#spec fic

Everyone speaks "Common", which is the normal, default-language (probably associated with humans), with each other species/race having their own [weird sounding] languages At best, basic and functional. At worst, speaks to some really euro/Anglo-centric perspectives on how language works. Fine for your personal D&D game, but both unrealistic and uninteresting in terms of worldbuilding. (1/10)

Everyone just speaks the same language but no explanation is given as to why Again, basic and functional. Makes very little sense unless you're in a very small setting, so you'd think I'd dock that for being unrealistic. But this says 'this story doesn't have the scope to handle translation logistics' and I respect that honesty. 3/10

Earth (or future Earth or AU Earth) where everyone just speaks different real world languages By default, the most realistic! Perfectly respectable. Can be very easily used to explore the real-life politics of language. But by dint of being realistic, also a little boring, though it's ultimately all in execution. (5/5, +/- 2 depending)

Scientifically-created perfect instant universal translator For when you need your cast of international/intergalactic characters to I appreciate this one for giving me a willing suspension of belief for how all these characters can understand each other. However, introduces a new belief to suspend because i Do Not Believe we could invent this under real world physics. I find this fun but think writers could get weirder about this one. (6/10)

Magically-or-psychically-powered (etc) perfect instant universal translator The last one, but make it magic. Which sure is just a rebrand in the techno babble but works better for me. Again, I think writers could get weirder (6.5/10)

Characters speak "Common" as a lingua franca, deconstruction remix Okay, now we're cooking. You're actually exploring what would cause a so-called "common" language means, the history that would cause it to take root, and the interspecies/racial/group politics and tensions that exist. Fun! (7/10)

Look at me, I made a conlang! Okay, cool, impressive. but like... did you do anything with it? (7.5/10)

I made a conlang (or conlangs PLURAL) and it's relevant to both characters and plot! Damn, fair enough man. Respect. Tolkien would be proud. however, i personally am jack shit at languages, so if it's relevant enough to the plot I need to understand it, I'll struggle. it's not you, it's me. (8/10)

Characters speak many languages in this setting, which is a major political theme My personal catnip. It's like speculative linguistics and anthropology and politics and all this bullshit i love. <3 <3 (9/10)

911: we called swat me: hey what if buck saw rocker at the hospital—

The hallway is quiet, after everything. A few of the SWAT officers have hauled the gunman away in cuffs while the rest wait for orders, Harry is with May and Athena, and Buck and Ravi are out in the hallway, happy to let the Grants be together and have some time to breathe for themselves.

"You kids did good," Buck hears behind him as a heavy hand lands on each of their shoulders. "Seriously. Risky moves, but they paid off."

"Thanks, man," Buck replies absently, still watching May and Harry through the glass.

He turns after a moment to properly acknowledge the guy, and the first thing he notices is the chiselled jawline underneath the helmet, the cleft in his chin. It's familiar, too familiar, but maybe that's just what he's looking for; maybe he's reaching for something that isn't there, something to comfort himself after this hell of a day.

Title: “there’s no looking back for us”

The sudden blaring of You’re All I Need To Get By from his phone makes him jump, almost spilling the coffee he’d just made. Tommy’s not usually a jumpy guy, but there’s only one person that ring tone belongs to and he hasn’t heard it in over a year.

He sets his coffee down but doesn’t answer it. Just watches his phone light up and listens as the song continues until it cuts off eventually.

It’s silent for a moment. Tommy holds his breath. This feels like a precipice he’s not sure he wants to even look over the edge of.

But when the song starts again, Marvin Gaye has barely uttered the first lyrics before he snatches up the phone to answer it. Even in his hand, though, he considers ignoring it, just go about his day without getting involved in whatever’s happening now. He moved past this already.

“Evan?”

and then eddie walks in after them, caught up in restocking the ambulance and closing shift shenanigans, and he sees it, just sitting there, and he picks it up and finds the irony in all of it, this whole day circling around rings, and he’s looking it over when hen comes in and catches him with it and asks what he’s doing with a ring in his hand, and his brain just short circuits for a second because yeah what is he doing with it, and he tells her as much because he just found it on the floor and somebody must’ve dropped it, and hen promises she’ll keep an ear out if anyone’s missing a ring but he should just hold onto it, so he puts it in his locker and forgets about it, like buck did.

weeks pass, no one mentions it again, until one shift when eddie forgets something in his locker and asks buck to grab it for him after their showers, and buck opens the locker and there it is, his ring, in eddie’s locker, and he comes back holding it confused out of his mind because what the hell is my ring doing in eddie’s locker? and he asks eddie straight up and eddie’s brain short circuits all over again because your ring? what do you mean your ring? Why do you have a ring? and buck tells him he found it in his attic and how did you get it? and eddie’s like i found it on the floor in the locker room weeks ago after that weird shift we had and why did you keep it? and buck just shrugs and suddenly they’re both just staring at each other because how do you explain something like this, how does a ring just keep finding its way back to them.

They’ve been on scene for a little over an hour. Buck has spent most of that time popping open car doors and doing basic triage while a trail of paramedics follow behind him and Ravi, getting people onto stretchers or giving them the okay to walk to the tents that have been set up. For all that it’s a major pileup, they’ve been lucky in that there are no car fires, and while there have been serious injuries, none so far have been life threatening.

“Hen, I’ve got a patient with unequal pupils here. She needs to be on the next transport out,” Buck heard Ravi say over the radio.

“The last ambulance just left, Chim and I will come get her but it’ll be a bit before one’s back,” she replied.

“I don’t know if that’s going to be soon enough,” Ravi said. “She’s not looking too good.”

“We’re on our way,” Hen told him. A pause. “She’ll have transport by the time we get her out.”

Buck had finished clearing his lane, so he headed over to help Ravi and his patient too. Hen and Chim were right behind him with a stretcher, and he and Ravi helped load the patient once they’d given her a second look.

“How are we getting her out of here?” Ravi asked.

Buck realized the answer seconds before Hen pointed skyward, her response almost drowned out by the sudden noise from the helicopter blades.

“That’s how!” she called. “Ravi, Chim, finish this lane. Buck, help me load her.”

Buck should have known his luck wouldn’t hold when he’d seen the 217 arrive without Tommy. The universe had just been waiting to taunt him until it could make sure they’d be face to face. Well, maybe he’d be so focused on setting the helicopter down he wouldn’t notice Buck. Buck ducked his head as he held onto the back of the stretcher and followed Hen; it didn’t really make him less noticeable but he could at least try.

The helicopter set down in the intersection the police had cleared. Hen and Buck moved forward with the patient as soon as the back door slid open, and Buck was really not prepared to look up and see Tommy in the back of the helicopter instead of the pilot’s seat.

“Aren’t you usually in the front of these things?” Hen called over the noise.

“Stretched a little thin today, just filling in where I’m needed,” Tommy called back, nodding towards the 217 truck. “You already had the rest of our paramedics.” He made eye contact with Buck before looking back to Hen and the patient. “Anything else we need to know?”

Hen shook her head. “Tell Melton thanks,” she gestured to the front of the helicopter. Tommy gave her a thumbs up and reached for the door handle.

“Tommy!” Buck found his voice. His conversation with Maddie flashed through his mind. Tommy looked up at him and quirked an eyebrow, waiting. “I love you,” he blurted out.

Hen’s eyes went wide.

Tommy looked at him. Opened his mouth. Closed it. “I have to— go,” he said. “Dinner? Saturday?”

“Eight pm,” Buck agreed, his smile so wide it was almost painful. “Pick me up.”

“Okay,” Tommy’s smile appeared like the sun after rain. “It’s a date.” He shot his dorky finger guns at Buck before he closed the door.

Buck waved as they took off, only turning back to Hen when they were too far away to see him.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Good for you,” she said. “Now stop mooning and get back to work.”

“Yes Cap,” he saluted her.

“Now, or you’re cleaning as well as cooking this week,” she threatened.

“I clean as I go,” he reminded her, then dodged the forehead flick she’d aimed at him.

“This is an open channel,” Melton’s aggrieved voice came over the radio.

“I know,” Tommy replied. “but uh, I just wanted to say, same, Firefighter Buckley.”

“I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Buck — good for you and get back to work,” Hen said into the radio. She made a shooing motion at Buck.

“Sorry Cap,” Tommy said.

“Oh, did it work?” Chimney asked excitedly from behind Buck.

“Chimney, shut up,” Hen hissed.

Buck threw his arms around her and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek.

Going Once, Going Twice (8k)

"Could be some childish prank or–” Pain explodes across the back of his head and he falls to his knees with a cry. The blow stuns him, causing him to drop the knife, and his phone. He falls forward as the world tilts and spins, bile rising in his throat. His ears ring as his head hits the road. “Eddie?” Athena’s voice sounds like she’s underwater. Hands wrap around his ankles and drag him backwards, past the bumper of his truck to another car. He tries to lift his head to avoid scraping his face on the road, but he can't find the strength. The last thing he sees before losing consciousness is the trunk to a car opening.

For the @badthingshappenbingo prompt: brain damage