Chapter Text
Then
Admiral Thomas “Iceman” Kazansky walked at an almost leisurely pace through the halls of the Army and Navy Academy. He didn’t mind touring the campus and giving a speech if needed; however, he detested the meetings and the fact that the main reason he was pushed to come by his CO was that it would look good when promotions came up. So, here he was taking the scenic route back to the conference room where he had a meeting with the Deans of the school and General Hathaway, when he heard a shuffling noise from a supplies closet.
Now Tom was well aware of what kind of mischief a couple of teenagers could get up to in a supplies closet and how embarrassing an admiral finding them in any kind of precarious position could be, so he almost walked past. Except he was also well aware of how cruel children could be to each other, so he carefully opened the door.
Sitting on the floor of the supplies closet was a slip of a boy with a thick book on his lap. The boy looked up at him with big, blue eyes until it seemed to register to him who stood in front of him.
“Sir!” The boy scrambled up, attempting to be somewhat presentable.
“At ease, kid,” Ice said. God, he remembered when Bradley was this little and cute before he fully started to enter puberty last year. “What are you doing in here kid? I can think of far better places to read than here. The library, for instance.”
“Mrs. Pruitt always says I’m too noisy, so I try not to go to the library when she’s there, and my bunk mates say I’m a nerd for reading for fun.”
“Well, that’s not right.” Ice said, sadly, there was very little he could do directly for the kid. “What are you reading?”
“The NATOPS for the F-14 Tomcat. It’s the one you talked about in your speech this morning, and I really wanted to know the specs and how they compare to the F-15. Which I did start reading about last month before I got distracted by the history of the USS Lexington. Which, did you know that-” The kid suddenly cut himself off. His bright eyes dulled, and his waving hands were tucked behind his back. His head of curls dropped, and one foot started to scuff the floor. “Sorry sir, I shouldn’t bother you with my stupid fun facts.”
“What’s your name kid?”
“Evan Buckley, sir.”
“Tell you what, Mr. Buckley. You shouldn’t be reading in the supplies closet. It’s not safe. Now I don’t think this violation requires me to notify the Deans, but there should be consequences.” The kid perked up a bit at Ice’s words, but then drooped again when he mentioned consequences. Ice took out one of his cards and handed it to Evan. “When you finish reading the F-14 NATOPS, I want you to call and tell me everything you learned.”
“Really sir?” Evan asked, looking up at him with his big blue eyes.
“Really kid.”
Now
Buck sighed as he finished drying and putting away the pots and pans that Bobby used for lunch. He had been back at the 118 for a little over a month, and so far, he had been on clean-up duty. Cleaning up the rigs after a call that he didn’t get to go on, taking care of the gear after a rescue that he wasn’t a part of, cleaning up the kitchen after a meal he didn’t get to eat. He was starting to feel like Daisy from Downton Abbey. He didn’t even do this much scut work when he was a probie.
He started wiping down the counter while trying to ignore the laughter as the others were huddled around the TV playing Mario Kart. A year ago, he and Bobby would have made lunch and cleaned up together. He would have eaten with the team, sitting next to Eddie, laughing with Hen and Chim. He would have had help with the afternoon chores and would have been included in the brackets for the Mario Kart tournament.
He is pulled from his wallowing by his phone ringing. Not wanting to get any more on Bobby’s bad side, he continues to wipe the counter as he answers and tucks the phone against his ear.
“Go for Buck.”
“Lieutenant Buckley, I’m afraid this is not a social call.” Buck almost fumbles his phone at his Pops' raspy voice.
“Sir?”
“Lieutenant, you are being recalled from the Navy reserves. You are to report to Top Gun at 0700 on Monday. An ensign is en route with all the official paperwork, but I figured you could use an official call.”
“But sir!”
“Evan,” Buck snaps his mouth shut at his Pop’s serious tone, “I would not recall you if I did not need you.”
“But it’s been months,” Buck protested. He had long since stopped pretending to clean, instead focusing all his efforts on trying to stay in LA without saying too much in this setting. He ran his free hand through his hair, maybe he could go to the roof... Although that was just asking for the wrath of Bobby.
“Nonsense, you logged your flight hours for the month.”
“Yeah, but that was the first time since… well..”
“You logged all the flight hours allowed by your care team when doing physical therapy for the crush, and you are off blood thinners now. Even though they may still be in your system, you are a certified EMT who has training in multiple ways to quickly and efficiently stop the bleeding. There will definitely be some waivers you will need to sign, but we both know you’ve flown with worse.”
“But…”
“I need you, Evan.” Buck snapped his mouth shut. It had been a long time since he was needed. (It had been a long time since he was wanted.) “Yes, your flight skills are an asset, but this is going to be a very high-profile, classified mission that needs to be flown by the best and taught by the best, and I can’t be there to help smooth the tempers of stubborn aviators. While I do greatly admire Admiral Simpson, I worry he does not have the mindset that will see this through with the best outcome.”
“Okay,” Buck sighed, defeated. “Is there anything you can tell me?”
“Not much over an unsecured line, but let’s say it’s looking to be a bit of a family reunion.”
“What?”
“If you get to town by Friday morning, I can tell you more, but I have to fly out that evening to Pearl.”
“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”
“I love you, kiddo; see you soon.” Ice hung up the phone before Buck could reply. He leaned forward on the counter, bracing his forearms on the surface he had just cleaned.
Fuck.
He thought he was done with the Navy. Sure, he still had to show up to base once a month when medically able as part of the reserves, but he thought that after his last mission, after his squad's burnout, he was done. It was only going over his options with Ice that convinced him not to turn in his wings completely, and that it would be better in the long run to transfer to the reserves. Ice had promised him that he could finish out in the reserves unless Buck changed his mind or Ice absolutely needed him, so to pull him now…
Fuck.
“Are you okay, Buck? That seemed like some phone call.” Buck looked up to see that Hen had abandoned the game and had wandered over to him.
“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” He told her, scrubbing his hand over his face, which probably did nothing to convince her that it was, in fact, fine.
“Are you sure?” The others had wandered over as well. Trying and failing to look like they weren’t eavesdropping. Eddie was looking at him with that stone-faced anger that had become oh so familiar since the investigation into the 118 that he had instigated in his attempt to get his job back. Chimney looked on curiously, ever the gossip. And Bobby… Well, Bobby was looking at him with what he had taken to call his cold, captain look. It was the look he used when at big scenes or when giving interviews. It was remarkably similar to his Pop’s Iceman look. Buck was about to respond when they were interrupted.
“Lt. Buckley, sir!” The ensign that Ice had warned him about was at the top of the stairs, saluting.
“At ease, Ensign.” He said, snapping into his “officer persona” as Coteye had dubbed it. “I believe you have something for me.”
“Sir!” the ensign said, marching over and handing him a manila folder.
“Thank you. Dismissed.” The ensign saluted once more before making an about-face and exiting the loft.
“What the hell was that?”
“Who was that?”
“What is going on?”
Buck ignored them as he opened the folder and shuffled through the papers. It looked like Ice had provided multiple copies of everything, which made his life significantly easier. He started reorganizing them into a system that would make it easier to get his affairs in order. He needed some sticky notes and maybe a clipboard.
“Buck?” Bobby’s single word cut through the multitude of other questions.
“Oh, are you guys done talking at me?” He asked, looking up from his papers. Hen and Chim flinched at his words. “But to answer some of your questions, that was Ensign Rodriguez, at least according to his uniform. He was dropping off my deployment paperwork, which is also what the phone call was about. Speaking of, Captain, this is for you.” He said, handing over a portion of the papers. “I will need to take most of these over to HQ, and you will get the more detailed, official LAFD paperwork from HR at a later date.” He starts putting the cleaning supplies away while steadfastly trying to avoid looking at those around him. “I’m going to go ahead and clean out my locker today. I might be able to swing working my twelve-hour shift tomorrow, especially since I’m man behind, but I’ll talk to the chief about getting a float in until you can hire a new guy.”
He finally built up the nerve to look up at his team, only to see the shocked and stunned looks on everyone's faces. Bobby was frantically flipping through the papers Buck had given him, and Eddie was clenching and unclenching his fists.
“What do you mean you’re being deployed?” Chimney asked.
“Exactly as I said, Chimney,” Buck said, rolling his eyes, “The Navy says I have to go, so I’m going because I am not ending up in Navy jail and losing my pension.”
“I didn’t know you were in the Navy.” Hen pried. Motherfucker, Buck could not deal with this right now. He had enough shit going on without dealing with his team. Former team. Whatever. His thinning patience was going to snap sooner rather than later at this rate.
“Yeah, well, you also didn’t know I had a sister until she broke into my apartment. I’m a pretty private person.”
“We literally knew every detail of your sex life for like sixteen months!”
“Yeah, but that’s just sex, not like anything personal and important.”
“Buck…” Hen started voice softening with concern before he interrupted her.
“I know. I know. It wasn’t healthy and was probably an externalization of my internal cry for help after several very big life changes. Luckily, someone did actually notice the cry for help and got me hooked up and working on it with a therapist.” Buck shrugged, but continued before anyone shot off some smart ass comment about his past therapist experiences. “Now if we’re done with the Spanish Inquisition, I’ve got stuff to do and I’m getting whiplash from having an actual conversation with any of you for the first time in months.” And with that, Buck bounded down the stairs to the locker rooms and within five minutes, he exited the fire station with a full duffle bag and small pep in his step. He barely even noticed the stares of his soon-to-be former teammates.