On Writing

In an attempt to look less pathetic, Buck pulls out his phone and mindlessly crushes some a few levels on a game Hen only had a passing interest in when she suggested he download it. He's on level 251 now and completely unstoppable.

If the signal in this place had any chance of penetrating whatever they built it from back in the day, he'd be swiping through Tinder to find someone with a place for him to go.

His screen explodes with confetti and a YOU DID IT! and Buck congratulates himself with a gulp of his zesty cocktail. He sucks the salt off his lips and gets back to the business of annihilating more sparkling rows of gems.

Four levels later, and considering his puzzling life choices, Buck hears an out of breath hi! and looks up from his screen and… he'd be lying if he said he'd never found a dude attractive, and he'd be double-lying if he said he never actively checked one out but holy shit, this guy. He's tall and chiselled and oh my god… is that a cleft?

Buck's not sure if he wants to be him or be with him — even the thought of being seen with him is intimidating.

'H-hi,' Buck squeaks out, and the guy grins, his big chest still heaving as he catches his breath.

One of the guy's shirt buttons looks like it's about to ping in Buck's direction, and Buck's getting ready to dodge it. The guy's face turns serious comically quickly as Buck stares up at him. 'Wait… you are Mark, right?'

Buck hitches his eyebrow and lays on the flirtation thicker than this guy's biceps. 'I could be,' he teases, and winks.

The guy's eyebrows nearly kiss his hairline when they shoot up in surprise and, shit, Buck's surprised, too, because he isn't Mark. He doesn't even know anyone called Mark. Why Buck says, 'Uh, yeah, that's me,' is a mystery he loses interest in solving as soon as the guy shifts his big body into the booth across from Buck.

'Thank god,' he says. He smiles in relief and oh he's not just hot, he's beautiful, too. 'I thought you woulda left by now. Tommy. Hi. I'm really sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch.'

'H-hey, no worries. You're here now.'

'I sent like, three messages.'

Buck holds up his phone and shakes it. 'No signal down here. Don't worry about it, seriously.'

'Looks like you got started without me.'

'Oh, yeah, um —' Buck can feel his cheeks getting redder as he grapples for an excuse. No way is he going to make this cover model for Men's Health think he's a loser without any friends to spend his birthday with. 'Tough shift. Not that I like, turn to booze often or anything, I don't have a drinking problem, uh… just, saving lives can be a lot sometimes.'

'Aren't you a gym teacher?'

'What?'

'You. My cousin told me she was setting me up with a gym teacher.'

Oh. Buck assumed this guy — Tommy — was meeting a date. No one turns up looking like that and smelling like that for a job interview — but the confirmation that he's been stood up by a dude makes Buck's head spin. Buck doesn't date dudes — well, he's never dated a dude. What's a date, anyway? Just hanging out, right?

Buck can do that.

Dig deep Buck, now's the time to mine your infinite resource of bullshit. 'I-I am. Oh, ha — I said, shaping lives. Young lives, you know. It's a lot of responsibility, holding their future in my hands.' Buck twists his grimace into a smile. 'Sorry, I'm kinda nervous.'

'Oh.' Tommy's face softens. 'Can I tell you a secret?' Buck nods, a little too enthusiastically, he realises, when he starts feeling lightheaded. 'Me, too.'

'You?' Buck blurts out. 'That seems pretty unlikely but thanks for trying to make me feel better.'

'It's true.' Tommy shrugs and waves a server over. Tommy's polite when he orders two of whatever he's drinking. After the server walks away, Tommy admits, very quietly, like he's divulging a state secret — 'I'm kinda new to the dating thing. With guys. I haven't been… out for very long.'

'Oh! Well' — Buck fidgets around and rubs the back of his neck — 'I've never actually been on a date with a dude —'

'Shit, I'm sorry. Andy didn't mention that.'

Andy? Andy must be the cousin. Buck gives himself a mental high five for his listening skills. Girls love guys who listen… it's probably the same for guys, too, right?

'I never mentioned it to Andy. Seriously, it's cool.' Buck reaches out and touches Tommy's hand and what the hell is he doing?! 'You're making me feel really comfortable.'

Tommy takes a deep breath. 'You sure it's not the tequila?' Buck's eyes flit down to the light dusting of chest hair peeking out of the top of his shirt, and Tommy grins knowingly. Distracted by the thought of what Tommy might look like without the shirt, he'd kinda forgotten that his hand was resting on top of Tommy's. That is until Tommy turns his own hand over and rubs his thumb over Buck's skin. 'I've never held a guy's hand in public before.'

Buck gulps; Tommy's hand is bigger than his own and Buck's fits in the cradle of his palm perfectly. 'Me either.'

Tommy has a few scrapes and scratches on his arms and hands, and long fingers that are blunt and tough at the end. He probably works with his hands — wait, does Mark know what Tommy does for work?

Where is Mark, anyway? How could he have just not turned up?

'Umm, so —' Buck starts, searching for a way to kickstart his fact finding mission. The server saves the day by bringing their drinks and giving him a minute to collect his thoughts. Tommy's hand pulls away slowly, and he waves Buck off when Buck reaches for his wallet. After Tommy pays, Buck waits for him to take a sip before delivering an earth-shattering — 'So, how was your day?'

'I didn't work today. Yesterday, though…' Tommy shakes his head as his eyes widen. Buck knows that look of horror, the one that says I couldn't even begin to explain the fuckery of the day.

'That bad, huh?'

'You hear about the guy that got wedged in the canyon?

'Y-yeah! The one they had to airlift during the dust storm?'

'Yep.' Tommy raises his glass. 'That was me.'

'You're the canyon guy?'

'What? No! I was the pilot.'

'You're a pilot?'

'Oh my god, did Andy tell you I was a firefighter?' Tommy sighs. 'Sorry to disappoint you. I used to be a firefighter; I fly helicopters for the LAFD now.'

Buck should really end it here. Fake a migraine and say he feels sick. Get out before he somehow reveals his place in the 118 to the hot pilot from the 217. Only, the thought of Tommy in a flight suit is doing anything but make Buck feel sick. And the thought of him in a pair of dirty turn outs… well, let's just say Buck's thankful for the ice in his drink.

'Nice save,' Buck says, and they clink their glasses together. Buck's heard enough stories about the 217 to start a podcast series but he plays dumb and pushes Tommy for more so can have the upper hand in separating fact from fiction.

When the lights in the bar dim further, and the music turns their conversation into a shouting match, Buck realises he and Tommy have been talking for almost an hour.

It's one of the best dates Buck's ever been on, and when the music turns up and Tommy scooches up closer so he can hear Buck talk about his time in Peru, Buck thinks that being a gym teacher called Mark is really working for him.

Being so close to Tommy is really working for him, too: he's never kissed a guy (spin the bottle doesn't count!) but he's sure he's going to be kissing this guy by the end of the night. Probably going to be kissing him next Saturday, too, after the Muay Thai lesson Tommy's offered to give him.

Somewhere between now and then he'll have to work out how to transition from Mark to Buck. There's no way Buck wants to be tied to the dude who stood a guy like Tommy up. Basing a relationship on lies probably isn't a great start, either.

Their conversation lulls as the bar fills up. The voices of strangers fill the comfortable silence that has settled between them. Four people hover around their booth, circling like sharks.

When the music kicks up another notch, and the new arrivals become impatient enough to lean against their table, Tommy leans in and says, 'Hey, do you wanna get out of here?'

'Yes!' Buck yells loudly enough to turn a few heads.

'We could get a coffee or something. I don't usually —'

'I do! I mean' — Buck leans in, his lips grazing the shell of Tommy's ear as he continues — 'I'd love to get out of here with you, yes.'

After an awkward shuffle out of the booth while new people take their place, they head up the stairs to street level. It's just as alive with people as the bar below. Tommy keeps a little more distance out in the open but his eyes track Buck as they move through the crowd together.

Together under a flicking neon sign of an old movie theatre, they stand. Not quite toe to toe but close enough that anyone passing by could guess they're together. Tommy's putting out all the vibes of wanting to kiss but he's not making any of the moves.

Buck's great at first moves, it's just everything after that usually turns into a mess. Tommy's face is gorgeous in the evening light: all high cheekbones and a strong, smooth jaw begging to be touched. With their eyes locked, Buck reaches out to draw Tommy closer to give him what they both want.

It's weird to see a big guy like Tommy flinch. Confusing, too. They apologise to each other at the same time. 'It's not that I don't want you to,' Tommy says reassuringly, 'it's just… too much. Outside. Too open.'

Buck nods. He gets, and he doesn't, because his comfort level's been pretty much the same since Tommy sat down. But inside is good, too, if it makes Tommy feel more at ease. 'Were you serious about that coffee?'

'Sure.' Tommy shoves his hands into his pockets. 'I have my own Gaggia machine at home, so…'

'I don't know what that is.' Buck shoves his hands in his pockets, too, He's getting pretty good at gentling people on scene and those skills are coming in handy now as he mirrors Tommy perfectly. He takes the smallest step closer so Tommy can see how sincere his smile is. 'I don't know what that is but… I want to find out.'

No one has ever stared at Buck's mouth as much as Tommy has in the past couple of hours. Not even Buck's childhood orthodontist. He wants to tell Tommy so, and a few other things, too. Like how he never consciously thought about going home with a guy, especially not one who looks like he could put Buck in a firefighter's carry without breaking a sweat, but now it's all he can think about.

Tommy's phone is sealed in one of those military grade cases designed to survive a blast — or a crash, Buck's mind supplies unpleasantly — and Tommy has to fight to free it from his back pocket so he can order the Uber he promised while Buck cycles through all the possibilities of what could happen when they get through Tommy's front door.

Because as much as he wants a homemade espresso from Tommy's fancy machine, he doesn't want it right now. He wants it to help him wake up in the morning after a night of doing anything but sleeping. Is giving another dude a hand job the same as jerking off? Hopefully that's where this is going — the look on Tommy's face kinda says otherwise, but Buck knows he makes the same one when surge pricing makes walking an hour down the side of the free-way seem like a more appealing option.

'We can split the fare,' Buck says breezily.

'Yeah?' Tommy's face is stony when he looks up from his phone. Jeez, how far does this guy live?

'My place is pretty close by if you —'

'I've been trying to order a car but I've had like, a dozen messages from you telling me you got caught up in an accident and that you weren't going to make it. Oh, and one from my cousin asking why I blew Mark off.'

'Oh,' Buck tries to play it off with a nervous laugh and a smile but Tommy remains unmoved. His well-tuned body, something Buck has spent the night both coveting and lusting over, suddenly looks more intimidating than inviting. Buck takes a step back and raises his hands carefully. Gently. 'I can explain.'

The arms Buck hoped would be holding him cross defensively instead. Despite being the same height, it feels a lot like Tommy's looking down on him as he waits for Buck to come clean.

'It's my birthday, ok? I didn't have anyone to celebrate with —' Tommy stands eerily still as Buck falls over himself to explain. 'I-I just didn't want you to leave. You're really interesting. And cool. I couldn't believe someone would stand you up —'

'They didn't.'

'Ok, that's true. But I thought they had —'

'So you lied out of pity?'

'No!' This is going so much worse than Buck thought it would. 'No, Tommy —I just wanted to get to know you. Look, I know it doesn't look great but it's really not a big deal. I'm not like, a scammer. I've been through that and it sucks.' Tommy's stupidly handsome face twists in disbelief before hardening again. 'Long story; doesn't matter. I do stupid shit sometimes, ok? I'm trying not to but I'm still working on it.'

Tommy checks his phone one last time before undertaking the Herculean task of shoving it back in his pocket. Buck's used to running head on into danger but it still takes everything within him not to take a step back when Tommy gets in his face. 'Work harder,' is all Tommy says, face so close to Buck's that he can feel his breath on his skin.

And what does it say about Tommy, Buck wonders, that he's comfortable being so close in public when it looks like they're about to fight instead of kiss?

An Uber rolls up behind Buck, and Tommy's eyes flit away for just a second so he can give the driver the nod. 'If even half of what you said was true then you're a great guy. But I don't think you're ready. And I'm definitely not ready to deal with whatever' — Tommy waves his hands around — 'this is.'

'Tommy —'

'I have to go.' He weaves around Buck quickly. Buck, still caught in Tommy's orbit, moves with him, until there's nothing there to move with anymore. Tommy's fingers linger on the door handle of his waiting Uber. 'You know what the worst thing is?' Tommy asks and Buck doesn't even know where to begin because there are so many worst things. 'You haven't even said you're sorry.'

And shit, Buck hasn't, even though apologising is something he's becoming an expert in. If Tommy would just step back and wait Buck could apologise for both being himself and not being himself and for a hundred other things he hasn't thought of yet.

'Happy birthday,' Tommy says without a hint of sincerity, wrenching the door open before sliding into the backseat. He closes the door softly, which is somehow worse than if he'd slammed it to drive his disappointment home.

Buck should've clocked the tan leather jacket. Tommy had only worn it once, but that night — they made some of their best memories when Tommy was wearing it and when Buck was taking it off.

The man next to Tommy asks, "Pilot?" Then, he shakes his head, like he's coming back to himself after a short mental jaunt. "I always forget about that," he says. It's soft and Buck almost doesn't catch it. He and Chimney are maybe ten feet away.

Tommy addresses his whatever first, "You didn't know me when I still had my license."

He turns back to them, nods. "Howie, Evan." His tone is even, unreadable.

In the awkwardness of the long moment of silence between all of them, the stranger with Tommy introduces himself with a quick, awkward wave and his name. "James." He has a tight smile on his face, at least, directed at them both. He doesn't say how he knows Tommy and Tommy doesn't think to share with them either.

Buck doesn't want to assume they're seeing each other just because Tommy's gay and out for coffee with him.

Buck figures he might not get a chance to ask and he's unsettled about the new information so — what the heck!

"Hey, what did you mean about your license?" He tries to look Tommy in the eyes, but he can't tell if he's successful, not with the sunglasses in the way.

Tommy takes in a breath before he starts to explain, but he looks away from Buck as he does. It makes his stomach sink.

"You remember I was suspended after that business with Blake?" James puts a consoling hand on Tommy's arm as he starts explaining and Buck almost completely loses his focus — he feels his reaction to that more places than just his stomach.

Tommy continues, unaware. "The brass had to think about what they'd do with that whole thing with the Army and the Feds and they decided to leave me at their mercy and they directed the FAA to relieve me of my license."

Buck had been stuck on Blake — and the familiarity between Tommy and James, whose relation to Tommy Buck still doesn't know and is trying very hard not to assume. He feels embarrassed that it takes him a minute to remember that Tommy meant Moira.

Moira... who's to blame for Bobby dying and apparently Tommy being grounded for good. Though maybe that's not fair. Maybe it's because of Buck, because Tommy answered Buck's phone call.

Buck remembers the short text exchange he and Tommy had about Tommy acting as pallbearer for Bobby. Athena asked Buck to ask. Those texts were the only ones they'd sent each other after their break-up.

Buck has regretted that plenty of times, but maybe never as deeply as he's regretting it now.

Chimney's concerned face tells Buck he's got regrets of his own about falling out of touch with Tommy.

Chim's got his own questions now. "Tommy, you still with Harbor, man?"

"I was for a while," is Tommy's indirect answer.

"Tommy here's Hollywood now," James answers, with a smile that even Buck can tell is put-upon. The elbow bump that accompanies it though and the small crack of a smile from Tommy — those are friendly.

Tommy finally looks at them again as he says, "Don't listen to Jimmy. You're not gonna be seeing me on your TVs or any movie screens, so don't go looking for my face there."

Jimmy, not James.

"Anyway, we've got to go if we don't want the traffic to make us late, huh?" Jimmy's standing up, headed towards them.

'Late for what?' Buck wonders.

Tommy unfolds himself to follow the guy and it's the first time Buck notices he was sitting a little hunched — his shoulders tight, not in his usual relaxed sprawl.

"Yeah. Nice seeing you guys. Howie, Evan." That same nod, still no smile — not even one that's there only to be polite.

---

Was tagged in the last little while by these lovely people: @ambernotember, @leashybebes, @letsdosciencetoit & @sierranovembr 💜💜💜

Buck can't deny, though, that Tommy has become part of his routine. Stubbornly, he keeps telling himself it's not about Tommy, he just enjoys the café.

It becomes a lot harder to convince himself of that the first time he goes to the café and Tommy's not there.

He tries to shrug it off; after all, of course Tommy has days off. It's not like he lives there. Instead of sulking about it, Buck asks Gina for his usual coffee and a piece of chocolate cake, which is, of course, delicious — he's yet to try one of Gina's recipes and not like it. Spending time at the café kind of making him interested in baking, and he has half a mind to ask Gina for some tips.

It happens again the next day, and the wave of disappointment on his chest feels even louder. To distract himself from it, Buck does ask Gina about baking.

Once he does, they spend a long time talking recipes and some basic baking starters, which is fun — Gina knows her craft, and Buck thinks he could spend hours listening to her talk about flavor combinations and batter consistency. But the whole time, Buck is pretty sure Gina is waiting for him to ask about Tommy.

He doesn't. He really wants to, though, and that shouldn't be confusing. But it is.

He blames Maddie for that.

It gets even more confusing the next time he goes to Gina’s Roast about three days later.

Now that he's basically a regular at the café, Buck usually arrives and goes straight to his favorite table, letting Gina or Tommy just greet him there; it's easier on his leg not to stand for so long. Gina spots him right away and points to the coffee machine, mouthing 'usual?'. Buck gives her a thumbs up and then sits down, putting his crutches aside and giving Sunny a pet so she'll settle under his chair.

As he sits down and looks around, Buck tries to tell himself that he doesn't really care if Tommy is there or not.

He's not convinced.

Especially because Tommy is there, and he's holding Gina's one-year-old, Antonella. She's the cutest thing, with ginger hair just like Bianca, and a constellation of freckles on her rosy cheeks that make her look like a TV ad baby.

Seeing Tommy with her in his arms is… a vision. He's laughing openly, bouncing her around as if he's done it a thousand times before.

And Buck's stupid heart honest-to-God skips a beat.

He could be wrong, but… he doesn't think that happens to straight guys when they see their male friends, adorable babies on their hips or not.

…Huh.

Before Buck has time to dwell on it, though, Tommy spots him, and a bright smile shows on his face. He gives Antonella back to Gina and makes his way towards Buck's table. Sunny’s tail wags once, which is about the biggest display of enthusiasm she ever allows herself while on duty, but it's a clear enough sign that she likes Tommy. Like service dog, like handler, Buck thinks, and promptly tells his brain to shut it.

He hopes he's managed to school his expression by the time Tommy reaches him.

"Evan, hey!", Tommy greets enthusiastically, sitting across from Buck without even asking anymore.

"Hey yourself", Buck says, smiling brightly. "Is Gina adding babysitting to your duties? Cause I think you could charge extra for that"

"Nah, with Nelly? I should be paying Gina for the pleasure, she's such an angel", he says, smiling at the little girl who's now perfectly content in her playpen behind the counter. "Bia was way more of a handful as a baby. If I had babysat a little more often, I'm pretty sure she would've given me gray hairs"

Buck really starts questioning his straightness when the image of a gray-haired Tommy does… something. To him. Before the heat climbing up his chest can show on his face, he wisely decides to change the subject. "Wow, you've been working here a long time, huh? You knew Bia when she was a baby?"

Tommy frowns a little, clearly confused, and Buck wonders what the hell he said wrong. Or, even worse, if his very lewd thoughts about gray-haired Tommy are somehow obvious to the other man.

"I did know Bia when she was a baby, and Gio too, but I don't work here", he says, and Buck blinks.

"You don't?"

"No," Tommy chuckles, and Buck’s relieved to realize Tommy doesn’t seem offended by the assumption. "Although sometimes Gina seems to think I do. But no, I only help out when I'm off-duty. Flying is definitely enough of a job."

If Buck thought his brain was short-circuiting before, it's nothing compared to what it does now, with this new piece of (unfortunately, very hot) information.

"Wow! Y-you're a pilot?" Buck blurts out, and Tommy nods completely casual, as if he hasn't just revealed he's the coolest person alive. "That is so cool! It's like you have a superpower or something!"

Tommy shrugs, a small blush coloring his cheeks. He looks shy all of a sudden, and Buck wishes that would make his traitorous heart less interested, but it doesn't work.

If anything, it seems to cause the opposite effect.

"Ah, I don't know if I'd call it that, but yeah, um, it's nice", he says, smiling bashfully. "I mean, I'm definitely a bit of a geek about it. Sometimes I fly for fun on my days off. When I'm not hanging around here, at least"

"That's awesome", Buck says, and he's sure he looks like a starstruck idiot right now, but he can't help it. "So what kind of stuff do you fly? I knew a guy in Peru who flew jets for rich people and said it paid really well"

"That does pay pretty well", Tommy agrees, but then smiles cheekily. "But it's not what I do. I fly choppers, actually"

"Really?"

“Yeah. For LAFD.” Tommy smiles easily. “I’m a firefighter pilot.”

Buck blinks.

It's not like he hasn't heard the word 'firefighter' ever since his accident. Hell, most people in his life are firefighters.

Then why does hearing it said so casually from Tommy's lips feel like being punched to the chest?

For a second, Buck can barely hear the usual café noises over the faint ringing in his ears. He feels like he's underwater; breathing suddenly feels much harder than it did just minutes ago.

"…Evan?", Tommy's voice sounds like it's coming from miles away, and it takes all of Buck's willpower to look him in the eye. "Are you okay? You look pale"

Before Buck gets the chance to answer with more than a nod, Gina gets to their table, putting down two cups of coffee. She and Tommy exchange their usual kind of banter, and if Buck answers any of it, he doesn't remember. The only thing he remembers is the way the coffee burns his tongue once he takes too big a sip, desperately trying to ground himself. It makes him sputter a bit, and Tommy frowns, his expression turning to concern.

"Evan? Are you really okay? Was it something I said?", Tommy asks delicately, which makes Buck feel awful for the half-lie he's about to tell.

"N-no, I was just surprised, is all", he says, and is surprised by how normal his voice sounds. "Um, m-my sister is dating a firefighter"

"Oh, really? What's his name?", he asks curiously, reminding Buck that LAFD are a bunch of gossips. The reminder is, somehow, funny and painful at the same time.

"I-it's, um, Howard Han? D-do you know him?" Buck asks, desperately hoping for a negative answer so the conversation can end there.

The way Tommy's face lights up immediately crushes that hope.

"Howie? No way! Of course I know him, we used to be at the same station!"

"W-what?", Buck asks, unable to keep the surprise from his voice this time.

The loud ringing is back in his ears, his heart beating wildly against his chest.

Tommy used to be 118. Tommy used to be 118.

He used to walk the same halls, slide down the same pole, rush into the same firetrucks as Buck. Eat Bobby's family dinners. Play at the pool table. Lose to Hen at Mario Kart.

All the things he desperately misses now, Tommy knows them too.

That's…. more than Buck can deal with. Much more.

Sunny gives his good leg a nudge, resting her head on his knee and letting out a small whimper. Buck mindlessly scratches behind her ears, grateful for the comfort she's providing.

"Evan", Tommy's voice cuts through his spiral, and Buck realizes it's not the first time the other man called his name. He's looking at Buck with deep concern. "You're not alright. What's going on?"

"I, um… I don't know", Buck lies through his teeth, feeling awful about it, but the truth feels too painful right now. "I think… Maybe I overdid it at PT today. I'm a bit light-headed"

"Okay", Tommy says, and his voice takes that 'first responder' tone that Buck knows all too well and can't stand right now. "Let's put some calories in you, then. What do you want? I'll go get it"

"Um, a-anything's fine", Buck says. Anything to make Tommy go and give him a few minutes to compose himself. "Thanks", he adds.

Tommy leaves the table in a rush, and Buck hides his face in his hands, trying to take deep breaths and mostly failing. He hates this. Hates the memories rushing to him, the devastated feeling settling on his chest, hates that the café suddenly doesn't feel like a safe space anymore.

Buck faintly knows the girls will be back from school at any time, and that they'll want to play with Sunny while he and Tommy continue catching up. And just this morning, he'd been excited about all of that.

But now… He can't look at Tommy and not remember everything he's lost. It's not fair to Tommy, he's painfully aware. But Buck can't help it. Can’t help but wonder how Tommy will react once he realizes who Buck used to be before his accident. Whether his expression will soften into that same pity Buck’s gotten so used to seeing these past few months.

He doesn't want to find out.

And if they keep hanging out, it's bound to happen. Tommy, Gina, the café… They're not the fresh start Buck was in desperate need of.

They're a mirror to his past. And Buck hasn't been doing well with mirrors lately.

He has to leave.

Bobby is used to feeling guilt. It's something that follows him since Minnesota, and ever since Buck's accident, it's gotten about a thousand times worse.

Seeing how well Buck had been doing had helped. He was adapting, going to his physical therapy, adjusting to life with Sunny (wonderful, darling Sunny, Bobby's always going to thank God for the day they found her), and Bobby had allowed himself to think things would get better.

Now, though…

It starts on a day where Bobby's supposed to take Buck to PT and, half an hour before he leaves, Buck texts him "hey, Bobby, won't make it to PT today. Kinda sore.".

Bobby doesn't think too much of it. Tries not to, anyway.

But then, it doesn't stop there.

Buck hasn't been to the station ever since the accident, and Bobby wouldn't dream of asking that from him until he's well and ready. But he's been keeping in touch with everyone by texts, and inviting them over, and hanging out in the house of whoever happens to take him to PT that day.

He'll also have meals with them when invited, so they all make sure to have occasions for inviting him very often. Bobby has very pointedly made more barbecues in the last months than ever before, and it's only partially because he has a backyard now.

It's not perfect, and Bobby misses the kid at the station every single day. He knows he's not the only one, either — he lost count of how many times Eddie's turned around to tell a joke to his best friend, only to grow silent, face fallen. How many times Chim and Hen have teased Bobby and looked around to see if Buck would join them or jump in defense of his captain (a fifty-fifty equation, usually), only to realize Buck wasn't there.

But he's still in their lives. In Bobby's life. And that's why it hurts so bad when Buck withdraws almost completely, in ways he'd never done before, not even on those first dark days after the accident, where the grief in his eyes gave Bobby chills, because it reminded him so much of himself.

Even in those days, Buck hadn't pulled away from them like he's doing now. He's finding any excuse not to have people over, skipping PT and, when he does bother to go, he doesn't invite anyone to go up anymore.

Bobby, of all people, knows grief isn't linear, so he's trying to give Buck some space and keep his worry to himself. For almost two weeks, he keeps telling himself that's what Buck needs; not someone hovering.

But then, he texts Buck with a "still want me to be your ride for PT today?" and gets nothing in return. Not even an excuse, not even a thumbs down.

Nothing.

"I mean, maybe he went with Maddie or Eddie and just forgot to check his phone. It's no big deal", he's saying to Athena with a calmness he doesn't really feel.

Athena hums thoughtfully, but her sharp gaze is focused on the Tupperware container Bobby is filling with carbonara pasta.

"It's not", she agrees. "But you're still worried."

"I just… it feels very sudden. I don't know what could have happened to get him to act like this"

"Is this for him?", she asks shrewdly.

"I'm just gonna drop it at his place", Bobby shrugs, faux-casually. "If he went to physical therapy with someone else, well, I think it'll be good for him to have a good meal afterwards."

Bobby sighs then, gripping the counter with both hands, and looks directly at Athena.

"Do you think I'm overreacting?"

"Baby, I think that if this was May or Harry I'd have invaded the apartment a week ago", she says, and Bobby's surprised by how validated that makes him feel.

"Yeah, well, that's different. Buck's an adult"

"Hence why you waited this long. But enough is enough"

"And Buck's not my kid!", Bobby realizes suddenly he should have led with that, and doesn't let himself wonder why he didn't.

"Uhum, keep telling yourself that, Bobby", she says, giving him an affectionate pat on the cheek, and Bobby doesn't dignify her with an answer. Not that he'd have one, anyway.

Bobby uses his key to let himself into Buck's building, but decides to ring the doorbell before entering the apartment. If Buck's not home (or, a paranoid voice whispers in Bobby's ear, pretending not to be home), he'll just let himself in, put the food in the fridge and wait a bit to check on the kid when he's back.

He's not expecting Chimney to open the door. But he is relieved to realize he's not the only one who worried enough to come over.

"Hey, Cap", Chim greets, and the tone of his voice is enough to deepen Bobby's worry even more.

"Hey, Chim", Bobby answers warily, already scanning the apartment to check if everything's okay.

It's messier than Bobby has seen it ever since the first days Buck was home and still figuring out this new place, which wasn't even the original loft he had chosen — that one, with the bed upstairs, had quickly stopped being an option. On those days it had been an array of boxes and Sunny stuff. Now it's a different kind of mess, of takeout leftovers and clothes out of place.

Buck is in the middle of it, sitting on the couch and folded in on himself like he wants to disappear. Maddie is by his side, a pinch between her eyebrows that Bobby understands all too well.

Sunny is by his other side, her head resting on Buck's lap; she's not wearing her vest, but she doesn't get up to greet Bobby. She, like them, seems to sense that her human is not doing so well.

"Here, let me take that to the kitchen", Chim offers, already taking the food container from Bobby's hands.

Bobby barely registers it, his gaze laser-focused on the siblings in the living room. He comes closer, nodding briefly at Maddie and then looking at Buck.

"I brought carbonara", he says, because it feels easier than saying 'I was worried about you'. "Enough to last you three meals. Or two big ones, I don't judge"

Buck's mouth twitches a bit, and Bobby considers it a small victory.

"Yes, you do", he quips back, but it lacks the usual enthusiasm. "Sorry I didn't text you back, Cap, I was…"

He trails off, looking down again, and Bobby swears he feels a physical ache in his chest at Buck's sad expression.

"You don't have to apologize, Buck", Bobby reassures him. "But is everything okay? This isn't like you"

For a second, the silence hangs heavy in the apartment, only broken by a tiny whimper from Sunny. Buck looks at her, his hand buried in her fur, and lets out a shaky breath.

"Not really, no"

Bobby is surprised by the admission; Buck is usually the kind to grin and say he's fine no matter what. He and Maddie exchange a helpless look, and Bobby decides to come closer, sitting on the armchair so he can look Buck in the eye.

"Did something happen, kid?"

Buck opens his mouth, but closes it again, sighing heavily. He shakes his head.

"I… I don't think I can tell it again", he says.

"Buck… Can I?", Maddie asks delicately.

Buck presses his lips together, his hand still buried in Sunny’s fur. For a second, Bobby thinks he might say no.

Then he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut.

“…fine,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Bobby looks at Maddie then, a question clear in his eyes. She bites her lip, looking worriedly at Buck before looking back at him; it seems to Bobby she's searching for the right words.

"You… You know how Buck had been hanging out with this guy a few days ago? From the café?"

Bobby nods, a frown between his eyebrows. Buck had been very excited about going to this new café after physical therapy, and Bobby had smiled to himself seeing the way the kid absolutely glowed when answering the texts from this new friend.

Privately, Bobby had started to suspect Buck might be on the verge of figuring out something new about himself. He wasn't sure, and it wasn't any of his business unless Buck wanted it to be, but he'd already found himself mentally rehearsing an I'm proud of you, Buck speech just in case.

But he didn't think this was about Buck figuring out he had a crush on his café friend. He couldn't see Buck being this devastated about it, not even if it turned out to be unrequited.

"Yeah. Did something happen to him?"

"Not exactly, it's just… Well. Turns out he didn't work at the café as Buck originally thought", Maddie continues, and Bobby still has no idea what the problem actually is. "He… He is actually a firefighter"

Oh.

That's what the problem is.

Bobby looks back at Buck, but he is very deliberately not looking at him, unnecessarily focusing on Sunny's fur instead.

Bobby doesn't push it.

Buck's withdrawal is making a hell lot of sense to him now.

"Not just a firefighter, either", Chim says, coming to stand at Maddie's side. He casts a worried glance at Buck, but then looks at Bobby as if he's about to share something only the two of them will understand. "You're not gonna believe it, cap. It's Tommy."

It takes Bobby a second longer than usual for the name to click, preoccupied with Buck as he is.

"Tommy? Tommy who?", he asks, but then widens his eyes once it dawns on him. "Wait, Kinard?! Tommy Kinard?!"

"Yeah. Tommy Kinard", it's Buck who answers, his voice miserable.

Bobby looks between the three of them, waiting for someone to say this is a joke. He can't believe this; he sort of wants to scream at the universe on the kid's behalf. Eddie and Chim are always joking about Buckley luck (well, they used to; the jokes stopped being funny once Buck stopped escaping unscathed from his unlucky endeavors), but Bobby is starting to wonder if that's a real thing.

What are the odds that, once Buck finally starts building a new life for himself, the first friend he makes turns out to be a former member of the 118?

It's borderline ridiculous.

Bobby doesn't say any of that, though. He can deal with his own feelings about all of this later.

For now, he looks at Buck. And he sighs heavily.

"Oh, Buck."

Buck doesn't answer. His hand tightens in Sunny's fur, and Bobby doesn't know what else to say, how to fix this. Maddie and Chimney also seem at a loss for words.

"Was he… Did he say something? When you told him?"

Buck's shoulders tense, and he gives Bobby a fleeting look that he knows all too well. It's Buck's usual expression when he's done something he's not particularly proud of.

"Buck?", Bobby presses gently.

"I… I didn't tell him", Buck mumbles. "In fact, I… I haven't talked to him since I found out"

The expression in Chimney and Maddie's faces show Bobby that this is news to them as well. Bobby wonders if part of Buck's misery isn't related to the fact that he simply misses Tommy already.

(And oh, Bobby realizes in the back of his mind, this might mean he’s learning something new about Tommy too, but he files that away immediately. Buck is the priority right now.)

"Okay", he says carefully. "Why not?"

"Because!", Buck finally snaps, and part of Bobby is relieved to see him reacting. "I don't want it to become a thing! I liked that it wasn't a thing with him!"

His outburst is followed by silence, and Maddie, Chim and Bobby exchange another helpless look. Sunny moves slightly, nudging Buck's leg with her nose, and that seems to deflate him again.

"I just…", he sighs. "It felt new there, you know? With Tommy, and Gina, and the girls and… It was a place where the accident didn't matter. They never asked. And… And now it feels like…"

Buck trails off, but Bobby understands anyway. He knows very well what it feels like to be looked at by the people who knew what the worst moment of your life felt like; knows it so well that he crossed the country to flee from that feeling.

"Like your fresh start wasn't fresh at all?", he offers.

Buck looks up. For the first time since Bobby walked into the apartment, he actually looks at him.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "Something like that. It feels like if I tell him, then… Then that's another place where I'm the guy who lost his leg under a firetruck. Will I ever be able to stop being that guy?"

Bobby doesn't have an answer to that, even though he desperately wishes he did. Maddie is gently rubbing circles on Buck's back, looking at him as if she wishes she could take the pain away. Chimney, however, has a frown between his eyebrows and looks like he's waging an internal battle.

Eventually, the side that wants to speak wins.

"Buck, I get it. I promise I see where you're coming from", he says, his arms crossed over his chest. "But… Does Tommy?"

Buck looks up at him in surprise, and so does Maddie. Chimney, however, stands firm, and Bobby appreciates him for that.

"I'm just saying, man, from where he's standing, you guys were really hitting it off, and you just disappeared on him, and he has no idea why", he says, not unkindly.

Buck shifts on the couch, looking uncomfortable. Eventually, he nods.

"I know. You're right. Tommy… He's a great guy, and he's done nothing wrong. I just… I don't know how to talk to him now"

"He's still the guy you met, Buck", Maddie says gently. "Things don't have to change"

"You know that's not true", Buck says, and Bobby privately thinks he's right.

"Okay, maybe it's not", Bobby concedes. "And you don't have to keep hanging out with him if you're not ready for that. Just… Don't keep him wondering if he did something wrong."

Buck sighs, nodding minutely.

"Yeah. You're right, Cap."

"I usually am", Bobby jokes, and is beyond relieved when that gets a small smile and an eyeroll out of Buck.

That reaction seems to clear the air a bit, and some of the tension leaves all of their shoulders. Bobby decides to keep the momentum going.

"Now, wanna check out this carbonara I made?", he nudges Buck's shoulder. "I'll even give you the recipe"

"You better", Buck says, reaching for his crutches. "And I've baked brownies, so we can have that for dessert"

As they head to the kitchen, Sunny quickly leaps to the floor, standing perfectly still so she can help Buck with his balance if necessary. However, he gets himself up from the couch without assistance; the kid's getting better at it every day. Once he gets his prosthetic, he'll probably be unstoppable.