,” Tommy blurts without thinking, so quickly that Evan’s eyes dart over to him and stay there for a few seconds before returning to the road. “I wish I had someone with whom I could share, uh, my life.”

Evan doesn’t say something, and Tommy is glad. He just lets the answer hang there until Tommy collects himself enough to ask the next question.

“If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know”

Evan tilts his head and glances at the GPS, taps his hands on the steering wheel. It’s the longest he’s taken to answer a question in person.

“W-well,” He starts, voice not very confident, “I think it would be important for them to know that they have a place in my life that’s different than the other relationships in my life. I would want them to know that every relationship in my life is different and doesn’t threaten theirs, and that I want them and only them...in that specific, um, friendship.”

Tommy is honestly kind of impressed at the way that Evan managed to shoe horn that in, and he almost allows it. But he also knows that if they want this to exist beyond just this car and the hospital bed and their text messages, he needs to be ready to have tough conversations.

“Can we talk about it?” Tommy says before he can chicken out. Evan lets out a gusty breath and sags downward.

‘Yeah, please?” He says, sparing Tommy a glance for a s ling as he can manage and still watch where they’re going.

‘That was really, unbelievably stupid of me, Evan. I should have never implied that you were in love with Eddie. I knew it wasn’t true. I think I was just scared because it seemed like in that moment everything was too easy--you agreed to try again and I didn’t even need to do anything to convince you--”

“--Oh I think you did something to convince me,” Evan interjects with an unmistakable leer.

“--you know what I mean. I was just, afraid of screwing it up so I just torpedoed it instead. Which, I know, is counterproductive.”

“Thank you for saying that, Tommy. I want you to know that you never have to worry about that. But, I also want to be honest with you. I did cheat on a partner once. It was stupid, it was a drunken kiss when I knew better. But I need you to know the second I did it I regretted it, and I’ll never do it again.”

That gave Tommy pause, but if he wants to try this he needs to not let small things get to him.

“Thank you for telling me that, Evan. I want to be better, with you. I promise no more accusing you of having feelings that I know you don’t.”

“Thank you. I promise that I won’t say things I don’t mean just to hurt you.”

“Good, okay,” Tommy chokes out, and it feels like a weight is gone from the car. He looks at the GPS, and they’ve only got about 17 minutes left on their drive. He makes a decision for both of them.

“I think we should have the last questions for later, huh? We’re almost there.”

“Yeah, that’s good with me,” Evan says, and he gently turns the radio up so that there's music softly playing as they venture further into the city that they saved.

Evan stays the night because it’s late, and in the morning Tommy is treated to a Faceplant burrito from Hellbenders. It’s sausage and frito and nacho cheese goodness, and if Tommy wasn’t already hopelessly and complicatedly in love with the man, the burrito would have sealed the deal. It’s of course when he’s got half a burrito in his mouth and Evan is watching him with a look that’s half-disgust and half-fondness that he hits Tommy with a question.

“28, Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met”

 Maybe Evan knows him too well, and he waited until his mouth was full to give Tommy and excuse to think for a moment.

 “Didn’t we kind of already do this one?”

 “Yeah, there are some ones with similar points, I think that’s on purpose.” Evan then attempts to eat his own burrito in one and a half bites and theres only the sound of chewing for a moment. Tommy swallows and speaks.

 “I really like how thoughtful you are. It’s kind of insane how much you remember about others and act accordingly. You know my favorite foods and brands; you always leave the TV on the channel I watch in the morning. You remember every birthday of everyone in your life and could easily get them a gift that is perfect for them with no notice. Sometimes I think you get wrapped up in things and feel guilty when someone feels slighted, but that’s so unfair to you because you are so incredibly thoughtful all of the other times. It’s okay to slip up once or twice.”

 “I-” Evan stutters, seemingly at a loss for words. Tommy is propelled on by a sense of wanting to right a wrong.

“And sometimes it’s not even your fault, because you aren’t working with all the information. Like, I know you felt bad because you thought you forgot our 6-month anniversary. But honestly, I got luckily and was looking and my calendar that morning and calculated it. I never set a precedent that we would be celebrating that. That wasn’t on you.”

 Evan is quiet for a long moment, and Tommy almost gets to the point of regretting his words. But Evan’s got a tiny little smile on his face, and he eventually lets out a quiet, “Thanks, Tommy.” so Tommy is counting this one as a win. He decides to keep the questions going since Evan isn’t due in to the 118 until later that afternoon and the stitches in Tommy’s abdomen and shoulder have him grounded for a while yet to come. He pulls the article up on his phone.

 “Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.” He says, and then takes the final bit of his burrito into his mouth.

 Evan groans and scrubs a hand down his face before shoving the rest of his own burrito in his mouth in a hurry. Tommy smirks but doesn’t comment.

 “Okay, don’t judge me too harshly.” Evan implores eventually, laying his hands out flat on either side of his burrito wrapper. “So, you know the bombing and my leg and everything. What I didn’t tell you is that stupid, hot-headed Buck took over after I found out that Bobby was the one keeping me from going back to work. There was this lawyer,”

 “Oh, Evan,” Tommy can’t resist saying.

 “Oh, Evan is right. I called him and I threatened to sue the LAFD. I thought it would be just a threat and Bobby would finally take me seriously; but they dragged everyone through the mud, and made the 118 hate me. It was awful, and I’m still so embarrassed about it.”

 “Well, I’m sorry about that Evan.”

 “Why? It was my fault, I’m the idiot who called a sleazy lawyer and almost ruined every relationship I had in my life at the time.”

 “No, I mean, I’m sorry you felt like you had to do that.”

 “What, what do you mean?” Evan asks, sincere and admittedly adorable with his eyebrows pulled together.

 “C’mon, anyone who’s met you could tell you that your job means everything to you. There’s no way you would have jeopardized it like that without a really good reason. Were you ready to go back? Did Bobby have a leg to stand on--” he pauses and winces, “--sorry, no pun intended, when it came to keeping you out of the job?”

 “Well, no, but--”

 “Then there you go. I’m sure you felt justified at the time, and unfortunately you got taken advantage of by that lawyer. And if you’re still hung up on it like this, clearly you learned from it. But, you don’t hurt people on purpose, Evan.”

 “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

 Tommy nods, drinks down the rest of his orange juice, and lets Evan determine if they’ll keep going. He seems to have decided that he doesn’t want to be the only vulnerable one here this morning, so he says “when did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?”

 Tommy tilts his head, honestly trying to remember, and says “I genuinely don’t cry that often.”

 Evan just hums and encourages him to continue.

 “I think...the last time I cried in front of someone else was when I saw a movie a few years ago. I don’t even remember the movie, but I definitely remember bawling with the rest of the packed theater.”

 “Yeah, fair enough,” Evan says, grinning slightly. “What about alone?”

 Tommy genuinely tries to think of the last time he cried alone, and he feels dread fill him when he realizes when that was.

 “Uh, well. It was definitely more recent,” Tommy starts, trying to be delicate, “I think it was...after we, uh, christened Eddie’s house.”

 For a moment, Evan is too caught up in his phrasing to feel bad about it, letting out a strangled “you heard Eddie say that--” before finishing with a lackluster, “Oh. Uh. What I said?”

 “Yeah, sorry.” Tommy says, lamely.

 “No, don’t be sorry!” Evan says, stumbling over his words to get them out in a rush. “It’s okay, that’s the point of these questions right? It’s okay.”

 “Right, definitely. Maybe the next one is a little less heavy,” Tommy tries to say to lighten the mood. He looks at the article and zeroes in on question 31 before reading it out to Evan, “Tell your partner something that you like about them already.”

 “Oh. Well, I mentioned a few already, but those were pretty deep. So, if we want to lighten the mood a little...I really, really, like your body.”

 Tommy sputters a bit but can’t help but grin at Evan, who’s sporting a matching one.

 “You are so hot, and strong, and the way your hands feel on me makes me a little crazy.”

 “Just a little?” Tommy shoots back, feeling the simmering level of horny that has been a constant companion in his life since Evan waltzed into it begging to ratchet up. He has to keep himself in check and not hurtle them towards a repeat of the thing that made Tommy cry on his own just a month ago.

 “Or, you know, a lot,” Evan says, grin turning wicked and sharp at the corners, eyes drifting down to said hands where they rested in front of Tommy.

 “Christ, Kid, I’m injured, take it easy on me,” is the only thing Tommy can think to say to cool the conversation down. Evan doesn’t help when he bites his lip and shrugs.

 “Suit yourself,” he says lowly, getting up to gather their trash and throw it away in the kitchen--swinging his hips just a little more than usual on the way (Tommy is sure of it).

Evan asks, “what, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?” while they’re on the way back from Tommy’s latest physical therapy appointment.

 “Drunk driving,” Tommy says, no need to think about that one.

 Evan hums, and reaches over to put his hand comfortingly on top of Tommy’s. They let it hang there, and Tommy thinks of a million things he could say--thinks about telling Evan more about Shelly and Annie--but he lets it go. Evan just holds his hand, and hums along to the song playing lowly on the radio.

 For the first time in a long time though, Tommy lets himself think about them.

It’s later that night and they’re on Tommy’s back porch listening to the ambient sounds of his neighborhood, trying to catch glimpses of stars in the cloudy sky. Tommy doesn’t have a lead up, so he just asks, “If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?”

 Evan looks at him, and for a moment Tommy thinks that they’re finally going to talk about it, they’re finally going to break through the dam that’s holding back every thing they do and don’t want to say about their relationship. Just when Tommy has prepared himself for it, Evan curves with his answer.

 “Probably a lot of things, like how proud I am of Maddie and whether or not I really do forgive my parents. How happy I am that Hen and Karen got Mara back, how awesome Bobby has been for me. How much I admire Athena, how much I think May is going to be a kick ass adult. How much I want Chim to promise me to take care of Maddie. So much happens in our lives that I miss out on so many pockets of time to tell people things. They all just kind of build up in the back of my head. So...probably a lot of things.”

 “I can understand that,” Tommy replies, a hint of a joke in his voice, “your life is kind of insane, Buckley.”

 Evan lets the joke be what it is and laughs, agreeing before posing the next question to Tommy. He gestures towards the house behind him.

 “Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?”

 Tommy thinks about this one, thinks about that morning in the car.

 “After my stepmom and half-sister, Shelley and Annie...after they died, and my dad was still in the hospital, I went back to his house and I took everything that mattered to the two of them. Shelley’s perfume that she always wore and these dangly earrings she said her mom gave her; and Annie’s baby book and her favorite bear that I had picked up from a dollar store for her; I took it all and I’ve still got it, along with some pictures of them.”

 He pauses and breathes deeply. Just like in the car, Evan reaches over across the patio chairs and grabs at Tommy’s hand, he squeezes it and Tommy continues.

 “It’s in a box up in my bedroom closet. I don’t know what to do with it all, but I knew that I couldn’t leave it in that house with him--if he got out of jail I knew he would toss it all. So I kept it in a storage container two towns over until I left the military and then I brought it here to LA with me. I’d run back in a burning house for that.”

 Evan looks like he wants to ask a question but is fighting himself not to at the same time. Tommy breathes out slowly and nods. “You can ask.”

 “Is your dad still in jail?”

 “Yeah, he got fucked because it turned out that the judge on his case was best friends with Shelley’s father. No one really likes that kind of bias in the courts, but if it keeps a mean drunk who took the lives of a woman and her baby in jail, no one bats an eye. He was up for probation once, but I took a few days off to go and talk at the hearing. He was so mad when he saw me, and he had no remorse. I told them in no uncertain terms that my father deserved to die in jail. With any luck, he will.”

 Evan doesn’t respond at first, but he gets up and kneels in front of Tommy’s chair. He’s so beautiful, and his eyes are just a bit glossy, and Tommy feels all at once too exposed and safe.

“Let’s go to bed, huh?” Is what Evan whispers, and Tommy lets him lead them back into the house.

Evan is making dinner in Tommy’s kitchen when Tommy asks the next one.

 “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?”

 “Maddie,” Evan says without a hint of hesitation. It’s not until after he’s said it that he pauses his hands and frowns. “Right?”

 “Are you asking me?” Tommy says from his position at the island where he’s been regulated to simply watching Evan chop vegetables for their stir-fry dinner.

 “Um,” Evan starts and stops, looking unsure. His eyebrows furrow and he shakes his head. “No, definitely Maddie. Of course. Or, well. Maybe Jee-Yun. That one would be pretty scary. I don’t know how I could handle that. I don’t know if I could.”

 “Evan--” Tommy starts, but Evan is looking pretty closed off. He doesn’t want to push more than necessary, not with this fragile thing starting to knit itself together in between them.

 “Let’s talk about something else, please.” Evan says, and Tommy allows it. For all Evan has clearly considered his own death, it seems like the deaths of those around him are unfathomable.

 Tommy shifts the conversation to the latest call Evan had told him about, a fire in a theatre during the second act of Julius Caesar, but he continues to look at the way that Evan’s shoulders haven’t quite come down from his ears yet. Tommy sighs as he listens to Tommy talk about the props and how the person playing the soothsayer had gotten a little too close to a lit candle and had their robes go up in flames; then was stripped almost naked by Hen and Chimney in a bid to get them off.

 Tommy has learned so much about Evan in this little experiment of his, but often he’s reminded that these questions won’t be enough for either of them. When he does unravel this elaborate net encompassing them, there’s still going to be them on the other side of it--whether they’re ready for that or not.

Over a week passes and Evan doesn’t ask question 36. After the way question 35 went, Tommy won’t push it; too afraid to shatter the facsimile of peace and healing that’s fallen over his house. Evan is there in between all of his shifts, helping Tommy with his physical therapy and cooking for him, staying in the guest bedroom when Tommy doesn’t protest.

It’s been a good facsimile, all things considered, but it’s slowly eating Tommy alive through uncertainty. Half of him wants to go on pretending forever but the other half keeps him up at night, wondering which morning is going to be the last one Evan spends with him. If Tommy were an outsider looking in, he’s sure he would tell the person in his shoes now that there’s no way Evan would walk away now--he’s spent too much time, invested too much energy into this relationship just to walk away. But being an outsider is a lot different than being in it. He’s too close, too scared to ask what’s next.

Evan wakes up from sleeping off his last shift before two days off when he finally starts to make noise about what’s going to happen now that Tommy is facing down going back to work and integrating back into normal life.

“So, Tommy,” Is how he starts, grabbing Tommy’s empty breakfast plate with own and stacking them in preparation to be taken to the kitchen. He sets them down on the coffee table and leans forward, elbows on his knees. “You’re all healed up, back to work in a few days. I guess I, uh, should start staying back at my house.”

Tommy nods, and hums in agreement, before replying with “yeah, I guess that’s right.”

It feels inadequate, but Tommy never learned how to really fight for what he wants without being given express permission to do so. He wants Evan to ask him the last question. In a fit of courage, he tries.

“Do you want...do you want to ask me number 36? We should finish it, right?”

Evan looks a bit heartbroken, for just a second. His eyes close and his mouth turns downward. His body slumps just slightly forward. It all vanishes as quickly as it came though, and he wipes a hand down his face and then turns to look at Tommy directly, faux casual in the way he poses.

“Yeah, of course. Okay, 36. So it’s ‘share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen’.

“I want to try again, with someone I think could be the love of my life. I hurt them a lot though, and even though we’ve covered a lot of ground, and we know each other more than we ever did, and have gotten to somewhere I think is good, I’m still afraid to ask them outright if they could give me one last chance. What do you think I should do? How do you think I’m feeling about this?”

Evan looks at him, blue eyes and wine-colored birthmark and face full of hope and all. He smiles and blinks quickly, like his eyes have started to sting.

“I think it’s okay to be scared,” Evan says, leaning forward. “I’m scared too. But...please, please ask me, Tommy.”

“Evan,” Tommy starts, “If it’s okay with you I’ve got a 37th question. Will you try again with me? Now, after all of these questions? Do you like the person you learned about enough to try again?”

The look on Evan’s face is like sunlight breaking through the clouds; a grin stretching across his lips with no hesitation, eager determination in his eyes. “Yes, yes, of course, Tommy. I would love to.”

Any other words are quickly silenced by their lips meeting, hands grasping and hips and arms, desperation and homecoming all at once.

"No, bud. Tommy wanted to ask you something." Buck tells him, a little pang going through his heart when their foster son thinks they're going to send him to bed at 3 PM on a Saturday.

"Oh," Graham says, twisting his body to look up at Tommy.

Tommy looks surprised, and Buck should be a little insulted that Tommy thinks Buck hasn't seen him worrying at the flyer from their local hardware store for the last six days.

"Um, yeah." Tommy says, sending Buck a bit of panic eyes before visibly steeling himself. Buck settles in to watch, wanting Tommy to have this moment. "Graham, I was wondering if you want to go to a special class with me tomorrow."

"Like school?" Graham asks, head tilting as he asks.

"Kind of. But this would be just a few streets away at Johnson's Hardware. It's uh. It's a Little Builders class. You and I could go and we would use wood to make an airplane for you to play with and keep in your room."

Graham contemplates, and Tommy looks like he's breaking into a sweat.

"Mr. Bu-uck comes too?" Graham replies, twisting around again to look at Buck. Buck smiles at him, but sees Tommy's face droop a little out of the corner of his eye. Buck shakes his head.

"No, bud. This would be just you and Tommy. I think you guys would have a lot of fun together."

Graham thinks about that for a moment, and turns once again to face Tommy.

"Uh, I don't, uhm, I do-don't know how to do that Mr. Tommy. Is that okay?" His little voice is so sincere, and Buck feels his heart twinge. He watches as Tommy's heart swells.

"Yeah, of course Graham. When I was your age, I didn't know how to do that either. But now I've made a ton of airplanes and boats and cars out of wood. And I would really love to help you learn."

Graham sighs happily in the way that they've learned means he's extra excited but too shy to show it.

"Do y-you um, have some? Here at your house."

Buck grins as Tommy's eyes light up.

"Tommy has a whole bunch of 'em," Buck says, leaning down to smile at Graham, "and I bet he would love to show them to you."

Graham looks up at Tommy again, and possibly for the first time since they brought Graham into their home, Buck sees the man he married with all the confidence he usually weilds with ease.

"Yeah, do you want to see our garage? It can be our workshop." Tommy says with a smile and a crack in his voice.

"Yeah!" Graham cries, louder than they've heard him before, and Honey grumbles and woofs softly from where she had been napping on Buck's other side.

"You two go ahead," Buck tells them, blinking back a sting in his eyes, "all good builders need a snack. Me and Honey will bring one out in a bit."

"Okay," Tommy says softly, and gets up. He offers a hand to Graham who doesn't take it but hive fives it on his way jumping down from the couch. Tommy chuckles and it only sounds a little damp. "Let's go."

They walk off side by side, Graham softly asking Tommy a question. Before they disappear around the hallway corner, Tommy looks back at Buck with a grin.