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I see Your inner World, and Not Only Literally

Summary:

There was a heavy sigh from the other side of the phone line. Whoever this woman was, she seemed to be struggling between following protocol and just saying everything here and now.

“My name is Dr. Grey” after a few moments, she introduced herself, “I'm calling from Grey-Sloa...”, she cleared her throat, “I'm sorry. From LA General, since you are an emergency contact of Mr. Evan Buckley. Can you confirm this?” she said, obviously deciding to follow protocol.

or

The consequences of the bombing were much more serious for Buck. He was already almost desperate, but the universe decided to throw another serious test, washing away half of the city with streams of water. But, as strange as it may sound, it turned out to be a ray of hope.

Chapter 1: John Doe

Notes:

Greetings! Thank you for being interested in this fic. It's going to be a really big series,

I admit that the first chapter may mislead you a little, so I'll explain, this fic is primarily about the characters 9-1-1, and I'm trying to organically weave different elements of Grey's Anatomy and show interesting developments and character interaction. You don't have to be familiar with Grey's anatomy, but without understanding canon 9-1-1, there may be a lot you don't understand.

The first chapter is really watery, and its tone is slightly different from the rest.

I express my great gratitude to the beta reader of this chapter, @Yasmania. Thank you for your invaluable help in correcting errors!

 

I wish you a pleasant reading!

*John Doe (masculine) and Jane Doe (feminine) are multiple-use placeholder names that are used in the United States and the United Kingdom when the true name of a person is unknown or is being intentionally concealed

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The cool, moisture-laden air filled his lungs, leaving a slight salty taste on his lips. The sun has already sunk below the horizon and to everyone's surprise, a lot of stars appeared in the absolutely clear sky, frozen in their serenity as a touching reminder from nature that it always remains beautiful despite its crushing power.

The normally bustling and vibrant coastal area of Los Angeles was covered in silence and darkness today. It seemed that even the birds had left these places. Sometimes the distant, muffled sounds of heavy machinery at work intruded into this silence. Or the shrill sound of sirens cut through the space, flashing lights illuminating the facades of houses immersed in darkness with flashes of red and blue colors. However, they disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

The warm light of a street lamp instills a slight sense of comfort, dissecting a dark, damp, deserted space. Another light gust of wind causes paper napkins and old leaves scattered on the asphalt to roll to a new place with a slight rustle.

Meredith adjusted the hem of her disposable medical gown, which was being blown away by the wind. Slightly lost in thought, enjoying a minute's break from everything that was happening behind her in the emergency department of the hospital, she did not even notice her colleague who came out of the hospital building and was heading towards her.

“They report that the field hospital has started work,” Hunt said, continuing to tie a disposable robe behind his back.

“Owen!” trembling a little from the sudden intrusion, Grey exclaimed, “You can't scare people like that!” she said, returning her gaze back to the darkness where the road went.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude like that,” Hunt hastened to apologize, adjusting silicone gloves, “Crazy business trip, huh?” he tried to ease the tension by standing next to a colleague.

Meredith giggled nervously, “I don't envy the organizers of the conference next year,” she said, “It's hard to come up with something that will surpass a tsunami.”

Hunt smiled slightly, the corners of his lips curving upwards, “On the other hand, the crowd of doctors from all over the country clearly proved useful,” he added.

Grey only nodded and continued to stare into the distance, waiting for the ambulance to arrive soon. The crescent moon had just risen above the roofs of the surrounding buildings, slightly illuminating the dark space around, but at the same time filling it with a feeling of cold.

It was an annual conference where the best doctors from all over the country were invited. Sunny Los Angeles, what could go wrong? Of course, literally after the second report, they received news about the tidal wave. It seemed to Meredith that she had already seen a lot over the years of her work, but the universe is always ready to remind her not to relax.

The rest of the day merges into one continuous nightmare: multiple victims of drowning, fractures, internal bleeding, operation after operation in a desperate attempt to do everything in your power. But with each subsequent hour, the shelves of hospital morgues are only replenished. Increasingly, doctors have to tear off the red label "Immediate" on the tags for triage, leaving, it seems, a piece of their soul with each of them.

The opening of the field hospital reduced the burden on nearby hospitals, which were already overcrowded. But the most terrifying thing is that after so much time, there are fewer and fewer people who still have a chance of salvation.

Such mass disasters are always a race against time. And everyone who accepts this desperate challenge enters this race with a full understanding of their imminent defeat. The goal is to do everything in your power to help the greatest number of victims, they tell all interns at the first lesson of triage.

But no one ever says how devastating it can be. How much it squeezes you out, like an industrial juicer, leaving only an empty shell thrown somewhere aside as collateral waste.

Fatigue makes her limbs feel like gelatin. Meredith, if you ask her, is unlikely to be able to answer how she is still standing on her feet and ready to continue working. Most likely, no matter how cynical it sounds, you get used to everything. Years of practice will teach you not to keep it all to yourself, teach you to detach and allow you to do your job better. After all, it's just a job.

And now they are waiting for an emergency patient, which they should not even have received, since the emergency department was closed a few hours ago. But finally, the slowly rising sound of a siren announced the imminent arrival of the victim, bringing Dr. Grey back to reality.

“What do we know?” Owen asked in a much firmer voice than before, also hearing the ambulance approaching

“A little bit” Meredith replied regretfully, and taking a deep breath, “Suspicion of profuse internal bleeding, fractures, head injury”

The siren was getting louder, gradually washing away with its impetuosity all the serenity that reigned around a second ago.

“They think an operation is required” Grey continued, adjusting the protective equipment, “There are no available surgeons in Southern California, the victim was sent to us.”

“They think?” Hunt was a little indignant, but did not have time to get an answer.

A red LAFD ambulance burst into the parking lot in front of the emergency department, illuminating everything with shades of red and blue, finally destroying the fleeting silence and tranquility. The car came to a screeching stop near the door, forcing Doctors Grey and Hunt to take a step back so as not to accidentally get under the wheels.

“Do they always drive like this here?” Owen muttered to himself before he and Meredith rushed to the ambulance doors, which had already slammed open.

“John Doe, about 25-30 years old” A woman's voice rang out even before the doctors had time to take the gurney with the victim, “Extracted from the rubble about 10 minutes ago, 7 points on the Glasgow coma scale, it is unknown how long he was there,” the paramedic continued, pulling out the gurney together with his partner.

Meredith immediately approached the victim to conduct an initial examination. She had seen a lot both in her career and today, but something made her involuntarily shudder. The entire left side of the young man's face was covered with scratches, as if he had been dragged along the asphalt. The nose is probably broken, which is noticeable even under the oxygen mask. Copious amounts of blood soaked the hastily laid bandage on his head. Probably, initially, the blond hair was more like a mess, covered with salt, dirt and blood.

While the second paramedic, a short man in a LAFD uniform, was holding a bag of liquid in his hand, which was drip-fed through a catheter into the victim's forearm, they began to push the gurney to the entrance, the female paramedic continued: “Tachycardia, pressure 100 to 60 and falling”

The sliding doors creaked open, and a cacophony of sounds from the crowded emergency room immediately poured out on the group. A lot of people with minor injuries were waiting on the benches. All the available beds are full, nurses were constantly moving between the beds with supplies. Periodic, louder shouts of doctors' commands broke through the general noise. Despite the seeming chaos, by the current moment, reception and work with the victims were mostly established, so that everyone worked at a difficult, tense, but organized pace.

“We're taking him to trauma one!” Hunt shouted, pointing with his right hand in the direction, and holding on to the gurney with his left hand, helping to move it.

“Most likely, a concussion. Internal bleeding. There are broken ribs, we do not rule out a punctured lung,” the paramedic continued, already pushing the gurney into the room. “There are no signs of crush syndrome, but...”

“We got it” Owen interrupted her as they stopped the gurney next to the treatment table. “On the count of three!”

Several nurses ran into the room and began to prepare tools.

“Three!” a loud command rang out and the victim was moved, accompanied by tense sighs. The young man clearly turned out to be heavier than he initially seemed.

“Thank you, we'll do it ourselves,” Meredith said, standing at the patient's head.

Paramedics only nodded their heads in the affirmative and hurried to clear the room. They shouldn't have come here anyway, but the adrenaline and fatigue from the past day made them forget about it in an attempt to convey as much information as possible in the shortest possible time. And despite the nurses' strange looks, the doctors didn't seem to mind.

“Take the blood and send it for analysis,”  Hunt commanded. “We need two bags of blood at once, as soon as we determine the blood type!”

Meredith took out a pocket flashlight and carefully, with her fingers, parted the victim's eyelids to check the reaction of the pupils. “The right pupil reacts normally,” she said aloud. When trying to repeat the procedure with her left eye, she froze for a second as soon as she opened her eyelids.

The white of the eye was filled with blood, giving it an incredibly rich scarlet color. A thin, sky-blue stripe of the iris of the eye was pushed away by an overly large pupil. It was unnaturally mesmerizing in its terrifying nature. Grey shook off this slight feeling of goosebumps, “Page someone from neuro!” she shouted. “The pupil is dilated and does not react.” she said, continuing the examination with a flashlight, “Order a CT scan!”

“Possibly a subdural hematoma,” Owen confirmed her thoughts as he cut the victim's clothes during a visual examination. “The left collarbone is broken,” he will say, feeling the unnaturally protruding bone. He hissed slightly through his teeth, “This is bad, we need...”

The nurses had just finished installing all the sensors and the sound of a heart monitor filled the room. The heart is too fast. The blood pressure is too low. Saturation drops, although the victim receives pure oxygen. Breathing is paradoxical.

“Already” Meredith continued the colleague's thought, going around the table and standing to the right of the victim, abundantly applied ultrasound gel to his chest. She picked up the probe of the F.A.S.T. ultrasound machine.

“What do we have?” The neurosurgeon asked as he entered the room, putting on gloves as he walked. His voice was soft and steeped in fatigue, like everyone else here. It was a tall man, one of the local doctors, Owen and Meredith didn't even know his name, and it didn't matter right now. Right behind him, a nurse burst into the room with two bags of blood and hurried to hang them up and start transfusions.

“The left pupil is dilated and unresponsive” Grey began to answer, without taking her eyes off the monitor and leading the ultrasound probe over the victim's chest, “Head injury on the left side, 7, or even 6 points of coma on the Glasgow scale”

The neurosurgeon nodded affirmatively and without further questions began to examine the victim, standing up from the side of the head.

Hunt continued the visual examination for injuries, being to the left of the patient, “The second, third ribs are broken,” he stated, running his fingers over the chest, “The seventh, eighth, too,” he finished, releasing air from his lungs.

“A small accumulation of fluid in the pericardium,” Meredith voiced, carefully, frowning slightly, looking at the monitor. “It doesn't look critical, most likely there will be no complications,” she said, transferring the ultrasound probe to a new point.

“There are no visible injuries on the left hand” Hunt said after finishing with the named limb, “But there are multiple injection marks,” he said with a slight gasp.

This caused Meredith to get goosebumps and glance at the face of the young man lying on the table in front of them. The neurosurgeon was just checking the reaction of the eyes again, and looking into those, though not focused, but deep and incredibly expressive, blue eyes, she did not allow herself to accept the idea of banned substances. There are a thousand other possible explanations. But, something on the monitor made her abruptly break out of her thoughts.

“Copious amount of fluid in the pleural cavity on the left,” she announced and pushed the device slightly to the side, and putting on a stethoscope, began auscultation of the chest. “Left-sided hemothorax” She stated, having received confirmation in the form of weakened breathing on the left. “Prepare a thoracostomy kit!” Grey commanded.

Hunt, since he was on the left side, took an antiseptic from the nurse's hands and quickly treated the incision site, “Scalpel!” He voiced his wish, and a second later accepted the desired instrument from the nurse's hands.

Meredith, meanwhile, continued to conduct F.A.S.T. “A lot of fluid in the abdominal cavity,” she said. “We are stabilizing him and preparing him for surgery.”

Owen made an incision and with a little effort installed the tube, which immediately filled with blood.

“We will do the operation at the same time, trepanation is required.” The neurosurgeon intervened, having finished with the examination, “We will use OR 3, I'll be waiting for you there as soon as you send the patient to CT,” he finished, taking off gloves and a disposable robe.

After receiving confirmation from Meredith, he left the room and went to prepare for the operation.

The blood continued to flow down the thoracostomy tube, causing Hunt to frown a little when he secured it, since there was no inhalation. “We have to intubate now”

Grey pushed the ultrasound machine aside. The nurse took it and returned it back to the wall, at the same time starting to prepare the endotracheal tube. Meredith quickly picked up a laryngoscope from the table of instruments and a second later slightly raised the victim's head, conducting an examination of the respiratory tract.

“The tube” she commanded, holding out her free hand, not taking her eyes off the laryngoscope, visualizing the glottis. Feeling the desired object in her hand, she quickly removed the tube from the package and with little resistance installed it in the victim's trachea.

She was grateful to everyone who hears her now that the sea water did not cause serious swelling of the respiratory tract. Although it was to be expected that if the victim inhaled salt water, he, on the contrary, would suffer from dehydration. But cases of drowning on land are far from isolated. She quickly glanced at the transparent infusion bag that hung next to the blood bag and, after making sure again that the paramedics had put a hypotonic solution, uttered the following command: “Remove the guide.”

The nurse removed the metal guide from the endotracheal tube in one motion, which allowed Meredith to finish intubation by passing through the glottis. Another nurse immediately inflated the cuff with a syringe.

“Dr. Hunt!” Meredith called as she secured the Ambu bag to the tube

Owen immediately understood what was being asked of him, and having finished fixing the thoracostomy tube and taking a stethoscope from his neck, inserted it into his ears. Four quick movements during auscultation and one affirmative nod of the head, that's all it took Dr. Grey to start actively squeezing the Ambu bag in his hands.

“Preoxygenation before switching to a ventilator,” she announced her actions, which was important because they were not working in their hospital, they were working with strangers. But the nurse had already set up the ventilator and handed Meredith the tube. Quickly disconnecting the bag, she snapped the tube of the device at the end of the endotracheal tube and secured the entire structure with bandages, wrapping them around and through the back of the head.

Everyone froze for a few seconds, carefully examining the readings on the monitor. After a second, the oxygen saturation figures crept up. The ventilator actively helped the victim to breathe, but blood pressure continued to fall.

“He's stable so far,” Hunt stated. “Prepare him for transportation to CT,” he gave the command to the nurses. They confirmed that they understood, and began to hang all the necessary equipment on the medical bed.

“Dr. Grey, look here.” Owen called cautiously, drawing Meredith's attention. He was just cutting his pant leg, finishing the inspection.

The whole leg was covered with deep, longitudinal scars from the ankle to the knee, where they were interrupted. Several symmetrical scars around the knee joint, burn marks and healed, deep, tears on the skin. And although they were pink, it was obvious that these were older scars that did not relate to current injuries. Although against the background of pathologically pale, from blood loss and exhaustion, they seemed scarier to the skin than they really are.

“Wow,” Grey said very quietly, in amazement, “The operation was probably one and a half to two months ago.”

Owen only nodded slowly after hearing the confirmation of his own judgment. Anyway, it's not something they need to focus on right now.

“We're ready,” one of the nurses said, lifting the sides of the bed.

“Take him to CT, then to the third operating room,” Hunt ordered.

 


 

After a few minutes, they literally burst into the preoperative room, having already removed the old disposable protective equipment on the way.

“The victim did not regain consciousness?” Immediately, there was a question from a neurosurgeon with whom they had met earlier. He was finishing scrubbing in for surgery, turning off the water with his elbow.

“No,” Meredith answered with a small exhalation, tucking the fallen strands of hair under a surgical cap with ferries. 

The neurosurgeon frowned, but said nothing. He raised his hands so as to keep his palms at the level of his face and turned to face his colleagues. “I'm Dr. Colt, by the way,” he introduced himself. “It's a pity that we met under such circumstances, Dr. Grey,” he said, with sincere regret in his voice, “But it's an honor for me to operate with you.”

Dr. Colt smiled, which was noticeable despite the surgical mask on his face, and without lowering his hands, prepared to open the door to the operating room with his back. “I would shake your hand, but...” he said, shrugging his shoulders a little, slightly indicating that he was already prepared for the operation.

“It's okay,” Meredith replied, putting on a medical mask over her modest smile, “We'll shake hands when we save our patient,” she finished and turned on the water.

“Absolutely” Dr. Colt agreed and abruptly opened the doors behind him, going out into the operating room.

“See, like I was saying,” Owen said, lathering his hands and smiling broadly, “You're a celebrity.”

Meredith giggled in response, carefully watching the preparations in the operating room through the glass window, where the victim had already been taken and the anesthesiologist had arrived. Surgical nurses were preparing the operating field. “I'm just doing my job,” she finally waved it off.

“It's not nothing, Meredith,” Hunt said with a deep sigh, continuing to rub his hands “I will never stop saying how grateful I am to you for what you did for Megan.”

“Owen,” Grey interrupted him, slamming the faucet with her elbow. “Let's go. They're already starting,” she said, taking advantage of the situation to avoid continuing the conversation.

Hunt only grinned slightly and, also turning off the water, followed her.

The pungent smell of antiseptics and latex immediately hit the olfactory receptors. Oddly enough, this is exactly what helps Meredith relax the best right now. The monotonous sound of equipment, bright directional light, walls lined with turquoise tiles. The feeling of tight, latex gloves on the fingertips, dressed with the help of nurses. Then a robe, and another pair of gloves. Take a few steps to the operating table, and…

“It seems like today is a great day to save a life.” Softly, almost in a whisper, she says, like a prayer.

Take a deep breath. The world outside these walls no longer exists. All the oppressive heaviness, fatigue, desires, a tsunami and an overcrowded emergency room remain on the other side of the doors.

“Trocar and laparoscope on 8,” Dr. Grey said.

“Have you decided to perform the operation laparoscopically? Owen clarified, standing on the other side of the table, opposite.

“Yes,” Meredith replied, pointing to the scans located on the stand to her left. “A relatively small rupture of the spleen, we can close it. In which case we will perform an emergency splenectomy” She explained, “Although, I am confused by the abundance of liquid around”

“You really care about the patients, Dr. Grey,” Dr. Colt intervened, already removing a flap of skin from the victim's head to gain access for trepanation.

And if you had asked Meredith, she would never have admitted that she was really sorry that they had to shave off those blond, albeit mud-covered, curls from a young man's head.

“I wouldn't want to add more scars,” Grey admitted, responding to a colleague's remark, “He's already been through a lot,” she added, in a slightly quieter voice.

Dr. Colt took a deep breath, taking the surgical drill from the nurse's hands, “It's true,” he agreed. “Although most local doctors would choose the classic method,” Colt added as the room filled with the sounds of a drill drilling into the skull.

Meanwhile, Meredith has already installed a laparoscope and an illuminator. Hunt also installed an insufflator aspirator in the incisions made. The endoscope monitor was working, but all they could see was blood filling the entire view.

“More suction,” Dr. Grey calmly gave the command. “There is a possibility that we will have to open direct access, but it is always better to try to do everything to minimize the negative consequences for the patient, if possible”

The heart monitor made two loud sounds, signaling a change in parameters. “BP is falling,” one of the nurses said.

“Prepare two more bags of blood” Hunt reacted by maneuvering the instruments, helping Meredith gain access to the spleen.

Dr. Colt finished working with the drill and handed it to the assistant, “It's a pity that the conference didn't take place. I've been looking forward to your report,” he said, taking the forceps from the nurse's hands.

Meredith, however, did not react in any way, as she tried to focus on finding the place of the rupture on the operating field. “More suction,” she said, and the sound of the aspirator soon intensified, drawing more and more blood through the transparent tubes.

Something inside her told her that something was wrong. There shouldn't be so much blood. All her instincts were screaming at her that they had missed something. Nevertheless, “Don't worry, I'll post this report as soon as I get back to Seattle,” she answered Dr. Colt's question, continuing to stare intently at the endoscope monitor.

The monitor made a couple of alarm sounds again, signaling a drop in blood pressure.

“Dr. Grey,” Hunt said, but Meredith interrupted him, “I see. Give me a second.”

Colt, meanwhile, removed part of the skull and put it in a specially prepared tray. But as soon as he returned his gaze to the operating field, he froze for a second.

“Stop!” He shouted, causing everyone in the operating room to freeze, “Stop manipulating” He then carefully examined the hematoma that had accumulated under the dura mater, while the eyes of his colleagues were riveted on him, “Move these scans closer,” he finally ordered, pointing to the stand.

While the nurses were following the instructions, “What happened?” Meredith asked, assuming Dr. Colt had discovered something that would confirm her strange sense of anxiety.

“The hematoma is bigger than on the scans,” the neurosurgeon announced a second later. “Are we sure we didn't mix up the scans? The blood should have stopped, too much time has passed,” with a slight note of anxiety in his head, Dr. Colt continued to reflect.

“Bring a blood test, stat!” Dr. Gray commanded, taking out laparoscopic instruments. “Prepare the operating field for an open operation”

“Meredith,” Hunt interrupted, but she didn't let him say anything more: “Leg, Owen. We missed it,” Grey said in a firm voice.

“What do you mean?” Colt asked in slight confusion, but nevertheless, he again began to expand the surgical field with a drill in order to visualize the subdural hematoma as a whole.

Hunt, however, seems to have understood what his colleague meant. “Prepare a portable X-ray!” he commanded.

“But it's not sterile,” one of the nurses protested

“So make it sterile, damn it!” Meredith objected, her voice loud enough. “Where is the blood test?” she asked menacingly, picking up a scalpel and starting the incision.

“If he has bone support equipment installed,” Hunt began to explain to Dr. Colt, “There is a chance that the patient is taking anticoagulants to prevent blood clots,” he said, taking a dilator from a nurse and helping Meredith open the patient's abdominal cavity.

“Damn” Dr. Colt muttered to himself, “And the fact that he inhaled salt water only caused the liquid to come out of the tissues additionally, making the blood even more liquid.”

“Exactly,” Meredith confirmed, dissecting the peritoneum. Blood immediately leaked out of the incision, “I need a suction here,” she said, and the nurse immediately installed an aspirator to clear the field of blood. “Where is the X-ray, where is the blood test?!” she was indignant, continuing to excise the flesh to get to the place of rupture of blood vessels.

The heart monitor made several alarm sounds again. By opening access to the abdominal cavity, they free it from blood, the pressure of which prevented new blood from leaving the vessels. This causes a further drop in blood pressure.

“There's no time to wait for confirmation, we have to inject the coagulants now,” Owen insisted.

“Enter this dilate, now,” Grey commanded, apparently agreeing with her colleague. “Stop preparing the X-ray machine” Any risk of blood clots is trumped by the fact that the patient is bleeding on their operating table right now, they still don't know the exact drug he is using and won't be able to pick up an antagonist fast enough to do everything safely.

“Fuck!” Meredith suddenly shouted, continuing active manipulations in the operating field, “Hunt! The heart!”

As if hearing her, the heart monitor at this moment begins to make loud noises, signaling a serious increase in heart rate with a continuing drop in blood pressure.

“I'll do it!” Owen confirmed and handed the instruments to the surgical nurse, hurried around the table to be on the left side of the victim, next to Meredith. “I need a needle to puncture the pericardium, stat!”

Dr. Colt, meanwhile, concentrating entirely on his work, trusting Doctors Grey and Hunt to do their job, excised the dura mater and evacuated the hematoma. If you asked, he would say that this is the biggest one he has met in his entire career. “Damn it!” he swore under his breath when the bleeding opened, “Coagulator!” he ordered and, having received the desired tool in his hands, he began carefully cauterizing the damaged vessels over the arachnoid membrane of the brain.

Hunt successfully inserts a needle into the victim's chest and pumps out the blood that has accumulated around the heart and prevents it from beating. The heart monitor confirmed the normalization of the heart rate, but the pressure continued to drop.

“The blood test is here!” Suddenly, the voice of a young guy, a nurse, entering the operating room was heard.

“Show me,” Hunt commanded, returning to his seat on the right side of the patient. The injected coagulants will not allow the repeated development of tamponade.

“More fucking suction!” Meredith insisted in a firm, confident voice. The surgical field was flooded with blood and she could not localize the damaged area. She added swab after swab, hoping that while they would absorb the blood, she would be able to close the gap

The heart monitor began to sound an alarm again, but this time it did not stop.

“BP is critical,” the nurse said.

“Add more bags of blood,” Dr. Grey commanded, “Come on!” she spoke more for herself.

The blood soaked the tampons too fast, the aspirator works too slowly, she can't find the gap. Damn it, they should have discovered this sooner. And no long shifts and stress can be an excuse. They are called the best doctors. What kind of surgeons are they, if they didn't even check the clotting factor before the operation?

“Dr. Grey!” the nurse called, commenting on the further drop in the patient's blood pressure.

But Meredith ignored her. She has to do it.

A light copper taste on the tip of the tongue from the abundance of blood around. The smell of a working coagulator invades the olfactory receptors in a disgusting mixture of burnt flesh and antiseptics. A steady, alarming beep of the heart monitor.

Deep breath

She feels her own heartbeat. Adrenaline is bubbling under the skin.

Trust your instincts

 

“Clamp!” she shouts sharply.

 

A fraction of a second later, the required tool is in her hands.

Cool metal is felt even through gloves. Feel its weight.

Another deep breath

The clamp plunges into the surgical field, in the space between the muscles, flooded with blood.

Click!

Everyone froze, turning their gaze to the heart monitor. Everything seemed to freeze in an incredibly viscous molasses, as if time itself stretched, turning every second into a century. Everyone's attention is now focused on the two flashing red numbers on the heart monitor.

A collective sigh of relief reminded the space when the numbers slowly but crept up after a few seconds.

All tension abruptly left the room and the nurse gently moistened Meredith's forehead with a soft swab, removing droplets of sweat.

“That was brilliant, Dr. Grey,” commented the neurosurgeon, just finished with the bleeding, preparing to repair the dura mater. “I would applaud, but I'm performing an open brain operation.”

Maybe it's all the adrenaline, but it was really funny, making everyone, including Meredith, let out a laugh and smile.

“Okay, I'll take it,” Grey replied, taking advantage of a short break while the surgical field is finally cleared of excess blood, “How are you doing?”

“Everything is fine,” Dr. Colt quickly replied, “The prognosis is very positive. There is no swelling or damage under the arachnoid membrane of the brain”

“This is great news,” Hunt added, looking directly at Meredith, smiling brightly, which was clear from the eyes, despite the surgical mask.

 


After 2 hours

 

Exhausted, Meredith slid down the wall and sat on the floor right in the hospital corridor, pulling her knees up to her chest. The operation ended successfully, but as soon as she made the last stitch, all the postponed fatigue fell on her shoulders, depriving her of any opportunity and desire to continue this day. The magic of the operating room is over and you will have to cope on your own.

“Take this,” Hunt said softly, holding out a paper cup of coffee. “I'm sure you need it,” he finished with a slight smile on his face.

Well, he was exhausted too. Light bags under the eyes. Slightly reddened eyelids, which caused a feeling of sand in the eyes. Even the stubble on his face seems to have become longer.

But who is Meredith to refuse such an offer right now? She carefully pulled the surgical cap off her head and put it in her breast pocket. Straightening her hair, she accepted a cup of coffee with a slight smile, “Thank you,” she said softly.

Owen nodded slightly, and with a slight crack in his knees, gently lowered himself and settled down next to Grey. Leaning his back against the wall, he took a few sips of coffee from his cup, allowing them both to exist a little in this bubble that they created in the midst of the hospital bustle.

“Who do you think he is?” Meredith suddenly asked after taking a few sips of coffee, continuing to stare into the void in front of her, clearly lost in her own thoughts.

“Who? Our John Doe?” Hunt clarified, also keeping his gaze strictly in front of him

“Yes,” Grey confirmed, “Does he have a family? Is someone looking for him right now?”

Owen just took a deep breath, not knowing what to say to that. And, to be honest, Meredith herself was not really waiting for an answer to this question, rather just voicing her thoughts out loud. But, nevertheless, after a few seconds Hunt honestly replied: “I do not know,” he took a few more sips of coffee, “Maybe he's an actor? Or a football player. Looks strong.”

Meredith giggled a little, “Owen. Not every handsome guy in Los Angeles is an actor or a football player,” she said with a smile on her face, shifting her gaze to her friend and colleague next to her.

Hunt only giggled in response, “I'm a surgeon, Mer, not a psychic,” he said, taking a deep breath, “We did a postoperative CT scan,” he unexpectedly added a second later.

Grey immediately frowned. There was still a chance they were wrong about the equipment in the leg. And although the blood test confirmed that the clotting factor was very low, this could be explained by exhaustion and inhalation of seawater. Owen, however, did not wait for questions and continued: “We were right,” he said, allowing Meredith to release the remnants of tension along with the air from her lungs. “But this is a mess,” he continued, frowning slightly. “Pins in both tibia, in the distal part of the femur, multiple healed fractures. Probably, there was a complete crushing.”

“It's terrible,” Meredith said softly, and Owen was inclined to agree with her on that. “I can't even imagine how his doctors were able to put it all together,” he continued the thought. “More nerve damage. This guy is probably suffering from terrible pains.” He lowered his head thoughtfully, and more quietly, continued, “This probably explains the injection marks.”

“No,” Dr. Grey abruptly interrupted this thought, “We have no right to make such assumptions.” She put a paper cup of coffee on the floor next to her. “He probably had a bunch of surgeries in a short period of time.”

“Yes, you're right, I'm sorry,” Hunt agreed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I shouldn't have...”

“It's okay, forget it, we're all exhausted,” Meredith interrupted again. “Just… How old is he? No one should go through something like this,” she said softly, picking up the coffee again and taking a few sips.

Her colleague and friend next to her smiled a little sadly. “You know.” Trying to speak as quietly as possible, he continued, “It feels like you know exactly what it's like.”

“We,” Grey quickly corrected him, “We know what it's like, Owen. We've all been through a lot in recent years.”

“And I missed half of it,” he tried to justify himself.

“You were in the war ,” Meredith added.

Well, it's really hard to argue with this kind of reasoning . Owen just took a deep breath, leaving them both in silence.

“You're right,” he said after a second. “But it won't be about that. Let's go rest while we have the opportunity,” Hunt continued, slowly getting up, leaning against the wall and frowning a little, from the pains that arose from sitting in an uncomfortable position. He held out his hand to his friend, offering to help her get up.

Meredith smiled gently and gladly accepted the help getting to her feet. “I agree. Let's get some rest,” she said.

 


A few more hours later

 

A bright crescent moon has already risen high in the sky. A light wind penetrated into the ward through the slightly open window. The lights were dimmed and only a slight buzzing of medical equipment broke the silence.

Dr. Grey carefully pushed back the glass door and went inside. “Dr. Colt, how is our patient?” she asked almost in a whisper when she saw a colleague next to the hospital bed.

Colt turned slowly toward the entrance, smiling softly. The light of the tablet he was holding in his hands finally allowed Meredith to take a closer look at his face, without any masks and other surgical equipment, despite the slight dimness in the ward.

The man's face had strict features and a large, strong lower jaw, which was only emphasized by the low light. His lightly golden, tanned skin glistened slightly, confirming that the past day had been just as hard for him. The green eyes sparkled, reflecting the tablet screen in the pupils. Light curls of dark hair occasionally peeked out from under a surgical cap.

“Everything is fine,” the doctor answered in the same quiet, soft voice. “Since there is no edema, we decided not to maintain an additional medically induced coma,” he explained, while Meredith came closer to look at the notes on the tablet. 

“Breathing independently, responding to therapy. We are waiting until he wakes up to assess the degree of neurological disorders.” He paused a little, looking at the young guy, “But I believe that everything will be fine. He underwent the operation surprisingly well.”

“Shall we call it a medical miracle?” Dr. Grey tried to joke, continuing to study the available records. The dashes in almost every field looked very.. sad.

Colt only smiled slightly, “Rather, a young, persistent organism,” he said. “And a little professional skill from the best doctors.”

“I feel like I have no right to argue with this?” not without a bit of humor, Meredith noted.

"Nope,” said the neurosurgeon playfully. “Better look here,” he continued a little mysteriously, inviting his colleague to take a closer look at the patient's face. “I noticed it in the operating room, but now it has become even more noticeable,” he continued, pointing to the area around the eyebrow of a young man on a hospital bed.

Dr. Grey frowned slightly and turned on the flashlight to get a better look at what her colleague was talking about.

Indeed, there was a birthmark, which used to be almost invisible against the background of all the scratches and blood. Now, when, in addition to everything else, the skin color has become much closer to natural, it has become very noticeable.

“I thought it would help identify him and quickly find relatives,” Dr. Colt explained. "I also described all the notable tattoos"

“That's right,” Meredith agreed, continuing to examine the intricate mark above the patient's eye

The sound of a notification on the neurosurgeon's phone distracted them both. The man looked at the message and, frowning slightly, said: “I am being called to another patient. Can you stay here?”

“Of course,” Grey replied, putting the flashlight in the breast pocket of her coat.

“Great. Thank you,” Colt said and headed to the exit, carefully pushed aside, and then also carefully closed the door behind him.

For some time, Meredith continued to study the known information about the patient on the tablet. She examined the scans in more detail, enjoying another minute of calm. A slight turbidity in her eyes after a recent dream still slightly tormented her. Sooner or later, she will have to give the body the full sleep it requires. But these are Dr. Grey's problems from the future.

Suddenly something alerted her. The heart monitor, which used to make exclusively monotonous sounds, counting every heartbeat, seems to have changed its pace. The doctor looked up from the tablet and focused her gaze on the monitor, coming closer to the patient.

She was right. The pace was increasing with every second. “Sir, can you hear me?” not very loudly, she said, putting the tablet aside and taking out a flashlight from her breast pocket.

In response, there was only an inarticulate moan. The patient jerked his head slightly, and his eyelids fluttered.

“Sir, can you open your eyes for me?” in the softest possible voice, Meredith repeated again, shifting her gaze between the heart monitor, checking all the indicators, and the young man's face, monitoring the reaction.

Suddenly his eyelids flew open. Meredith could track the exact moment when a distracted, frightened look filled with pain focused on her. The left eye remained the same red, although the pupil was already normal and reacted, as the doctor was able to make sure by pointing a flashlight at it, despite all the patient's protests in the form of incomprehensible muttering. Now, in the semi-darkened hospital room, the blue iris looked like a real sapphire, brightly shimmering in the glare from the flashlight, surrounded by red blood, which only enhanced the effect.

“Sir, can you tell me your name?” Grey asked, having stopped torturing the poor guy with light in his eyes. .

The patient opened and closed his mouth several times, making a couple of indistinct sounds, until finally, “E.. Evan,” he said in a very quiet, hoarse voice, which made him cough slightly.

“Okay, Evan, you're doing great.” Meredith continued in the same quiet voice, “Can you squeeze my hands?” she said, putting her palms in his.

It was not immediately and not very strong, but it was. And most importantly, evenly on both sides. It couldn't help but make her exhale with relief.

The young guy, Evan, meanwhile, slowly scanned the space around until, unexpectedly, his eyes began to fill with moisture. The doctor immediately noticed this, she hurried to check the indicators and the rate of infusion of painkillers, “Evan, what happened? Are you in pain?”

In response, an unintelligible sob came from somewhere deep in his throat, making her heart seem to break completely under the weight of the whole past day. “Bah.. Buck,” the patient also said softly and hoarsely, swallowing and turning his head so as to look directly at Meredith: “Buckley,” he finally said.

“Is that your Last Name? Evan Buckley, right?” Grey clarified, immediately recording the information received.

Evan only nodded slightly in response, while a single tear rolled down his cheekbone onto the pillow. “Why?”“ he asked, a little more confident, but in the same quiet voice, "Why did you do that?” Buckley repeated, breaking down on the last word.

Tears actively began to flow down her cheeks. There were several more deep sobs. He wanted to rip all the tubes and wires out of his hands, but his limbs didn't seem to obey at all.

The rapid beeping of the heart monitor filled the space, attracting the attention of the nurse on duty, who was already entering the room while Meredith was desperately trying to pull herself together and be, damn it, a doctor. Situations like this shouldn't make her feel so terrible.

“Enough!” Evan tried to shout, but it turned out to be more like an intermittent exhalation.

Dr. Grey, noticing the confused nurse, was finally able to pull herself together: “Enter more painkillers, 10 units,” she commanded and hurried to take the young man by the hand.

“Everything will be fine,” she said softly, looking straight into infinitely deep, tear-filled blue eyes. “You need to rest a little more, we'll meet again soon. Everything will be fine,” she said, struggling to hold back her own tears.

 


 

Some time later, Meredith carefully examined the medical history of a certain Evan Buckley, finding solitude at the computer in the resident's office. Each new record made her heart stop more and more: A severe injury with a crushing less than 10 months ago. 4 operations over the next six months. Nerve damage, severe chronic pain. Pulmonary embolism less than five months ago. Another operation three months ago with a futile attempt to fix something, the prescribing of anticoagulants. And now.... Damn tsunami.

Meredith's whole life experience tells her not to worry about things that you can't fix. And that she won't be able to help everyone, but to hell with it all. It had been a disgusting day, and she'd be damned if she was going to sit back and watch it all. There are some things she can still do.

A few mouse clicks. “Send a copy“, "Confirm", enter.

Grey leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath, covering her face with her hands. A second later, her phone beeped, signaling a new message received.

Torres: 

You're kidding, right?

Me:

Have you received the message yet?

Torres:

I quit everything as soon as I realized what it was!

Me:

???

Torres:

I've seen these pictures dozens of times in recent months. Doctors from Los Angeles published their results, but the patient's data was always hidden. Don't tell me you accidentally bumped into him?

Torres:

Oh, God, I'm so sorry. How are you and Hunt? Is everyone okay, is everything okay?

Me: 

Just come to LA. Urgently.

Meredith put down her phone, ignoring the subsequent stream of messages. She and Torres can talk later, she has more important things to do now. She lightly massaged her eyes with the back of her hands in an attempt to banish fatigue and, when finished, returned her gaze to the monitor in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the landline phone and dialed the phone number listed in Evan's medical record.

Beep.

Another beep.

“Hello?”A tired, male voice rang out from the other side of the phone line as soon as the connection was established. 

Meredith could have sworn that she heard sirens and the sounds of heavy machinery in the background, which made her frown slightly, but in the end, she gathered herself and asked into the phone: “Edmundo Diaz?”

Notes:

Thank you for reading this far!

Feel free to share your opinion. Did you like it? Didn't you like it? Write to me about it and I will definitely listen!
If you feel that some tags have been missed, also let me know.

If something seemed too long to you, or there are too many medical terms, also feel free to point it out.

I also want to add that all my knowledge about the work of medical institutions in the United States is exclusively from TV series, so if you see gross mistakes, also write about it. This is very important to me as an author, and I will do everything to fix them.

Chapter 2: First Responder

Summary:

Eddie's storyline begins, and some facts from the past are revealed

Chapter Text

“Eddie.” Captain Nash's call sounded loud enough to be heard through the ambient sounds of working machinery and generators.

“No” was followed by the same loud and clear answer.

“You don't even know what I was going to say,” Bobby protested, carefully avoiding a pile of debris on the road.

“No,” Diaz repeated again, taking a deep breath, “You're going to say again that I should take a break,” he said, stopping his step.

They came to an intersection. The rather narrow street along which they had been following on foot for the last half hour, taking into account the need to carefully avoid the rubble of various debris, was interrupted. An open space that was once called a park appeared before their eyes. The ocean begins In just three hundred yards.

The sun was already peeking over the horizon behind them, reflecting from the multiple natural mirrors formed by the remnants of the water that had swept through here in a stormy stream a few hours ago. The air is still saturated with the smell of salt, spilled fuel and wet wood, causing Eddie a slight attack of nausea.

At least, he will say that this was the reason, if he still vomits. It would be a giant understatement if someone decided to call the last six hours the most terrible in his life. From the moment he discovered his son in the field hospital, everything around him is perceived in no other way than as a feverish nightmare. The already surreal picture of mass destruction around him was now complemented by the fact that his best friend turned out to be just a line in the endless lists of missing persons.

“We checked this area at the very beginning,” Bobby stated, not without regret, gently placing his hand on Eddie's shoulder

“We need to double-check everything now that the sun has risen,” Diaz replied, blinking actively in an attempt to get rid of the feeling of sand in his eyes and drive away tears.

The captain only sighed heavily in response, lightly squeezing the shoulder of his firefighter “Eddie. You're exhausted. We will not be able to help Buck if we cannot stand on our own feet,” he said after a few seconds of silence.

Eddie just snorted irritably, expressing dissatisfaction with the fact that he had heard this phrase for the fifteenth time that night. He took Bobby's hand off his shoulder and abruptly turned to face him: “I'm not going anywhere until I find Buck!” he shouted a little louder than necessary, “We have already called all the hospitals, if he is still here somewhere...” he continued to speak, gradually lowering the volume of words and stammering.

Of course, a trained firefighter somewhere inside was saying that sooner or later they would have to accept the possibility that they might never find Buck. He could have been carried back into the ocean, or he is now lying somewhere packed in a black bag, among dozens of the same faceless victims of the tsunami, waiting for them to be identified.

But believing that his friend was okay seemed to be the only thing keeping Eddie sane right now. The mere thought that he could have returned home yesterday and discovered his son's absence, without having the slightest idea that he and Buck were in the very epicenter of the tsunami, causes another attack of nausea.

The fact that Eddie was able to reunite with Chris at all can be called a miracle. A miracle whose name is Evan Buckley, who, apparently, largely at the cost of his own health and possibly his life, fought to the last.

“You need to at least eat,” Bobby insisted, largely sharing the feelings of his subordinate, “Let me help you so that we can all help Buck.”

And although it may seem from the outside that Captain Nash managed to keep his composure and clarity of mind in many ways, he thanks only God for being able to stand on his feet now in principle. He thanks the Almighty for giving him peace of mind to keep a clean head in a situation when he can't change anything. And this is exactly such a situation, no matter how much pain it causes.

And the situation is such that they have been working for more than a day. They can't help anyone if they don't have enough strength themselves. That's why he had to make the unpopular decision to forcefully send the rest of the team home, no matter how hard it was. That is why he is now continuing to try to convince Eddie to stop to make sense of everything and continue the search with renewed vigor. That's why he had to dissuade Buckley's sister from the crazy idea of combing the destroyed neighborhoods, convincing her to stay and look after Christopher.

“I won't be able to look my son in the eye if I come back without Buck,” Eddie said quietly, trying not to meet the captain's eyes, “I promised him that I would do everything in my power.”

“And you did,” Bobby replied softly, “We really are now...”

He was suddenly interrupted by the loud sound of Eddie's phone ringtone, not allowing him to finish the sentence. The captain just shut his jaw and indicated with a movement of his eyebrows to the firefighter opposite that he needed to pick up the phone. Since Diaz himself didn't even seem to notice.

The sound of the phone really reached his mind only after a few seconds and a hint from Bobby. He hurried to get his phone out of the inside pocket of his protective jacket, expecting that it was Maddie, with whom they had agreed to call every hour and check on each other. But there was only an unknown number on the screen. This fact caused Eddie to let out a ragged breath. His exhausted mind has already drawn a picture of how he receives a call from the morgue or from nurses reporting terrible news. But now that it's happening, things are getting too scary. But it can also be good news, right? Anyway, the only way to find out is to answer.

“Hello,” he said into the phone, gathering all his strength so that his voice would not tremble.

The second before the answer from the other side seemed like an eternity, until finally, a slightly hoarse female voice said his name. “Edmundo Diaz?”, his full name sounded like a hammer hitting a metal wall.

“Please,” he said, understanding the reason why the full name was used, “Tell me that everything is fine with him.”

There was a heavy sigh from the other side of the phone line. Whoever this woman was, she seemed to be struggling between following protocol and just saying everything here and now.

“My name is Dr. Grey” after a few moments, she introduced herself, “I'm calling from Grey-Sloa...”, she cleared her throat, “I'm sorry. From LA General, since you are an emergency contact of Mr. Evan Buckley. Can you confirm this?” she said, obviously deciding to follow protocol.

Well, could anyone blame Eddie for being ready to crush the phone and violently throw it against the wall? He didn't give a shit about the protocols, he needed to know what was wrong with his friend. “Yes,” he replied sharply, trying not to snap “Just tell me what's wrong with him”

Bobby, obviously noticing how Eddie's knuckles began to whiten, on which hand he was clutching the phone, again gently put his hand on his shoulder, informing him that he would support him in any case.

“Mr. Buckley's life is not in danger right now,” Dr. Gray finally said, with obvious relief in her voice even for herself, “I think it would be better for you to come here.”

Eddie let the air out of his lungs with relief and dropped the bag of medicines that he had been carrying on his shoulder right into the puddle. Buck is alive . And although the streamlined wording clearly suggests that he probably got it hard, the most important thing is that he is alive.

“We'll be there as soon as possible,” Diaz confirmed, overcoming an excessive desire to ask as much as possible right now. “Thank you!”

Meredith, however, did not have time to say anything in response, because the connection was broken.

 


 

The fact that Athena was not far away was an extremely useful combination of circumstances. Although Eddie was pretty sure that he and Bobby were planning to team up to persuade him to take a break and Athena, one way or another, was already on her way to them. But whatever it was, he was grateful for the opportunity to get to the hospital as soon as possible.

And although all the food tasted like styrofoam, Bobby, with the support of his wife, managed to persuade Eddie to eat some cheese rolls on the way. And despite the fact that his stomach protested against all food, threatening to give everything back, Eddie was grateful for the care.

“Should we inform the others?” Athena asked cautiously, carefully maneuvering along the road. And although many of the main roads are being actively cleared by this time, a lot of broken branches and other debris remained here and there.

Eddie continued to twitch his leg nervously, sitting in the back seat with Bobby. Athena was quite formidable in her demand to sit in the back as soon as she saw the mud-covered uniform of her husband and his firefighter.

 “We have to see him first,” Diaz said, swallowing nervously, continuing to look out the window, “If they made a mistake...”

“We have to believe in the best,” Bobby said, not letting him finish the sentence.

Eddie didn't say anything. And, God, he would like to believe in the best and be sure that there can be no mistake and Buck is really fine now. But there are too many “Buts”.In this whole emergency situation, they could have confused something. Why didn't they call earlier? Bobby was supposed to be notified if rescue teams found Buck, and no messages were received.

Athena glared at Eddie through the rearview mirror, “All hospitals have recently switched to a new data exchange system,” she said in an attempt to interrupt the flow of increasingly insane thoughts in the firefighter's head, “They should have all the medical records and Buck photo to confirm the identity. The probability of error is minimal. Even now”

Eddie grunted nervously, although it sounded more like a whine. That was exactly what Buck would have told him if he was with them in this situation right now. “Did Buck tell you that?" he asked.

“Yes,” Athena confirmed a few seconds later, smiling slightly. “He then said that now we won't have to remember all his data when he is in the hospital again ,” she continued a little sadly.

And it would be funny if it wasn't so sad. But there was something touching about how Buck actually continued to take care of them even in such things. In fact, such selfless behavior even causes concern, but it always turned out to be buried under the weight of hundreds of other, as it seemed, more weighty reasons for concern.

“That's just like him,” Bobby added, “It's going to be okay, Eddie. Buck will be fine.”

Well. Eddie had heard that phrase too often in recent months for it to continue to mean anything.

The rest of the trip continued in silence until, finally, the destination appeared around the bend. Eddie jumped out of the car faster than they could stop completely, having only managed to leave his gear in the car. Bobby hurried to follow his firefighter, having to leave his wife to park the car.

“I need to find Dr. Grey,” Eddie hurried to say, leaning against the reception desk in the lobby of the hospital. “I'm Edmundo Diaz, we talked to her”

The nurse behind the counter, a short, plump woman about 40 years old, slowly examined Eddie and sighed heavily “We don't have Dr. Grey in this hospital,” she replied in a voice filled with fatigue and irritation, without even looking up from the computer.

Eddie squeezed the countertop of the reception desk hard, suppressing the urge to scream right now. Not only does it all sound like bullying, but that tone in her voice is making him boil with rage right now. They're all tired. It doesn't give anyone a reason to talk like that.

“You probably didn't hear me right” Eddie spoke, gradually raising the volume of his voice with each word, which made the nurse finally pay attention to him. “Because of his huge ego that covers your ears! I'll say it again...”

“Wow! That's enough,” Bobby intervened, gently pulling Eddie away from the reception desk by the shoulders, not allowing the fireman to say something he would regret later. “There must have been some mistake here,” he continued, already addressing the nurse.

“There is no mistake. I've been working here for 10 years and I don't know any Dr. Grey.” In the same dismissive, raised tone, she replied, “And keep your dog on a leash,” the nurse added, pointing at Eddie with a glance, clearly noticing Bobby's captain's badge.

Eddie nervously let out air through his teeth, clenching his fists tightly. But now Bobby saw red, too. “Listen up!”Said the captain, “You have no right...”

“Enough!” Athena's sharp, loud voice made everyone in the lobby pay attention to them, but, nevertheless, forced the trio at the reception desk to calm down a little and lower their eyes.

“Officer, thank God you're here..” Said the nurse, getting up from her chair.

“It's a sergeant,” Athena corrected her. “And I don't care about your showdown, we're here about Evan Buckley,” the sergeant finished, casting a stern look at Eddie and Bobby, clearly conveying the message what the hell are you doing here

Eddie exhaled heavily. Athena was right, they were here for Buck and making scenes in the foyer was clearly not the best way to find him. He took another deep breath, calming down, and slightly lowered his gaze.

“I'm sorry,” another male voice suddenly sounded, “I'm Dr. Owen Hunt,” a stranger introduced himself, “Maybe I can help you”

All three of them turned in the direction of the voice. The nurse behind the counter, taking advantage of the situation, went back to the computer. In front of the firefighters stood a tall man with a short haircut and light, slightly reddish hair. The doctor's robe confirmed that this was actually a doctor.

“Dr. Gray and I are Mr. Buckley's attending physicians.” Hunt explained, clearing his throat slightly. “And you...?”

Bobby hurried to take a step forward, bypassing his wife, “I'm Captain Robert Nash,” he said, holding out his palm, greeting the doctor. “This is my wife, Sergeant Athena Grant and Edmundo Diaz,” he continued, pointing to Eddie, who had been standing silently on the sidelines until now, “We are listed as Evan's emergency contacts.”

Owen frowned slightly as he slowly surveyed the group. But soon he smiled, “That's great,” he said, “Let me walk you out and notify Dr. Gray,” he added, gesturing to follow him.

The group immediately followed the doctor. Eddie glared at the nurse one last time, but she was too busy pretending she didn't care.

“I see Evan has followed in your footsteps,” Hunt said a little later, opening the doors to a small conference room so that the group could discuss everything.

“Excuse me?” Bobby asked in surprise, exchanging glances with Athena.

“I just noticed that you...” Owen explained, gesturing to the LAFD uniform. At the same time, he opened the door and invited everyone to enter.

Athena let out a light laugh, and casting a quick glance at her husband, who was already beginning to blush slightly, hurried into the room, pulling Eddie, who, it seems, did not even catch the essence of the question.

“Oh no... we are..” Bobby began to reply. “We're not related,” he explained, trying his best to suppress a blush.

Hunt immediately visibly tensed his shoulders, “I'm sorry,” he hurried to apologize “I shouldn't have assumed.”

“No need to apologize” The captain said and cleared his throat, “You're not the first one to think that, actually,” he continued, walking into the room, “So let's forget about it,” Bobby finished, smiling gently.

“Okay,” Owen agreed, coming in for everyone. Athena and Eddie did not dare to take chairs and continued to stand, waiting for further action from the doctors.

At that moment, a woman with refined facial features and long, blond hair came into the room, which she gathered into a bun on the back of her head as she walked. She immediately attracted the attention of everyone present. Looking up and seeing clearly more people than expected, she froze for a second until she introduced herself:

“I'm Dr. Gray. Nice to meet you,” she said, casting an awkward glance at Hunt. And, apparently, having received confirmation that everyone here has the right to do so, she continued:

“I understand that you are very worried and, most likely, terribly tired,” Meredith gently explained, “So let's get right to the point.”

Eddie let out a sigh of relief. At last. He expected that they would have to wait another 30 minutes for the doctor, go through the identity verification procedure, fill out a bunch of paperwork before they would even be told something about Buck, let alone see him. Perhaps it was an attempt to make them forget about what happened at the reception. Or just their uniforms were enough, since Hunt obviously knew that Buck was a firefighter. Anyway, it doesn't matter now.

“Evan came to us last night,” Dr. Gray began her story.

“It's Buck,” Eddie interrupted, in a slightly hoarse voice that made him immediately clear his throat, “He prefers to be called Buck.”

Bobby and Athena, however, were more worried about what they found out about Buck's whereabouts after such a long time. This only means that the hospital could not identify him for a very long time. Did he receive medical care in a timely manner?

“Okay,” Meredith said, forcing the Captain and his wife back to the present, “Before we describe all of Buck's injuries, I want to assure you that he's fine now and the prognosis is extremely positive. We expect a full recovery”

“Can we see him?” unable to restrain himself, Eddie asked. Athena nudged him slightly in the side, urging him to stop interrupting the doctor. But Eddie didn't seem to care.

“Yes. But first we have to discuss something,” Dr. Gray replied.

“I can go see if he's awake yet,” Hunt suggested, “I'll let you know that you're all here.”

“Yes, that's a good suggestion,” Meredith agreed, “Thank you Dr. Hunt.”

Owen nodded slightly to those present and left the room. Dr. Gray, meanwhile, took a deep breath and continued: “Buck probably collided with something several times in the stream of water” She paused for a moment while three pairs of worried eyes looked at her, ”He has several broken ribs on the left side. A broken collarbone, also on the left, punctured a lung, which led to a unilateral hemothorax”

Meredith carefully looked into the faces of those present, looking for any signs of misunderstanding. One should expect from firefighters and a police sergeant that they understand injuries better than most civilians, but experience makes her once again make sure that she is understood correctly.

“We also discovered a subdural hematoma in time, which arose as a result of a closed TBI. Which also led to a concussion. And also a small rupture of the spleen, which caused internal bleeding” she continued, “The hematoma was successfully evacuated, and the neuralgic disturbances are minimal, and we also managed to correct the internal bleeding.” she paused for a moment, “But there was a complication during the operation.”

“Anticoagulants,” Bobby almost whispered, pressing his fist to his lips.

“Yes,” Gray confirmed, “Since Buck has been unconscious since admission, we had no information about the medications he is taking.”

Eddie, meanwhile, seemed to be in another dimension. All the doctor's words reached him, but they were not really perceived. The adrenaline that had sustained him all night and morning seemed to finally stop working and a slight tremor began to shake his body. Athena, who seemed to notice this, put her hand on Eddie's shoulder, allowing him to calm down a little and slightly relax from the warmth, exhale.

“But we managed to detect it in time,” meanwhile, Meredith continued the story, “We had to inject coagulants, so we will be closely monitoring the blood clots in the coming days,” she paused a little, “But Buck will be fine.”

This phrase made Eddie giggle nervously. “Sorry, just… Just already..” he swallowed a lump in his throat, “I'm sorry. Thank you, you have no idea how grateful we are.”

“Don't mention it,” Meredith hastened to reply, “I'm sure you also do everything in your power every day to help people.”

Eddie just nodded his head with a slight smile, wiping one eye with the back of his hand, wanting to get rid of unbidden tears. Athena squeezed his shoulder lightly, softly comforting him.

“Can we see him now?” Taking a deep breath, Bobby asked.

“There's one thing we have to decide,” Gray replied, “But we can do it later if you want.”

“No. Let's do it right away,” Eddie retorted, which surprised Bobby and, possibly, himself. But it was better to solve all the issues now, in order to quickly wash off all the past day as one big nightmare and never come back to it again.

Meredith nodded affirmatively, “The equipment installed at Buck's leg also received some minor damage,” she said.

And this was exactly what everyone had hoped to avoid.

“The damage, in itself, does not carry risks,” Gray hastened to add, seeing the concerned faces of the group, “But after consulting with Dr. Torres, who is one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country, we are ready to offer surgery to fix...”

“No,” Bobby interrupted her sharply, “That's out of the question,” he said, causing everyone in the room to look at him. “If it doesn't endanger his health, no more surgeries”

“Bobby” Athena said sternly, not understanding her husband's overreaction.

Eddie gritted his teeth, “It's not up to you to decide,” he said, “Buck will make the decision when he wakes up.”

“Unfortunately, he can't,” Meredith added, refuting Eddie's words, “No commission will accept papers signed by a patient who underwent a skull trepanation less than 24 hours ago.”

“But you're not going to perform the operation tomorrow, are you? Eddie asked, slightly embarrassed.

“No.”Gray confirmed, “But we need to do this as soon as possible, because every day without taking Anticoagulants carries additional risks. And he can't take them before surgery,” she explained.

“So we need to make this decision… Eddie voiced his guesses, receiving an affirmative nod of his head from Dr. Gray.

“And we've already decided,” Bobby intervened again, “There won't be an operation. He's already brought himself to a thromboembolism once, that's enough.”

Meredith frowned at this statement. Which sounded like complete nonsense to her, to be honest, but she didn't have time to object, because Eddie intervened first:

“You can't make such decisions without even asking Buck!” he retorted, gradually boiling with anger.

“So, shut up both of you!” Athena interjected, “We can decide this tomorrow. We're all too exhausted right now,” she said, but a second later, turning to Dr. Gray, “We can solve this tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, of course,” she confirmed.

“Then let's go see Buck,” Athena said, leaving no room for further argument.

 


8 months ago

 

“Currently, firefighters are dealing with the consequences of the explosion, while we are all looking forward to the press conference announced by the Los Angeles Police. But already now we can say that, apparently, a series of attacks on civilians...” the monotonous voice of the newsreader sounded from the TV in the waiting room of the hospital, gathering a small crowd of onlookers around. But Eddie didn't care about them, he has been waiting for news from doctors for almost an hour, trying to understand what happened.

“Here,” Hen suddenly appeared, “Take this” She handed Eddie a paper cup of coffee, smiling gently.

Eddie cleared his throat, “Thank you,” he said and took a couple of sips. Hen gave the second cup to Chim, who was sitting next to Eddie and accepted it with a grateful nod of his head. “Was there any news? Hen asked, sitting down next to her friends.

“Not yet,” Eddie replied, wincing slightly at the too strong coffee, “Since they took him to the operating room about an hour ago.”

“Maddie!” Suddenly, Chim shouted, which attracted the attention of the group. He got up from his chair, leaving a cup of coffee on the floor and walked towards the approaching Buckley sister.

“You are here” Howard stated the obvious, “How are you?”

Maddie swallowed a lump in her throat, “I'm worried,” she replied, slightly depressed, “Where's Evan, what do the doctors say?” she asked, clearly not wanting to focus on her own well-being.

“He's in surgery,” Eddie interjected, also getting up from his chair, “We don't know much yet.”with regret, he stated, “They promised to report as soon as something becomes known”

Maddie sighed heavily, “Thank you guys, I...” closing her eyes and squeezing the bridge of her nose with her palm to get rid of tears, she said, “I can't even imagine..”

“Hey, hey,” Hyun interrupted her, also getting up from her chair and gently hugging Maddie, “No need. Come on, sit down", She said, gently helping the elder Buckley to sit down.

“I'll get some coffee,” offered Chimney, “Coffee is great?”

“Yes,” Maddie replied, smiling softly, looking at Chim, “Coffee is great.”

“Great” Howard said, clapping his palms in front of him, “I'll be back soon,” he said and hurried to go and fulfill his promise.

Eddie returned to his chair, picking up his coffee and taking a few more sips, ending up next to Maddie. Hen took a seat on the other side and continued to talk in a half-whisper with Sister Buckley, holding her hand tightly.

Whatever Hen said, it probably helped, because Maddie's shoulders visibly relaxed and she let the air out of her lungs with relief. “Where are Bobby and the others?" she asked, looking around a little.

“Bobby and Athena left for the police station. They take testimony from him” Eddie replied, “They promised to come as soon as they could.”

After a while, as soon as the doctor appeared from behind the large double doors with the inscription “Authorized personnel only”, the tension returned to everyone. The doctor, a medium-sized man, fully dressed in surgical clothes, including a mask, went straight to them. He was holding a tablet in his hands.

“Are you Mr. Buckley's representatives?” He clarified, removing the mask from his face with one hand.

“It's me!” After a second, Maddie got her bearings, getting up from her chair and taking a step towards the doctor, “I'm his sister. Maddie Buckley”

The doctor frowned slightly and looked at his tablet. Then he quickly scanned Maddie with his gaze, looking at Eddie, who by this time stood next to her, slightly behind. “Are you Edmundo Diaz?" he asked quickly.

Eddie flinched slightly at the use of his name. “Yes, it's me,” he confirmed, slightly embarrassed, “What happened?” he hastened to clarify, clearly not ignoring how the surgeon had just ignored Maddie. It is also worth noting that Maddie and Hen were also confused.

The Doctor sighed heavily, “You need to make a decision. And do it now.”He said, addressing Eddie and Maddie, “The degree of tissue damage is very high. Most of all, nerve damage causes concern. We can attempt recovery, but recovery can be very difficult,” he continued, forcing everyone to hold their breath, “Perhaps the nerve will never be able to recover. And the operation will be long, which carries additional risks. We recommend amputation above the knee, but you need to make a decision.”

Maddie sighed heavily, breaking down. She was trying her best to make her brain work while Hen was only squeezing her hand harder. “What additional risks are you talking about?” Finally, she asked, already afraid to get an answer.

“A mild crash syndrome has developed” The doctor replied in the same firm voice, “Increasing the operation time will increase the risks of complications of the kidneys and heart. But it's not more than six percent”

“We can't do this,” Eddie suddenly added, swallowing a lump in his throat, “We can't deprive Buck of his leg,” he said, looking straight into Maddie's eyes.

Maddie continued to look into Diaz's eyes for a few seconds, continuing to feel Hyun's hand in hers, which was probably the only thing that allowed her to keep her composure now. “If we amputate, will he stay alive?”

“Maddie, no..” Eddie protested in a low, barely audible voice

“The situation is difficult in any case,” the doctor replied, “but with amputation, the current and postoperative risks are lower”

“Gods,” Maddie whispered, pressing her free palm to her face, “How can someone make such a decision?”

“Maddie, we can't do this to him,” Eddie added again, taking a half step forward, “If he can't work...”

“You don't understand, Eddie,” the older Buckley interrupted, “I can't lose him.”she retorted, slightly breaking down in her voice, “Not again...” she whispered, turning away in the other direction, wiping her tears with her palm.

The last part made Eddie frown. Did the three-year separation feel so hard for her that she equates it with the death of her brother? However, he did not have time to develop this idea

“I understand that this is a difficult decision,” the surgeon urged them, “But you need to make a decision now.”

“Do the amputation,” Maddie said quickly, as if burning herself in her own words.

Eddie had already opened his mouth to have time to object, but, unexpectedly, the doctor turned to him: “Do you agree?”

This made everyone confused. Maddie looked at Eddie in surprise, obviously expecting him to support her decision.

“No,” Diaz replied firmly instead, “We can't do that.”

“Okay,” the doctor replied, causing even more confusion among all those present, “You have to sign the consent. Right here.” he continued, handing Eddie the tablet.

“Wait!” Maddie interrupted them, holding out her palm in a stopping gesture, “I'm his sister.”

“That's right,” the surgeon confirmed, still holding out the tablet. However, since Eddie himself did not understand what was happening now, he was in no hurry to put up the painting. Nevertheless, the doctor continued: “Relatives have the right to make a decision in all cases, except when the patient has appointed a responsible person in advance,” he explained, “The law clearly defines the priority of the voice of medical representatives, and at the moment any decision must be certified by Mr. Diaz.”

It took several seconds before the meaning of what was said reached everyone. Buck had once asked if he could give Eddie an emergency contact, but it always seemed to him that after Maddie returned, it was no longer relevant.

“Eddie,” Hen called out, snatching him from trying to answer a bunch of questions that were not punctuated by new information, “Eddie, you can't. Maddie is Buck's sister, she has to make a decision,” Hen continued.

“I'm sorry, Maddie,” Eddie said, looking straight into the elder Buckley's eyes.

“No!” She exclaimed in response, “Don't do that!” I can't lose him! Maddie protested as tears started to run down her cheeks, ”Eddie, please!”

“I'm sorry,” Eddie whispered through his teeth, making a stroke on the tablet, “But you haven't been in contact with him for many years,” returning the tablet to the surgeon, he continued, “We'll kill him if we amputate his leg,” he took a deep breath, “So he has a chance to survive,” the doctor, meanwhile, nodded affirmatively and hurried back to the operating room.

“Eddie! Maddie whispered, her voice breaking. Tears are already running down her cheeks. “Eddie, please...” she whispered again as her knees seemed to give way. This made Hen pick her up and gently put her back on the chair.

“I can't lose him!”

 


Now

 

On the way to the department where Buck was placed, Eddie managed to tell Maddie and Christopher the latest news. And although their relationship with the elder Buckley had been very tense in recent months, he was insanely grateful that she agreed to look after Chris while Eddie himself was looking for Buck.

Dr. Hunt met them in the hall, near the sliding glass doors of the ward. “Still sleeping,” he said. “But you can stay with him.” He said, pushing aside the glass doors and inviting the group to go inside.

Bobby and Athena nodded and hurried inside, while Eddie was stopped by a slight gesture from Dr. Gray. “Can I discuss something else with you?” She asked quietly, while nodding to Owen that they needed a minute. Hunt nodded in response and went into the room, closing the glass door behind him.

Eddie would like to see Buck right now, at least out of the corner of his eye, but the curtains and the location of the doors relative to the bed did not allow him to do so. He gently let the air out of his lungs and turned to Dr. Grey. “Of course,” he said, “What happened?”

Meredith cleared her throat, obviously not quite sure how best to start this conversation. “Stop me if I mind my own business,” she finally said.

Well, such a beginning of a conversation clearly does not bode well. Eddie frowned and nodded, confirming that Dr. Gray could continue.

“I noticed you have some,” Meredith said, choosing her words carefully, “Disagreements”

Well, that could be called a serious understatement, which caused Eddie to chuckle nervously. As for Buck recovery, it has always been an acute topic, which only worsened after thromboembolism. “You're right, it's none of your business,” Eddie said, “but I still don't understand what this conversation is about.”

“I'm sorry. Gray hastened to apologize, “There is something which worries me about Buck's health, but I decided it would be better to inform you personally.”

And they both knew that Dr. Grey had that right. Buck never found out about what happened at the hospital that night eight months ago, but he never really changed his proxies due to recovery, operations and everything else.  “If it's important to Buck, I'm listening,” Eddie said, softening considerably in his tone.

“When he first woke up,” Meredith began to say, “It was literally before I called you this morning,” she clarified, “He asked me...”

“What did he ask you?” Frowning a little, afraid of what might sound, Eddie asked

“Why did you do that?” Meredith replied, sighing heavily afterwards.

“Excuse me, what?” Eddie was confused, not sure if he understood what he heard correctly. In fact, he would really like him to misunderstand what he heard.

“He asked me why we did it.” Gray repeated, “It might be nothing considering the head injury. Some old memories, or delirium,” she paused a little, “But it bothers me that...”

“I get it,” Eddie interrupted. “Thanks for letting me know,” he said.

It confirmed a lot, but it wasn't really a surprise to Eddie. He watched for months as his friend fell into the abyss, completely unable to do anything. Despite endless reassurances from Buck himself, there were already many warning signs. Unfortunately, Eddie still has no idea what he can do about it. Although, if these doctors can really help Baku feel better, at least physically, this is already a chance.

“And thank you for what you did” He continued, looking straight into Gray's eyes, “For being able to save him. For wanting to help more. Thank you, Dr. Grey.”

“You can call me Meredith,” she replied, “and like I said, you're welcome. The only thing I can ask of you is to listen to Dr. Torres,” she paused a little, “I believe she can help.”

“Okay,” Eddie replied firmly, “We'll do it.”

Meredith smiled sincerely and with one hand, gently pushed back the glass door to the ward, inviting Eddie to enter. But instead, another colleague of hers came out of the chamber.

“Dr. Colt?” She asked in surprise, “I didn't know you were here.”

Colt smiled broadly, “To see you again, Dr. Gray. I had just finished the assessment when the patient's parents showed up.”

Eddie cleared his throat loudly, trying to suppress an inappropriate urge to laugh. “I'm sorry,” he apologized, clearing his throat into his fist.

The neurosurgeon looked slightly embarrassed at Diaz, but nevertheless continued: “As I said, there is no irreversible damage. He probably doesn't remember the last few days, but otherwise everything is fine.”

At that moment, Eddie didn't know whether he should be grateful that Buck didn't remember the horror he obviously had to go through, or worry that he would have to explain to his friend what had happened. And all he has is the story of a child who himself at that time had not yet moved away from the experience.

But these are problems for the future, now Dr. Colt added: “He is sleeping now. You can come in, but please be quiet. Try not to make loud noises, avoid bright flashes of light in the coming days.”

“Thank you, Dr. Colt,” Meredith thanked her colleague, inviting Eddie to enter the room.

Eddie happily accepted the invitation while Dr. Gray remained outside discussing something else with the neurosurgeon.

Well, Eddie was ready to see Buck. He had seen his friend too often in the hospital setting in recent months, but now it looked much worse. His head was shaved bald and there was a massive bandage on the left side of the skull. There were scratches and cuts all over the left side of the face. Some even had stitches. And all this is not to mention the bruises covering the face and neck, probably continuing further to the chest, but were hidden by a hospital shirt and a blanket.

He was breathing on his own, which, of course, was obvious from the doctors' words, but still made Eddie relax a little. A tube stretched out from under the blanket in the chest area, in which droplets of blood could be seen. This was also expected, since Dr. Gray mentioned a hemothorax. Obviously, they will keep the tube in Buck's chest until the lung damage has recovered sufficiently. In addition to this, there were many more ivs, including donor blood. The doctors were still continuing the transfusion, which indicated a very severe blood loss. Eddie could only thank God that they were able to solve the problem with anticoagulants in time.

And yet, Buck was sleeping peacefully, without a hint of pain in his expression. His chest rose and fell slowly and his eyes fluttered a little under his eyelids. Athena sat by the bed, holding Buck's hand, while Bobby stood a little behind, whispering something to himself, pressing his fist to his lips.

Dr. Hunt was setting up some medical equipment until he noticed Eddie. He smiled slightly, “I think I'll leave you for a while,” he said, and closing some compartment with a key, hurried away.

Eddie froze in place a little. It was too much. This is too much to face ever in life at all, let alone one day. It seems that finally all the barriers collapsed and the storm of emotions was ready to break out. The realization of how close he was to losing his son yesterday. Accept how close Buck was to death this time. Imagine that he had been protecting Christopher for several hours, struggling with terrible pain.

It's just too much . Tears burst from his eyes while the lump in his throat felt like a ball of barbed wire preventing him from taking a breath, and his legs seemed to have decided to stop holding him right now.

Fortunately, Bobby somehow happened to be there to pick up Eddie, who was falling like a rag doll, trying to breathe through tears. The captain gently caught him by the shoulders and sat him on his knees, right in the middle of the hospital ward. “Eddie, take a breath,” he instructed softly in a whisper.

Eddie just shook his head from side to side. He tried to say something, but only an inarticulate whine came out. Pressing his palms to his eyes, he tried to wipe away the tears that treacherously continued to run. It was like you were ready to explode from the inside when a terrible sore throat wouldn't let you breathe normally.

“Eddie, don't resist,” Athena also said in a whisper, who managed to be next to him, sitting down on one knee. “Let it out”

He can't. No. Not now, not here, never. He just keeps shaking his head nervously in a negative gesture and rubbing his eyes harder and harder.

“Eddie, look at me,” Bobby called, grabbing Eddie's wrists and pulling his hands away from his face to get his attention. “Do as I do,” he said, and took a deep, deep breath.

Eddie involuntarily followed the captain, drawing air into his lungs. It seemed to pierce a terrible lump in his chest, forcing him to let out several prolonged sobs. Everything around him seemed unreal, tears continued to flow down his cheekbones and on to his chin, but now he could catch his breath.

Bobby lightly put his arm around his shoulders, “Everything will be fine,” he whispered, “Let it out.”

Chapter 3: The severity of Family ties

Summary:

Dr. Torres arrives in Los Angeles and she is ready to offer a solution. But not everyone is ready to take it as easily as Buck.

Chapter Text

“I'm sorry,” Eddie whispered slowly, addressing either the sleeping Buck or Bobby, who was sitting next to him. Diaz himself was sitting on another patented uncomfortable hospital chair against the wall of the hospital ward so that he could see Buck. Bobby was sitting with his back to him right next to the bed in the center of the room, carefully fingering a rosary.

After a recent breakdown, which, to be honest, at some point seemed absolutely inevitable, Eddie doesn't even remember how he ended up in this chair. It's probably been a while. He had not seen Athena anywhere, and judging by the sunlight that penetrated through the blinds on the windows and filled the room with light, which, as he remembers, was not there, they had been here for a little less than an hour.

He's not really surprised that he was able to doze off a little, considering how emotionally exhausting the morning was. Not to mention that they've been working almost nonstop since yesterday morning. But a burning feeling was spreading somewhere in his stomach because of the realization that he should have already returned to his son and allowed Maddie to visit her brother. He had no right to break down here the way he did. Too many people are counting on him now.

All these confused thoughts felt like a real feverish nightmare in his mind, which was still clouded by a light sleep. Eddie let out a slight groan of disappointment and hurried to clear his eyes of dried tears that were sticking together his eyelids.

When Bobby heard his fireman, he breathed a sigh of relief and slowly, carefully, turned around with his chair, trying not to make too much noise.

“How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously, bending slightly to meet Eddie's gaze.

“What happened?” instead of answering the question, Eddie asked, actively blinking in an attempt to throw off the remnants of sleep.

Bobby took a deep breath, but decided not to insist on answering his question, “You dozed off a little,” he explained, “Athena was called. I think you've been asleep for about 30 minutes.”

Eddie got up from his chair with a slight groan from the pain caused by sleeping in an uncomfortable position. Bobby also hurried to stand up to support his firefighter, in case of anything.

However, Eddie coped quite successfully, “How's Buck?" he asked, again examining his friend, who was still sleeping peacefully.

“He was sleeping all the time. He's fine,” the captain hastened to assure him.

After making sure that everything was really fine with Buck, Eddie, gradually collecting all the thoughts and events that had happened, cleared his throat, “I have to go back to Christopher,” he said.

The need to leave Buck now, when they finally, after all this time, were convinced that he would be all right, made Eddie's heart break. But Chris' interests will always come first for him, so this decision was actually obvious, despite how hard it was given. Eddie promised his son he'd find Buck, and he did. Now he needs to be with Christopher and help him make sense of everything that happened.

“Yes, of course,” Bobby replied, “I'll be here until Maddie arrives,” he confirmed, calming Eddie's worries a little.

After once again carefully examining his friend in the hospital bed and convincing himself that he would be fine, Diaz took a deep breath, preparing to enter into a conversation with his captain, which, as he knew in advance, has almost no chance of ending well.

“Bobby,” he said, also quietly, “There's something else we need to discuss. Can we?” Eddie continued, pointing to the exit, offering to leave so they could discuss everything without worrying about disturbing Buck.

“Yes, of course,” the captain agreed and followed Eddie out of the room. “What would you like to discuss?" he asked, carefully closing the door behind him.

Eddie took another deep breath, “Buck would like us to listen to this Dr. Torres,” he said.

Bobby frowned, only convincing Eddie that this wasn't going to be a simple conversation.

“I know,” Bobby confirmed, which Diaz didn't really expect, “But is there any point in giving him another false hope?”, the captain continued, “They will offer the next operations, which again will not change anything, and will only make Buck suffer even more.”

Eddie had to admit with regret that this was always an option. So far, it has only worked that way. After each operation, although it became easier for Buck, he always inevitably fell back into the abyss, suffering from constant pain and the realization that he had almost made no progress to return to work.

But there was something that flickered on the edge of consciousness, which suggested to Eddie that this time everything could be different. Maybe it's the way Dr. Grey decided to trust him. Maybe it was the way Dr. Hunt instilled confidence with his position. There was something familiar about this man that made Eddie trust him. This time the doctors had something that all the previous ones didn't have. But if you ask Diaz what it is, he is unlikely to be able to answer.

“You have a right to think so,” Eddie finally agreed with Captain, “But I think we should still listen to Dr. Torres.”

Bobby only frowned even harder, glancing over his shoulder at Buck, who was still sleeping peacefully on the other side of the glass door. The captain sighed heavily, “You will still do as you see fit. Isn't it?” he said, “Why ask my opinion at all?”

Well, Eddie expected it to bite his ass again. “Because Buck cares about your opinion,” he said sharply, “And you would understand why he does what he does if you visited him more often.”

Bobby thought about it, slightly averting his gaze. He and Buck really began to communicate much less than before, especially after the young firefighter had an embolism. “He needs to accept reality, Eddie,” he retorted, “Accept and move on. He will kill himself trying to achieve the impossible.”

And God, if Eddie got paid every time he hears that phrase, he'd already be able to buy himself a yacht. This gulf of misunderstanding between Buck and the team is gradually growing, and Eddie just wants it to stop, because it causes terrible pain to everyone. Although Diaz may have been to blame himself when he made the very decision to which he may not have actually had the right.

“Bobby, please,” Eddie said softly, carefully, “All of this,” he continued, gesturing between them, “Is hurting Buck. We'll just listen to Dr. Torres, you yourself agreed that this is what he would like”

“Okay,” the captain finally agreed, obviously realizing how hard it all is for Buck itself, which once again will have a long recovery. “We listen to what they offer. But Maddie will be against it.”

Eddie snorted a little. He knows perfectly well that Maddie will be against it. “Thank you,” he said to Bobby.

Well, if he has to fight for Buck again, it's the least Eddie can do to thank him for saving and protecting Christopher.

 


 

“Well, what do you say?” Meredith asked, carefully examining the many scans located on the light panels. In her hands she had a paper cup with hot coffee, from which steam was still coming out a little.

Callie arrived a few hours ago, breaking straight from work and boarding the first available plane. Bailey would definitely be displeased, Gray reasonably assumed. But they'll figure it out when they get back to Seattle.

Torres thoughtfully examined the folder with medical documents, slightly furrowing her eyebrows, “I'm glad that this leg has finally found a face,” she said, unbuckling something from the main stack of papers in her hands, “An insanely attractive face, I must say,” she added, raising two fingers and showing Meredith a photo of Buck, flirtatiously smiling.

“Callie!” Slightly choking on coffee, but smiling, Gray shouted, “You have a wife. You can't stare at patients.” she explained, putting a paper cup of coffee on the table, and grabbing a napkin to remove coffee droplets from the robe. “Even if the patient is a sexy firefighter,” Meredith added, smiling broadly.

“Oh, so you're saying I'm right? Callie asked coquettishly, giggling slightly

“Dr. Torres! Let's get back to discussing medical issues,“ she suggested, throwing the used napkins out of the trash.

Callie quickly regained her serious expression, returning her gaze to the medical records in her hands. “I think we can get rid of the equipment completely,” she said, “And I suggest we do a nerve transplant.”

Meredith frowned in disbelief. Predicting a full recovery with such a degree of bone and tissue damage was crazy, even by her standards, although she was known largely for extraordinary surgeries.

“He has a sister, right?” Torres clarified, noticing the distrust of a colleague

“That's what it says in the documents,” Grey confirmed

“I think there won't be any problems with a nerve transplant,” Torres said, “Besides, we've done this before,” she continued, slightly lowering the volume of her voice and closing the folder, put it on the table.

Gray could understand why Callie sounded like she was treading on very fragile ice. But she was also starting to get annoyed that everyone was tiptoeing around when the conversation started to touch on her late husband. She's not made of glass, and that was a long time ago. She's fine.

But ignoring the context, the nerve transplant really helped Derek then, allowing him to return to performing operations. There is almost no doubt that it will be able to help Buck now, if they can find a donor. But how Callie plans to get rid of the equipment in his leg still raised many questions, which Meredith hastened to voice.:

“Okay,” she said slowly, “But what are you planning to do with the shattered bones?”

Torres immediately lit up with excitement, as if she had only been expecting this question, which stood out even more in contrast to her excessive politeness that had just sounded.

“This is the most interesting thing,” she said excitedly, sticking another CT scan on the light panel, “It makes no sense for us to try to restore what we have,” she continued, pointing to the numerous healed fractures on the scan and several long metal pins that hold everything together, “Equipment, the only thing that gives the bones sufficient strength”

“That's right.” Meredith agreed, coming a little closer to get a better look at the scan.

“But the equipment causes blood clots,” Callie continued to voice the logical chain, “And since we cannot remove the equipment, we condemn the patient to a lifetime of taking anticoagulants.”

“I still don't understand where you're going,” Gray said, peering at the scan, taking a few more sips of coffee.

Callie took a deep breath, “I suggest getting rid of the root cause of the problem,” she said, simultaneously releasing all the air from her lungs, “Really brilliant, right?” she asked excitedly.

Meredith frowned and looked at her colleague like she was crazy, “Do you want to amputate his leg?”

“God, no!” Callie was indignant in response. “Good. Do you remember your 3D printer?”

“Of course I remember my printer,” Gray said, even more confused

“We can take stem cells from a patient and grow osteocytes, plant them on a polymer implant,” Torres explained.

Meredith's eyes widened. It sounds very complicated and carries a huge amount of risks, not to mention that I have never done this before.

“Do you want to do a bone transplant?” she clarified in surprise.

“Two bones, to be more precise,” Callie enthusiastically confirmed, pointing to the two damaged bones in the picture, “Tibia and Fibula”

Meredith continued to look skeptically at her colleague, assessing everything that was said. Callie, obviously feeling skeptical, hastened to explain further: “We could install a titanium bone, but rejection is possible, it is heavy and generally greatly reduces the quality of life.”She said, “And we want the guy to return to a full life, right?”

“Has someone already done something like this?” Meredith clarified, since she obviously doesn't really know the latest news in the field of orthopedics.

“Several operations in China, a couple in Japan,” Callie replied affirmatively, “However, there were phalanges of fingers..” she added much quieter

Meredith frowned and continued to look at Torres a little accusingly.

“Listen,” Callie hastened to explain, “I've been following this case,” she said, pointing to the many scans on the wall, “For several months. Since the local doctors made the first publication. I'm sure it will help”

“Okay, I'm just afraid that...” Meredith tried to voice her concerns

“I'm very sure,” Callie interrupted her, “We'll take our experience with Hunt on the veterans assistance project as a basis,” she explained, “We'll make a polymer frame and use your experience to cover it with bone tissue,” she said, convincing that her plan would work, “The bone will turn out even better than before” she finished, smiling broadly.

“If you are sure that everything will work out...” said Meredith, “Then I will support you in this.”

Callie smiled again, “Great!” She said, clapping her hands loudly in front of her, “Let's find Hunt and prepare the details before we discuss the plan with the relatives.”

 


 

The sun's rays gently warmed the skin on his cheeks. A slight smell of antiseptic hung in the air mixed with something incomprehensible, but so familiar. It seems to be lavender with a slight citrus note. Maybe some sandalwood? It seems so warm, close to Buck, but he can't figure out why yet.

He wrinkled his nose slightly, trying to get a better feel for the elusive fragrance, drowning among hundreds of hospital smells, still not really waking up.

“Evan?” Maddie's light voice came from somewhere outside, which made Buck open his eyes. However, the too bright light of the midday sun quickly convinced him of the rashness of such an act. The sharp pain in his eyes quickly spread out somewhere under him, forcing him to quickly close his eyes back and turn away from the light source.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Maddie said softly. Then there was the sound of a chair scraping lightly on the floor and the metallic clink of the blinds a second later. “It should be better this way,” she also said softly, returning.

Buck let out a little groan and tried to open his eyes again. Blinking to throw off the veil of sleep, he looked around the room. The bright light of the sun was now blocked by blinds, creating a cozy, warm atmosphere, thanks to the invited reflected light, which was very unusual for hospital wards. After a moment, he met his sister's gaze. The soft scent of lavender reappeared, creating a strong association. “Do you still use this perfume?” Buck asked in a slightly hoarse, quiet voice, smiling gently.

Maddie smiled back softly, looking intently into her brother's eyes. His left eye was still covered in blood, and although the doctors warned her and informed her that it would go away by itself after a while, seeing it with my own eyes was completely different. The blue iris stood out very much against the bright scarlet background, “Oh, Evan...” she said slowly, gently taking her brother's hand.

“Do you admire how handsome I am?” smiling, Buck replied

And if someone tells him that this is inappropriate, he has an excuse in the form of a dozen different painkillers circulating in his blood right now, slightly removing all sorts of social brakes. He had already assessed these effects earlier, when Dr. Hunt and Gray told him about all his injuries that they had to deal with.

Maddie laughed awkwardly and gently put her hand on her brother's forehead, gently running through the short hair that was left of his curls. “They say scars adorn men,” she said, hoping to support Buck.

“That's a terrible gender stereotype, Maddie,” Buck commented, shifting slightly to get into a more comfortable position. How comfortable can the position be at all when you have a tube sticking out of your chest and wires glued in all possible places.

Meanwhile, his mind was occupied by the fact that Maddie's favorite soothing gesture, when she lightly pulled his hair, did not work properly. He was informed that the doctors had to open his skull, but for some reason it did not lead him to understand that they also had to shave off his hair. The sudden realization made him let out a long moan and try to feel something on head with his hand.

However, his attempt was quickly stopped by Maddie, who gently took his raised hand and put it back on the bed, “Don't touch it, you might accidentally take off the bandage”

“But my hair...” he drawled resentfully, artistically pouting his lips, which caused a little pain due to numerous cuts, forcing him to quickly abandon this idea.

“It suits you very well,” Maddie tried to console, laughing a little, “One way or another, they will grow back.”

As he moved away from sleep, a more sober awareness of reality gradually returned to Buck, forcing the illusion of home, family comfort that he accidentally created in his head to dissipate.

He was in the hospital. He got a bunch of serious injuries and almost died, and he doesn't even remember what happened. In addition to the fact that he still can't walk properly because of his leg, he has to spend a hell of a lot more time in the hospital, delaying his recovery even more. If this recovery ever happens at all. It all collapsed like a heavy stone on the soul, forcing Buck to take a deep, ragged breath to restrain the emotions that are desperately trying to escape from his chest.

But the local doctors mentioned something about being able to help him with his leg. At least some good news. Not that he really believed in it. He had studied all the hospitals in Los Angeles for a long time, and no one here could offer anything that really helped. But his sister already seems to have noticed the change of mood:

“What happened? Maddie asked worriedly, “Are you in pain? Let me call the nurse,” she said, reaching for the call button.

“No, don't,” Buck hurried to stop her, “It's all right. Just...” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat, fighting the dryness in his mouth, “Could you give me some water?”

“Yes, of course,” his sister replied and hurried to get a glass of water from the bedside table. She pressed the button on the bed with her other hand, which began to slightly lift part of the bed, allowing Buck to take a more comfortable position to take a few sips of water. “In small sips,” she instructed, holding out a glass.

As soon as the water descended into the throat, a feeling of terrible fear caused Buck to release the air from his lungs in a panic. He swallowed some of the water he drank with difficulty, while the rest of the water caused a coughing fit, hitting the wrong throat due to sudden movement.

Maddie abruptly snatched the glass out of his hands while he cleared his throat, simultaneously trying to figure out what had just happened. The tension from coughing tightened the stitches on his side, causing unpleasant pain, dulled by painkillers. And the broken ribs clearly protested against such breathing exercises.

“Evan!” Maddie exclaimed, not even knowing what she could do to help, since pounding on the back to relieve a cough is a very bad idea, given the broken ribs. However, Buck cleared his throat pretty quickly and sucked in air greedily. “It's all right,” he said in a hoarse voice, “Just choked up.”

Maddie looked at him in disbelief, “Are you in pain? Are you sure you don't need to call a nurse?”

“No, nothing that I wouldn't deal with,” he said, smiling a little sadly, at the same time rubbing his lips with his hand to get rid of the spilled water. “Where's Bobby, what's with Eddie?” he asked, trying to quickly change the subject.

Maddie frowned a little at the mention of Eddie, “He was here a while ago,” she replied, “Now he needed to be with Christopher, considering everything that happened,” she said. It took a few seconds of silence under Buck's gaze for her to realize her mistake, but her brother had already opened his eyes in horror:

“Did something happen to Christopher?!” he hurried to ask, trying to get higher to sit down. And despite the fact that his whole body was seriously protesting, he succeeded.

“Buck, he's fine now,” Maddie replied, anxiously watching the numbers on the heart monitor grow, “You need to calm down, he's fine.”

“Are you saying that he's all right now ?” Buck continued to ask anxiously, “Maddie, tell me what happened,” he insisted, while the heavy feeling in his chest returned, turning his breathing into ragged and causing tears to accumulate in his eyes.

Maddie thought about what to say for a few seconds, “A natural disaster has happened,” she finally said softly, but quickly realized that it was a bad idea, looking into her brother's crazy eyes.

“So, Evan, you need to lie back down,” she said, lightly wrapping her arms around Buck to help him lie down, “Let me call Eddie and he and Chris will come visit you. Maybe you can talk on the phone? He's all right. Trust me”

It's hard to say what exactly made Buck accept his sister's arguments and carefully lie back down. Was it a haze in consciousness from medications, or a severe headache, causing nausea and depriving the ability to keep the body upright.

“Do you promise?” he asked cautiously, wincing slightly in pain as he got back into bed.

“I promise,” Maddie whispered, gently placing her hand on his forehead again.

At this moment, the sliding doors open and Dr. Gray quickly enters the room, accompanied by a nurse. They both froze in the hallway, watching Buck and his sister for a few moments. Apparently realizing that nothing terrible was happening, Meredith motioned for the nurse to return to work, and she carefully closed the door behind her.

“Are you all right?" she asked cautiously, taking a few steps forward. “We noticed a jump in heart rate on the monitor,” she explained.

“Everything's fine,” Buck hastened to assure, while slightly wincing from a headache

In fact, they had already met Meredith a little earlier, when he was more or less awake and when Bobby was still here. But now, in the soft reflected light of the sun, he really had the opportunity to get a good look at her features. Her long hair this time was neatly gathered under a surgical cap with ferries. Her blue eyes were filled with concern as she scanned Buck from head to toe with a professional gaze.

“He choked on water, and then decided it was a good idea to sit down,” Maddie said, not without a bit of condemnation in her voice

“Hey,” Buck immediately protested, casting a disapproving glance at his sister “It's all right, really,” he continued, turning to the doctor.

“I believe you,” Meredith said with a slight smile at the corners of her lips, “But I think I'll see that everything is really in order,” she continued, coming closer and removing the stethoscope from her shoulders. “Will you leave us for a couple of minutes? She asked Maddie.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, getting up from her chair, “I'll go get some coffee.”

The mention of the drink made Buck let out another long moan, “Yes, and I'll soak up the delicious saline solution for now,” he said, slightly raising his hand with the dropper installed in it.

“I'm sorry,” Maddie apologized with a light, sad smile, “I'll be back soon. Behave yourself,” she said.

“Me-e-eddie!” Buck drawled, clearly outraged that he was being treated like a child.

“Okay,” Maddie quickly replied, “I'm already leaving,” she said and carefully closed the glass door behind her.

Meanwhile, Meredith, smiling slightly at the scene between brother and sister, carefully placed the stethoscope in Buck's chest, which made him shudder slightly at how cold the medical instrument turned out to be.

“Do you have brothers or sisters? he asked after a couple of seconds, sighing heavily

Dr. Grey thought for a second, continuing to listen to something through the stethoscope. “Lungs sounds good. Soon we will be able to remove the trocotomy tube,” she said instead of answering the question. Meredith returned the stethoscope to her shoulders, “I have two sisters, actually,” she finally replied, smiling slightly.

“So you understand me,” stated Buck

“Actually, not really,” Meredith refuted his words, putting on gloves, “May I?”she asked, pointing to the blanket covering the place where the incision was during the operation, “I would like to check the stitches,” she explained.

“Yes, of course,” Buck agreed, after which the doctor slightly pulled back the blanket and, having gained access to the bandage, began to slowly remove the top layer.

“I was actually an older sister, although I found out about it not so long ago.” Meredith

continued the dialogue she had started earlier

Buck was slightly embarrassed, and was about to ask a clarifying question, but Gray beat him to it: “Stepsisters. We didn't even know about each other's existence for most of our lives,” she explained, “I know. It's all very confusing,” Meredith added, remembering with warmth and bitterness the time spent with Lexi, her younger sister, who, unfortunately, is no longer around.

However, she has Maggie. And Amelia, who, although not her biological sister, is an important part of her life. During these few days in Los Angeles, far from the support system they created in Seattle, far from her children, she feels that she has begun to appreciate every minute spent with them even more. Perhaps the number of prematurely interrupted destinies she has seen in recent days also played a role.

“It was a tsunami, right?” Buck suddenly asked, combining in his head the natural disaster that Maddie had mentioned, his reaction to the water and what the doctors had said earlier. “It seems to me that you said something about it, but I hardly remember...”

Gray sighed heavily, “A little memory loss is normal.”she said, throwing the removed bandage into a yellow bucket nearby, “Paramedics reported that they got you out of the wreckage,” Meredith continued, carefully palpating the postoperative suture, “Tell me if it hurts”

Buck let out a ragged breath from his lungs, having received confirmation of his thoughts. He didn't care about himself, but the fact that he had somehow put Christopher in danger made his heart break into many pieces. The returning sharp lump in his chest forced him to turn away so that the doctor would not see how his eyes became moist again.

“Christopher was with me here,” Buck said quietly, trying to keep his voice even, “I put him in danger. Eddie will never be able to trust me again...” he added almost in a whisper.

“Christopher? Meredith clarified in a smooth, calm voice, continuing to examine the stitches.

“This is Eddie's son,” Buck replied, “A beautiful child. Incredibly smart and strong...” he continued, but still his voice broke on the last word, under the weight of the realization that he might never see him again.

When Buck trembled slightly under Gray's fingers, she stopped applying a new bandage for a second and looked at his face. And although the young man turned away, she could see how his eyes shone. In tears, his left, blood-soaked eye seemed even more expressive. “Hey, Buck, look at me, please,” Meredith asked in a careful, gentle voice.

Apparently, the nickname had its effect, because Buck cautiously turned his head and met her gaze. “Eddie, this is Edmundo, right?” She clarified. And after receiving a slight, confirming nod, she continued: “I talked to him today and I assure you,” she paused a little, “This man sees in you only someone who was willing to sacrifice himself to save his son,” she said, continuing to maintain eye contact.

“Did he say that?” swallowing another lump in his throat, Buck asked.

“It was obvious from everything he did and said,” Meredith replied, “They won't leave you, Buck.”

And perhaps it was this simple, obvious truth to everyone except Buck himself that was needed right now. Of course, he couldn't believe it even if he wanted to because of all the forces. But if an outsider was talking about it, then there is probably some truth in it.

Buck took a deep breath, slowly calming down. “I'm very scared,” he admitted out loud, which was surprising even for himself. The combination of painkillers and a very shaky emotional state did their job.

Gray, carefully applying a new bandage to the stitches, asked in the same soft and calm voice: “What scares you?”

The young man took another deep breath. Since he started to spread everything to a barely familiar person, then you need to do it to the end. After all, they were bound by a medical secret, he thought.

“I'm afraid to be alone,” Buck finally said, relieved that he finally let it out, “Everyone is leaving me,” he bitterly admitted, “Eddie is the only one right now who seems to be still around for some reason.”

Meredith listened carefully, only making sure that I did the right thing by limiting the rest of the group from the information she shared with Eddie earlier. She was finishing applying the bandage and didn't say anything, letting the guy talk.

“I can't even walk properly,” Buck said with difficulty, “Sometimes it seems to me that even Maddie is gradually moving away from me.”

And that wouldn't be so scary in itself. She has her own life, she and Chimney are gradually building their relationship. Buck understands this, but so little time has passed since they resumed communication after years of silence. Losing that connection again was terribly frightening.

“I feel like a burden,” Buck finally added quietly, almost in a whisper.

Meredith had just finished applying the bandage. Carefully covering this place with a blanket, she was able to meet the young man's gaze again. Unfortunately, she was familiar with this feeling.

“One day I fell into the water,” she began to tell, “We were working on a large-scale ferry wreck and one of the victims, being a little out of his mind, accidentally pushed me into the water”

Buck wiped the tears from his eyes with his hand, listening intently to Dr. Gray's story.

“And you know, I can swim,” she continued, “But at that moment something clicked in my head,” Meredith said, taking a deep breath, “I decided there was no point in fighting anymore. That no one will regret if I'm gone.”

Buck shuddered a little. He may not remember anything that happened during the tsunami, but he clearly remembers emotions. Distant echoes of despair and unwillingness to fight on. He doesn't remember what he said when he first woke up after surgery, but he feels that Dr. Gray's story has something to do with it.

“But my husband pulled me out of the water,” said Meredith, “The future husband at that time,” she clarified, “All my colleagues, friends, family. They fought for me as long as it was necessary, even when from a medical point of view it no longer made sense.” She took another deep breath, “And here I am to tell this story,” she finished with a slight smile.

“I want to say,” Gray continued after a moment, “That these people care about you and will never give up in this fight. Even if it seems to you that they will be better off without you,” she paused a little, allowing Buck to process what she said, “It's not so. And after talking to Eddie, I'm ready to swear that this person will fight for you to the last”

For several long seconds, the hospital room was plunged into silence, until Meredith broke it: “And now I need to change the bandage on your head. Will you let me?”

Buck only nodded slightly in response, “Thank you,” he whispered slowly as Dr. Grey leaned a little closer. In response, she only smiled broadly, looking the young man in the eyes, “Everything will be fine,” Meredith assured him. And this time, for some reason, he believed.

And it really helped. Buck doesn't know why, but he felt a little easier to breathe after hearing this story. For so many months, he has talked with dozens of doctors, he has heard that everything will be fine thousands of times. But for some unknown reason, right now he actually felt that everything would be fine. Dr. Gray was able to see him in an unknown way, even after such a short time.

Meredith was almost done with the bandage on his head. She smiled softly, occasionally meeting Buck's gaze. She carefully raised her head when necessary and gently felt the area around the seams, which allowed the young man to finally relax.

“I like ferries,” Buck said at one point, drawing attention to Dr. Gray's surgical cap.

This was planned as an easy start to the conversation, but Gray suddenly froze in her actions and obviously tensed up. “What?” swallowing nervously, she asked.

“Ferries” confused, slightly afraid that he had said something wrong, Buck replied, “Cap. I thought that...” he clarified, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..”

“No, no,” Meredith hastened to reassure him, slightly moving away from her momentary stupor, “It's okay. I was just thinking a little.”

Buck clearly didn't look convinced by this statement. Something was obviously wrong, but he did not dare to ask additional questions, not wanting to upset the person who was so kind to him.

“That's it. Done” Gray finally said after finishing putting on a new bandage, “I have to go now, but we'll be back soon with Dr. Torres.”

“Okay,” Buck replied with a slight smile at the corners of his lips, “Thank you again. And forgive me if...”

“Don't apologize. It's okay,” Meredith interrupted, taking off her disposable gloves, “I'll see you soon. If anything, feel free to ask the nurse to call me,” she said with a soft smile, but hurried out of the room

Well, Meredith had just been outraged that everyone was treating her like glass when it came to Derek. But if she really reacts like this every time the conversation comes to her husband… Well, she can justify the behavior of everyone else.

Derek really liked ferries and he often talked about it. And now what? Other people on the planet also have the right to get carried away with ferries.

Gray leaned her back against the wall in the hall and sighed heavily, taking off her cap with one movement. She took it with both hands and looked at it carefully. She probably has yet to sort out these feelings.

 


 

Eddie, meanwhile, has already returned to the hospital. Dr. Hunt called him some time ago, informing him that he needed to come to the hospital because Dr. Torres had arrived and they were ready to discuss a plan for Buck. He was insanely grateful to Carla, who was able to come to look after Chris.

Ten hours of sleep in an embrace with his son is exactly what was so necessary. And although yesterday definitely reminded him of the pain in his muscles, he definitely felt better both physically and mentally. The oppressive feeling of emptiness that tormented him gradually receded, even allowing hope to arise. Largely due to the fact that he managed to persuade Bobby without any arguments and the support that came from the doctors regarding Buck.

Casting an evil glance at the very nurse with whom they had a small altercation, Eddie, holding his head high, walked past the reception desk straight to the intensive care unit.

However, those grains of good mood that he had almost immediately disappeared when he ran into Maddie near the coffee machine in the lobby. He hoped to the last that by some miracle they would not cross paths.

“Hi, Maddie,” he greeted her dryly.

Maddie took out a paper cup of coffee from the vending machine, and turning around, “Hi, Eddie,” she also said dryly.

“Who's with Buck now?” Eddie hastened to clarify, since the elder Buckley was obviously buying coffee in the lobby right now and was not next to her brother.

Well, Eddie had absolutely no plans to blame Maddie for leaving Buck alone, but he visibly calmed down when he found out that someone was with his friend now.

“I have to tell you something,” the older Buckley suddenly added, causing Eddie to frown, “Buck knows about Chris and the Tsunami,” she said a little guiltily.

“Has his memory returned?” Diaz clarified as anxiety slowly returned, spreading through his veins, causing his shoulders to noticeably tense.

“No,” Maddie replied quietly, shaking her head slightly, “He asked about you, and I mentioned Christopher...”

“Maddie!“ Eddie interrupted her sharply, "We agreed that it would be better to tell him later!”

“I know!” Maddie protested, “But what was I supposed to do? Lie to him?”a little awkwardly, she defended herself, “Maybe lying to my brother is your approach, but I don't do that.”

Eddie exhaled heavily through his nose. She may be Buck's sister, but that doesn't give her the right to throw such accusations. He clenched his fists tightly and took another deep breath. Anger won't solve anything right now, but damn it, if he'd known in advance, he could have taken Chris with him to help Buck accept everything that happened.

“Forget about it,” he finally said, “There's nothing you can do now anyway. Let's go to Buck, they are already going”

Maddie was forced to silently agree. The two of them followed straight to the ward. After walking all the way in silence, Eddie was a little surprised to meet the captain. He was already in civilian clothes, too, so at least he also managed to get some rest after Maddie arrived.

“Bobby? I didn't expect to see you,” he said, coming closer.

“Hi, Eddie. You look much better,” smiling softly, Bobby greeted Eddie and then, meeting Maddie's gaze, asked her, “Has everything been okay since the last time we saw each other?”

“Yes, Buck was asleep most of the time. He's doing fine,” Maddie also replied with a soft smile.

He was asleep most of the time, but I still blurted out something I shouldn't have , Eddie replayed in his head, but quickly threw it out. “So anyway, Bobby, how did you end up here? Eddie asked, bringing the conversation back to the question he had asked earlier.

“I got a call saying that Dr. Torres is ready to present her plan,” he said, “After all, we wanted to listen to her,” Bobby recalled.

Well, it made sense. If they called Eddie, they also called Bobby, gathering all three of Buck's medical representatives to voice their plan. And although Maddie definitely paid attention to the captain's last sentence, frowning slightly after carefully examining them both, she didn't say anything.

But they are here for a reason and they are probably already waiting for them. “Let's not keep the doctors waiting,” Eddie said after a few seconds of silence, and without waiting for the reaction of the others, going to Buck's room.

Dr. Grey was already there. Another doctor, Eddie assumed, Dr. Torres was talking about something with Buck, who was obviously already awake.

And Eddie just realized that it was the first time he had seen Buck conscious. His bloodshot left eye immediately attracted his attention, causing unpleasant sensations somewhere in the lower abdomen. It looked really scary, in contrast to the blue iris.

Buck, immediately noticing his friend, drooped and hurried to look away. He probably thought that Eddie's apparent tension and irritation from talking to Maddie was directed at him. Of course he thought so. “Eddie, I'm sorry, I...” Buck hastened to apologize, instantly forgetting about his conversation with Dr. Torres, forcing her to also pay attention to the group that had arrived.

“No, Buck, please,” Eddie hurried to stop his friend, taking a few quick steps towards him, “You have nothing to apologize for. But we'll discuss it later, okay?” He said, placing his hand gently on Buck's shoulder.

Buck only nodded in the affirmative, still avoiding eye contact.

While Bobby and Maddie were in the room, Dr. Torres cleared her throat slightly, “I'm Dr. Callie Torres. Nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand to Eddie, who happened to be nearby.

“Glad to meet you” with a slight smile, Diaz accepted the handshake, “You can call me Eddie”

“And you must be Maddie and Robert Nash,” Callie continued, turning to the others and extending her hand to greet them.

“Please, just Bobby,” the captain replied, accepting the handshake.

“I see you've done your homework,” Maddie added very dryly, also shaking hands with Dr. Torres.

Callie didn't quite know how to react to this, but Meredith saved the situation pretty quickly, “Dr. Hunt, unfortunately, won't be able to join us. He had an emergency patient,” she explained.

“Well, I suggest we get started,” Dr.Torres said, taking out some papers from a folder that lay on the bedside table. Quickly flipping through them, she continued: “We believe that we can completely relieve you of chronic pain associated with nerve damage.”

This caused a collective sigh. And although Bobby and Maddie were more skeptical, since they had already heard it several times and the doctors had never been able to achieve a result, Buck immediately got into it, and carefully moved a little higher in bed, began to listen more attentively. Eddie still kept his hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it, nonverbally informing him that he was with him and ready to share everything that his friend felt.

“We are offering a nerve transplant operation,” Callie continued to explain, “If we can find a suitable donor, then within a few weeks after the operation, full sensitivity and mobility will return to you,” she said, not hiding admiration in her voice, “And chronic pain, of course, will also go away.”

“Why didn't any of the doctors suggest this before?”a little skeptical asked Buck, “If it's as effective as you say”

“This is an extremely unusual procedure,” Torres explained, “Gray-Sloan is the only hospital in the country that can perform such operations,” she said, looking at Meredith, “And we've done nerve transplants before. Very successful”

“Wait a minute,” Buck interjected, “Are you Dr. Grey ?” he asked, turning to Meredith, not hiding his admiration in his voice.

“Yes…” Gray confirmed, a little embarrassed, “I kind of introduced myself right away.”

“Yes, but you didn't say that you are the same Dr. Grey from Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital!” Buck clarified, “This is unbelievable!”

“He once read about a peritoneum transplant that you performed” Eddie explained, smiling slightly. He'd forgotten the last time he'd seen Buck so excited about something. “To be honest, I didn't realize that you were that Dr. Grey either,” he admitted

Meredith smiled sheepishly, but didn't have time to say anything before Bobby intervened:

“Grey-Sloan Memorial is in Seattle, right?” he asked.

When everyone turned their attention to the captain, Callie replied, “Yes, that's right.”

Bobby was silent for a few seconds, thinking about what he said, “Buck, I don't think this is a good idea,” he finally said.

Eddie sighed heavily, literally felt all the energy disappear from his friend at once. “The final decision will be made by Buck,” he replied a little sharply.

“I think it will depend on whether we find a donor?” ignoring Bobby, Buck turned to Dr. Torres.

“Evan, no!” Maddie interjected, causing Callie to snap her jaw shut before she could answer the question, “You're not taking this seriously, are you? Go to another state and do some kind of experimental surgery”

Buck immediately dropped a little, looking away, “I was hoping you'd want to support me,” he said very quietly.

Eddie was looking directly at the elder Buckley at that moment, hoping to telepathically suggest that she was hurting her brother very badly right now. But unfortunately, instead, he could only let out air through clenched teeth and restrain himself, as getting between brother and sister would be a terrible position.

“Evan, are you asking about donation? Maddie asked in amazement, taking half a step back, “No! Evan, no!” she exclaimed a little louder than she greatly embarrassed everyone else present, “We are not compatible. God!”

Buck opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words. And the pain in the heart even seems not so strong against the background of bewilderment that could cause such a reaction. Eddie was also a little shocked, but he was silent, only clenching his jaw harder and squeezing his palm tighter on Buck's shoulder.

Maddie let out a soft moan, “I'm sorry,” she apologized, covering her mouth with her palm, “I.… I need to get out. I'm sorry,” the elder Buckley said softly and hurried out of the room.

Bobby, no less surprised than the others, along with Callie and Meredith, followed Maddie with their eyes while Buck and Eddie whispered quietly about something.

Meredith remained silent. Disagreements among the patient's relatives, unfortunately, were a frequent occurrence. But this always responded to her only with a feeling of greater anxiety. It always hurts to watch families quarrel. But now years of practice advise not to interfere.

Callie cleared her throat slightly as the silence dragged on a bit, “I'm not sure...” she said sheepishly, “Should we continue?”

“Bobby, could you? Motioning for Torres to wait a minute, Buck asked, “Please”

“Yes, of course,” the captain replied, “I'll go check on her,” he said and hurried to follow Maddie, carefully closing the door behind him.

Buck cleared his throat, “I'm sorry, I don't know what happened,” he apologized softly, “Please continue.”

Callie nodded slightly, “We'll be able to pick up a donor,” she explained, “It doesn't have to be a relative.”

Well, that really calmed Buck down a bit. There was still hope, but it wasn't very reassuring. His thoughts were now busy worrying about his sister, not to mention the fact that it would be necessary to find out how she knew in advance that they were not compatible. But these are all problems for the future, as the headache gradually returned, making it difficult to reason sensibly.

“In addition to the nerve transplant, we are ready to offer to replace two shin bones,” Torres continued to tell the details of the operation.

She briefly outlined the plan, which consists of three operations: the first, which they plan to carry out in the near future, is necessary to remove part of the equipment to reduce the risk of blood clots, which is very important for reducing risks. At the same time, they will be able to take tissue samples to create an implant

Just as Callie finished talking about the first operation, Bobby returned. He cautiously entered the ward so as not to interrupt anyone, but catching Buck's worried look and catching a pause in the conversation, he said, “Everything is fine. She says she needs a minute,” the captain explained, “She'll join us later.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Buck replied, looking at the captain with an almost puppy-dog look, in an attempt to express how grateful he is.

After a few seconds and confirmation from everyone that it was possible to continue, Callie continued. During the second operation, which is already scheduled to take place in Seattle, Torres, along with Dr. Hunt, will perform arthroplasty of the knee joint and partial reconstruction of the femur to prepare for the installation of the implant. Once everything is ready, they will be able to perform a third operation, where they will simultaneously install an implant and perform a nerve transplant.

Despite his healthy skepticism, Buck felt hope gradually returning. Many doctors have promised him improvement, but it's never enough. Like a cruel reflection of himself. In recent months, ever since the explosion of the fire truck, he felt that he was constantly not enough. Whatever he does, no matter how hard he tries, it doesn't get better. It's like he's still lying helplessly on the asphalt, crushed by several tons of scrap metal. But it seems that there is finally a way out.

“I agree,” he said immediately, as soon as all the details of the operations were announced

Bobby sighed heavily and shook his head from side to side in a negative gesture, but said nothing. But Doctors Gray and Torres looked slightly surprised at Buck and Eddie, who was standing next to them.

Catching the doctors' eyes on him, Eddie hastened to add: “He agrees.”

“Buck, you need to understand that this kind of operation will be performed for the first time,” Meredith said, kind of addressing Buck, but in fact speaking more to Eddie, as with a person who did not survive a skull trepanation less than two days ago and as a result is authorized to make a decision. “We still need to discuss the risks,” Gray continued.

“Yes, Dr. Grey is right,” Callie chimed in, “and the risks are very serious...”

“Come on,” Buck interrupted with a slight draw, “What's the worst thing that can happen?”he asked, but didn't really expect an answer, “Am I going to die?”

There was a moment of silence in the room as the doctors searched for the right words.

“It doesn't matter, it suits me,” Buck couldn't stand it, “Let's get some papers, I agree”

Eddie swallowed hard to suppress the nausea caused by such a cynical comment. Unfortunately, this is not the first time he has heard something like this from Buck.

“Buck, you can't...” Bobby intervened, pulling Diaz out of the stream of thoughts, “You can't make a decision, it's been quite a while...” the captain continued.

“I understand everything,” Meredith suddenly interrupted him, completely ignoring Bobby and turning to Eddie and Buck, “But you have to listen to all the risks. Take a couple of days to make a final decision”

“I agree,” Callie supported her colleague, “If something goes wrong, you have to understand that we can't leave a leg without a bone.” she continued to speak in order not to give anyone the opportunity to object. “There are also risks of rejection. You should understand that this is largely an experimental operation at the forefront of modern medicine. There is always the possibility of encountering an unforeseen outcome”

“We are trying to dissuade you” Gray explained as soon as she saw how Buck's gaze went out, “We just want you to be able to weigh everything and make an informed decision without being guided by emotions.”

“Buck, these are serious risks,” Bobby said, “Your previous operations were risky, but this is a complete lottery.”

“I understand that, Bobby,” Buck replied sharply, “My leg was crushed, not my head.”

Bobby, unable to find words to answer this, just exhaled heavily and, folding his arms on his chest, shook his head.

“Okay,” Buck finally agreed, “The answer will be tomorrow. Ok?” he said and let the air out of his lungs, leaned back on the pillow. Eddie patted him lightly on the shoulder, nonverbally informing him that this was a good decision.

Meredith and Callie smiled a little. “You're doing great, Buck,” Gray said

“We'll come back a little later to discuss the details and answer your questions if they arise,” Callie added, “And now I recommend you to rest,” she said, and collecting all the papers, headed for the exit.

“Buck, I just want you to get this right,” Bobby said as everyone but Eddie slowly left the room, “We're worried about you.”

“I know,” Buck replied quietly, “I'm sorry I ran over you.”

The captain only smiled gently, “Everything is fine,” he said, stopping by the bed for a moment, “Rest. Call me if you need anything.”

There was only a slight nod of the head in response. A minute later, only Buck and Eddie were left in the room. They were silent for a few seconds, thinking in their heads how to start this conversation. Finally, Buck sucked in a deep breath, which he immediately regretted when his broken ribs and damaged lung reminded him of themselves. Closing his eyes against the pain, but trying to ignore it, he opened his mouth to say something, but Eddie beat him to it.

“Don't even think about apologizing,” he ordered, “Jesus, it hurts you, and you're still trying to apologize for something that's not your fault.”

Eddie carefully adjusted the pillow so that his friend could get better on the bed, hissing slightly through clenched teeth. The grimace of pain on Buck's face seemed to cause him the same physical pain.

“Buck, look at me,” Eddie said when his friend's facial features relaxed slightly after a few seconds.

Buck cautiously turned his head to meet his friend's gaze. His left eye, filled with blood, caused something to shrink in Eddie's lower abdomen again. But having thrown off this slight tremor, Diaz said: “You saved Christopher from one of the most terrible natural disasters”

“I don't even remember what happened,” Buck countered, looking away, biting his lip slightly.

“But Chris remembered,” Eddie replied, bending slightly to meet his best friend's gaze again, “And he says you were a hero.” finally meeting Buck's gaze, Diaz said, “You did everything in your power to keep him safe. And saved a lot of people. And all this, probably experiencing terrible pain in the leg”

“Eddie, I shouldn't have taken him to the pier at all without warning you,” Buck objected, deliberately ignoring the information about the rescued people. In principle, it would be hard to believe in all this if he did not feel the consequences everywhere on his body right now.

“Evan,” Eddie said firmly, completely capturing Buck's attention, “There's no one I trust my son more than you.”

Chapter 4: Time to pay; Part 1

Summary:

Some circumstances of the past make Eddie insist on his unconditional support for Buck. But the pressure on him is only increasing. Will he be able to resist and not break?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“Buck, I'll support any decision you make,” Eddie said slowly, “but I'm worried about you,” he added, taking a light breath.

And that was a serious understatement. In fact, until recently, Eddie really didn't realize how much Buck had done for him and Christopher without asking for anything in return. As if it was a common thing to give all of yourself for the benefit of others. And this could be taken as a manifestation of his sincere, kind heart, which Eddie, like everyone else around, did.

But it seems that Buck's behavior has completely different reasons than others prefer to notice. There were too many red flags that Eddie chose to ignore, unintentionally downplaying the meanings they carry. But when his best friend directly declares that death is an acceptable option for him, it is simply impossible to ignore.

“Eddie, this is the only chance to come back,” Buck explained, “I'm not sure I can cope if...” he decided not to voice the last word, because even the thought about finally losing everything, losing everyone he was already used to calling his family, was enough to make everything inside twist. Instead, he just fell silent, continuing to look into Eddie's eyes, hoping that he would understand everything without words.

Diaz took a deep breath through clenched teeth, running two palms over his face. They can beat around the bush for a long time, but it seems it's time to rip off the Band-Aid. He pulled the chair behind him closer and carefully sat down next to his friend.

“I need to know that agreeing to this operation is not some kind of...” Eddie paused when the words seemed to get stuck somewhere in his chest, “That this is not some sophisticated way of suicide for you,” he said in the end, burning himself with his own words.

Saying it out loud is not the same as beating around the bush in his own head. The words fell like a stone between the friends, causing both hearts to freeze for a second.

The lack of an answer, in fact, was the answer. Buck squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head slightly to the side, taking a deep breath in an attempt to swallow the chest-rending feelings of loneliness and hopelessness. “I can't do this anymore, Eddie,” he whispered after a few seconds, “I don't feel pain unless I'm drugged. Like now,” he said, giggling nervously and showing off several tubes connected to his forearm.

Diaz took a deep breath and gently took his friend's hand, letting him talk while his own eyes gradually became moist.

“I can walk normally all day, and then one awkward movement in bed,” Buck said, his voice gradually breaking, “One awkward movement and I'm ready to beg someone to cut off this damn leg!” he spat out while his emotions gradually turned into anger, and tears began to flow down his cheeks.

Eddie flinched slightly at this statement. In the end, it was his decision, made then, contrary to Maddie's persuasions, that brought them here in many ways. A feeling of guilt gradually flared up in his chest every time he saw Buck wince in Pain once again, carelessly transferring to his sore leg. But now, seeing how all these sufferings bring his friend to the very edge of the abyss, he doubted this decision more than ever.

“Buck” swallowing a lump in his throat, Eddie said quietly, “I have to tell you something,” he continued in a slightly hoarse voice, “Then, after the explosion...”

“I know,” the young man interrupted him quietly, “I know, Eddie. And I didn't want you to think that I blame you,” he paused a little, “It's not like that.”

This kind of revelation was really unexpected. Eddie involuntarily held his breath, slightly opening his mouth, trying to comprehend everything said and find the right words, when it seemed that he had forgotten how to speak in principle. Buck knew all along and never said anything until this moment. In fact, it explained a lot now that he was replaying past events in his head, but it still only raised even more questions.

“I'm sorry I put you in this position,” Buck apologized, “I shouldn't have put this responsibility on you. You don't deserve...” he said, gesturing at all of himself, “All of this...”

And that was the reason why Buck never talked about it before? Did he think Eddie would be mad at him? Did you think he considered him a burden? Of course he thought.

“No, Buck, don't say that,” Eddie hastened to convince him, gathering his thoughts, “But how do you know? Why didn't you ever talk about it?”

“When I woke up, you weren't there,” Buck replied, “but Carla was there. And Maddie was acting weird. In the end, I made her explain to me what had happened.”

Eddie involuntarily plunged into the memories of that night. He then had to leave the hospital in a hurry, respecting Maddie's wish that he leave. Whatever it was, she was still the closest person to Buck. He also remembers how worried Carla was when Eddie came home and reported that Buck was still in surgery. Now it is clear that she went from his house directly to the hospital then.

“But I never blamed you,” Buck hastened to add, while Diaz was immersed in memories, “Never. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't even have a chance to go back to work,” he said, smiling sadly, slightly squeezing their clasped palms a little harder. “Do you trust the doctors from Grey Sloan?” Soon he asked in an attempt to change the subject when Eddie didn't answer anything.

And what could Eddie say to that question? Objectively, their plan looked incredible and slightly insane. Subjectively, he felt something that made him answer:

“Yes,” he said, clearing his throat, “I do not know why, but I trust”

The young man nodded slightly in response, “Then I have no reason to refuse this operation anymore,” he said, “It's very risky, I understand.”he stated regretfully, “But maybe this is the only chance to get back to you guys.”

“I will support you in this decision, Buck,” Eddie replied firmly, true to his word, “But please promise me...” he paused a little, “Promise that no matter what happens, you will fight for yourself as fiercely as for Chris”

And Eddie, of course, understood that this was not a fair trick. But if he can't get it into his friend's head right now that he's important to them, to the team, to his sister, he won't hesitate to use blackmail to make sure Buck doesn't plan to give up.

“Eddie, I'm not.. ” Buck tried to object

“You're important too,” Eddie interrupted, “I promised I'd always be there to watch your back,” he reminded, “But before we embark on this path, I need to be sure that you understand what we have to go through.”

“I promise,” after a few seconds, the young man replied, “I will fight for myself as well as for you and Chris, covering your back.”




5 months ago

 

After the sun went below the horizon, a fairly heavy downpour began, which was especially unusual for this time of year in Los Angeles. Heavy raindrops beat a steady rhythm on the Loft windows, replacing the uniform noise of hospital appliances that had become familiar to Buck. But, nevertheless, he was at home, although this fact did not bring as much relief as it should have been expected.

At least he no longer had to eat hospital food and could afford a normal dinner. As usual, alone. The young man threw a few pinches of spices into boiling water with pasta and decided to start slicing vegetables.

But a slight numbness in his foot made him let out a slight groan and, leaning his hands on the kitchen island, gently stretch his sore leg to get rid of the unpleasant sensation.

Another operation, it seems, did not lead to sufficient improvements, only giving even more pain and additional days spent in the hospital. Buck was pretty sure that sooner or later the department would refuse to pay his medical bills.

But, at least for the first time since the explosion, he could afford to move around his own apartment without crutches. And although every awkward movement threatened to cause another flash of pain, it all seemed at least some step forward compared to what it was. Literally and figuratively.

Anyway, no physical pain can compare with the one he experienced when he woke up completely alone after the operation this time. The news that he was going to agree to another operation again led to another small altercation with the team and, in particular, with Maddie. His sister then declared that she could no longer watch him suffer once again. But Buck still naively assumed that she would be there, holding his hand when he woke up. The way it's always been.

But apparently it was getting too much for them. There is too much attention that they have to pay to Buck, for which even going to the store takes several hours, given its speed of movement and the critical caution that must be exercised with every movement.

All these thoughts made him forget about cooking and let out a light groan in a fleeting fit of self-pity, tipping his head down without taking his hands off the kitchen island.

Maddie used to come to visit a lot. She always brought groceries or ready meals and they had dinner. But as the months went by, each of their conversations became more and more like each of them banging their heads against the wall in a futile attempt to convey their position to the interlocutor. His sister insisted that Buck needed help. That he needs to start looking for a new job, maybe get a job in a dispatch center or do something at home. But that wasn't it. He has already found his calling in extinguishing fires. He doesn't need pity or help, he can handle it himself. At least then it sounded even in his own thoughts much more confident than now.

Hen, Chim and Bobby also came to visit periodically, bringing board games and current stories from the firehouse. But as time went on and the hard realization of how far his return to work could actually be, all these funny stories took on an increasingly sad hue. These meetings gradually became less and less frequent, until finally they stopped.

Gradually descending in a spiral of his own thoughts, Buck felt a slight shiver caused by a gust of cold, humid air through the slightly open window. Since he was only wearing light sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt, it was palpable enough to make him freeze, instead of giving a feeling of freshness. The young man sighed heavily and pushed off from the kitchen island with his hands, limping cautiously, trying not to transfer too much weight on his sore leg, went to the open window to close it.

And Buck actually understands everything. His friends have their own lives that don't revolve around him. Perhaps he himself at some point pushed everyone away, feeling too unbearable for him a sense of guilt, being the center of everyone's attention. But the feeling of loneliness pressed harder with each subsequent day, cutting a bigger hole in his chest. No matter how much he denies it, he gradually loses everyone he considered his family. And he doesn't know what can be done about it.

Almost reaching the window, Buck again, unexpectedly for himself, felt a strong, but extremely short flash of pain in his leg, which like lightning pierced his entire body, right down to the tips of his fingers, forcing him to hurriedly lean against the wall and tightly closing his eyes, slowly releasing air through clenched teeth, while the pain gradually turned into an unpleasant feeling numbness gradually spreading over the leg.

He tried to take another step to still get to the window, but the slightest movement again caused a burning pain in his leg, like millions of hot shards of glass under the skin. This made Buck instantly forget the window idea. He, trying to breathe deeply through his mouth through the pain, slowly sit down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall, trying to fix his leg in one position. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, along with a slight groan, when the terrible pain finally stopped as soon as he stopped moving.

Unfortunately, this is not the first time this has happened. Buck had to learn from his own experience that phantom pains occur not only in case of loss of a limb. Damaged nerves can also send incorrect signals to the brain, interpreted as pain. This is what the doctors explained to him. Unfortunately, this knowledge does not help at all. Of course, he was also given pills to prevent this. But these pills are literally on the opposite side of the apartment right now, without any hope for Buck to get there on his own.

He sat on the floor against the wall, trying to catch his breath as the pain slowly receded. He knew that everything would be fine as long as he didn't move his leg. Unfortunately, the hissing in the kitchen, which means that water is pouring out of the pan and pouring onto the hot stove, made Buck exhale with a shudder.

He definitely won't be able to move for the next few hours. During this time, the water will boil off and his dinner will turn into coal, with very sad consequences for the kitchen.

The young guy, desperate, threw his head back, slightly hitting the back of his head against the wall. In the process, he slightly jerked his leg, which caused another attack of pain that made him clench his teeth.

He could let a potential fire in his kitchen happen. Probably, he will have time to pass out after inhaling smoke before the fire reaches this part of the apartment. Unfortunately, an open window and its presence on the floor will not help this. On the other hand, an open window would provide an influx of air, allowing the fire to spread faster, he mused, standing still and carefully watching the column of steam that rose from the stove.

However, the reminder that dozens of other people live in this residential complex in addition to him quickly forced them to abandon these thoughts as if they had never existed. And the smoke detectors will work much faster, sending an alarm signal to firefighters. And considering that Buck once chose an apartment in order to get to work faster, he is located in the service area of the 118 station.

Only a fleeting thought that his colleagues from shift B, who are on duty right now, will take him helplessly out of the burning apartment, made him quickly forget about the existence of such a possibility at all. It would only be worse if his team was on duty today.

Thus, sitting on the floor and trying not to move an inch, Buck found himself in a situation where he would have to call someone and ask for help. This thought made him let out another groan and turned away to the window, at the same time trying to breathe deeply to hold back tears and at the same time curse the universe for this whole situation.

Of course, he had a phone with him. He started carrying it with him everywhere, even at home, after the first time, when he spent several hours on the floor in a similar situation, waiting for the pain to recede and allow him to move. But he never used his phone, preferring to live it alone, not allowing himself to selfishly force someone to drop all their business and go to him. He can handle it.

But, it seems, not this time, Buck had to admit, looking at how the water from the pan on the stove continues to boil. He tried very, very carefully and incredibly slowly to pull his phone out of his pocket. Of course, this could not be done carefully enough so as not to cause another hellish outbreak of pain in his leg, forcing him to breathe more often and clench his teeth once again.

And even after getting his phone in his hands, he could only silently look at the contact list. The recent awakening after surgery in complete solitude quite eloquently reported that few people want to deal with him now. He could have called 9-1-1, but that was, by and large, the equivalent of letting the smoke detectors go off.

The realization of how lonely he really was made the hole in his chest grow again, taking his breath away. A few ragged sighs of Bach sounded in the loft, breaking into the monotonous noise of rain and boiling water on the stove. A drop of water fell on the screen of his phone, already extinguished from inactivity. Of course, they were tears. But Buck's mind, slightly clouded by pain, preferred to think that it was rain that had incredibly fallen through the window.

Wiping away tears with the palm of his hand, he pressed the phone unlock button again. For a second, before facial recognition unlocked the desktop, a picture of himself flashed on the screen, with Christopher on his lap and the rest of the 118 children around. Now this photo looked surreal, like something from another life. Buck remembers exactly how Eddie took this photo at one of the team barbecues. Before Shannon left them forever. Before that damn fire truck blew up. Before everything stopped making sense.

But it had meant something to them once, Buck mused, as the hissing on the stove gradually stopped, which meant that all the water had boiled away and his paste would soon turn into coal.

He once again took a deep breath, squeezed his eyelids tightly to drive away the remnants of tears from his eyes, and pressing the phone screen a couple of times, trying to keep his voice as even as possible, brought the phone to his ear. “Eddie,” he said softly, slightly hoarsely, failing in an attempt to hide the tremor in his voice when the connection was established, “I need your help.”

“Buck, what happened?” Eddie asked anxiously, getting up from the couch as soon as he heard how bad his friend sounded on the other side of the phone line.

A few faint sobs were the only thing he heard from the other side of the phone. Whatever happened, it was bad, Eddie understood. “Buck, talk to me. Are you okay?” he asked again, already heading to the hallway to put on his jacket.

Chris was at a sleepover tonight, which was actually the first time since Shannon died. They gradually restored their way of life and everything seemed to gradually return to the usual way of things, except for the hole in the heart, which, unfortunately, healed much more slowly. For the first time left alone at home for a long time, Eddie was just relaxing on the couch, watching some not very interesting comedy, actually thinking more about everything in a row than following the plot.

“I'm fine,” finally came a choppy voice from the phone, “I just can't get up and...” Buck explained, seeming to gather his thoughts a little.

“I'll be there in 10 minutes,” Diaz informed, grabbing the car keys from a vase near the door. But when he went outside and appreciated the almost continuous flow of water, which for some ridiculous reason the residents of Los Angeles called rain, he hurried to correct himself: “In 20 minutes,” he said and, throwing on the hood of his jacket, walked briskly to the car without hanging up.

“Eddie. You don't have to...” Buck tried to object, “I didn't want to take you away from business.”

“Buck, you're not interrupting me,” Eddie replied as soon as he was in the car and slammed the door behind him, “I'll be there soon. Will you tell me what happened?”

Buck closed his eyes at that moment and shook his head negatively, unable to find words. But his friend obviously couldn't see it through the phone. But what Eddie could hear was a slight hiss of pain that sounded from the other side of the line when Buck inadvertently moved his leg again.

“Buck, are you in pain?” He said worriedly, already driving out onto the road, recklessly not putting the call on speakerphone, continuing to hold the phone to his ear with one hand.

“No, I'm fine, Eddie,” Buck desperately denied the obvious, speaking through clenched teeth, while the smell of burning was already gradually spreading through his apartment.

“Buck, listen,” Diaz said, taking a small sigh from the realization that he would not get honesty from his friend right now, “I'm on my way. I'll have to hang up. Whatever it is, just wait for me, okay?” he asked.

In response, Eddie heard only ragged breathing. “Buck, I need an answer from you,” he said as the anxiety gradually built up.

“Okay,” finally, after a few seconds, Buck answered briefly.

The next 18 minutes and 28 seconds, which Eddie definitely didn't notice before he got to the door of Buck's apartment, passed in a blur. The heavy rain forced him to drive as carefully as possible, which only added fuel to the growing fire of concern about what had happened. He didn't know what had happened, but it was the first time he'd heard Buck so broken, probably since he'd had to hold a conversation with him to keep him awake right after the explosion 4 months ago.

The strong smell of burning was the first thing Eddie felt when he opened the door to Buck's apartment with his key. They had exchanged keys a long time ago in case of an emergency, but he had hoped to the last that the need to use it would never actually arise.

“Eddie,” Buck's voice came from somewhere in the apartment, where Diaz couldn't see him, “On the stove,” he explained.

Eddie immediately took a look at the kitchen, instantly identifying the source of the smell. The saucepan, obviously, was standing on the stove without water, but fortunately it was not burning yet. In a few long strides, he reached the stove and turned the knob in one motion, turning it off. The pan was filled with a burnt mass that was once probably pasta. Nearby, on the countertop was a cutting board with several slices of tomatoes sliced on it. A small bowl with spices, a bottle of olive oil. It all probably would have had a wonderful flavor if it wasn't interrupted by burnt spaghetti right now.

But, having no time to regret the spoiled food, Eddie quickly found a potholder and threw a slightly steaming pot into the kitchen sink, turning on the water, which made the hot metal sizzle, filling the space around with steam. Leaving it all as it is, Diaz hurried to turn around and scan the space in search of his friend.

“I'm here,” he said just in time, “By the window.”

Eddie walked around the kitchen island and finally found Buck sitting on the floor, his back pressed against the wall. One leg was tucked up to his chest, while the other was held in an extremely strange half-bent position, obviously trying his best not to move it.

Quickly approaching his friend, squatting down, Eddie hurried to ask: “What happened? How can I help you?”

Once closer, Diaz was actually able to see Buck's red, slightly swollen eyes and a few dried tear tracks on his cheeks, but he didn't have time to fully analyze it before his friend spoke, more confidently than on the phone earlier.

“There are pills in the bathroom on the first floor, in the cabinet above the sink,” Buck said, interrupting a little from time to time, obviously experiencing pain from every movement of his leg.

“Yes, good,” Eddie confirmed and hurried to go to the indicated place. Quickly reaching the bathroom, he opened the locker and froze for a second from what he saw. Five untouched, orange jars stood neatly on the shelf. On each of them was a label with Buck's name and the red signature ‘Tramadol'.

Buck mentioned that he prefers not to take narcotic analgesics, and Eddie is ready to understand him. They both know enough examples of what negative consequences long-term use of such drugs can lead to. Diaz carefully picked up a few jars, checking the date. Each was issued with a break of about a month, from the moment of discharge from the hospital after the explosion of the fire truck.

This could only mean that Buck regularly received all the medicines he was prescribed, but preferred to put them in one place. The possible motives for such an act made Eddie feel sick, while his insides slowly turned because of the anxiety growing inside. But the fear turned out to be stronger and forced him, taking one jar, to quickly slam the locker door.

Thoughts about the find occupied his thoughts so much that he completely forgot to take water when he returned to Buck with pills. However, the young man didn't seem to mind at all. He took out one, a large pill and slightly tilted his head back, swallowed it at once, frowning again from pain due to excessive movement.

“It will take effect in 10 minutes” He said after a second, “Thank you..”

“Buck, what happened?" Eddie asked again

“Do you have this when you lay down a limb while sleeping...” Buck began to explain slowly, “But then, when the blood returned, does it hurt to move? It's like a lot of glass shards are stuck under the skin“ 

Eddie just nodded slowly, understanding where his friend was leading him.

“It's about the same,” the young man confirmed his fears, “Only stronger. It usually goes away in a few hours, but this time...” he pointed with his head to the kitchen, where water continued to run in the sink, “I'm sorry I pulled you out..”

“This time?"asked the shocked Diaz, “Buck, has this happened before?”

Buckley, realizing his mistake, only looked away. However, for Eddie, this in itself was the answer.

“Jesus. And you just sat on the floor and waited for someone to come?" his voice slightly trembled when he asked. 

Buck seemed to be only trying to get even smaller, not being able to physically get away from the conversation, looking away even more. However, the sound of water that overflowed over the edge of the kitchen sink and poured onto the floor helped him in this, forcing Eddie to swear and run to the kitchen. Obviously, the remains of spaghetti clogged the drain.

With one movement of his hand, Diaz blocked the water, trying not to step into a puddle under his feet. He pulled out a clot of half-burnt mass from the drain, allowing the water to drain into the sewer with a characteristic sound, and, grabbing a towel lying nearby, began to wipe what had managed to spill on the floor. Probably wiping the floor with a hand towel is not the best idea, but he will buy a new one for Buck. Now there is no time at all to observe hygiene standards in the kitchen.

When he returned to Buck a few minutes later, the medicine already seemed to be starting to take effect. Eddie realized this from his friend's more relaxed facial features and because he finally put his sore leg on the floor, ceasing to hold it in a strange, suspended position.

“Buck, answer my question, please,” Diaz said, squatting down next to him again.

“No one comes, Eddie,” the young man answered quietly, taking a deep breath, “It's been a long time.”

Eddie opened his mouth, trying to make sense of what was said, “What about Maddie?” shocked, he asked after a second.

“We had a bit of a fight over the last surgery,” Buck admitted, turning slightly to the side to hide the tears gathering in his eyes again. And although the drug makes everything feel dull and distant, this pain in the heart was too strong even for tramadol.

Eddie didn't know what to feel. Anger? Disappointment? Maybe all at once. He respected Maddie's desire not to interfere with her and Buck's relationship to the last. He accepted her request to give them space, he tried not to put pressure on Buck. He made a promise to his sister not to interfere and kept it. But now he finds out... this? No one had ever taught him how to react to something like this.

“God, Buck...” he whispered, falling to his knees.

Buck, meanwhile, exhaled fitfully, finally losing the fight with tears, weakened by the effects of drugs, surrendering under the unbearable pressure of loneliness.

“Can I hug you?” Eddie hurried to ask, not wanting to hurt his friend. Buck only nodded in response, wiping tears with the back of his hand, sobbing loudly.

Unable to wait for more than a second, Diaz wrapped his friend in a tight embrace, wanting to give all the support he could possibly give. Buck involuntarily fell face down on his shoulder, having lost all ability to resist emotions.

“Everything will be fine,” Eddie whispered, gently running his palm over Buck's back in a soothing gesture, “I'll cover your back,” he continued to say, “I'm sorry I forgot about this promise earlier.”




Now

 

“Eddie, can I talk to you for a minute?” Bobby asked, going up to the loft of the firehouse, “In my office,” he added, pointing with his thumb behind his back, in the direction of the office.

Eddie sighed heavily and hurried to finish his coffee. He knew that Bobby would want to talk to him even at the moment when he signed the consent for the operation for Buck a couple of days ago. But nevertheless, he tried his best to avoid this conversation, which turned out to be difficult, considering that they work at the same fire station. Nevertheless, various reasons to get to work or an alarm triggered in time allowed him to delay this moment until the very moment when the doctors scheduled the operation, not wanting to delay any more so as not to expose Buck to additional risks due to blood clots.

Nevertheless, he couldn't run away from it, so he put the mug in the sink and followed the captain to his office, mentally setting himself up for another exhausting conversation.

What he hadn't expected was that Maddie would be waiting for them there, sitting in a chair near the captain's desk. “Hello, Eddie,” she greeted him without hiding the indignation in her voice when Bobby closed the door and clicked the lock.

If Eddie found himself in a similar situation in any other place except his own fire station, he would be sure that they would start beating him now. It didn't just look like a trap, but in fact it was. It would be more frightening only if the captain disconnected the station from service.

“I've disconnected the station from service,” Bobby said as if reading his mind, “So we won't be disturbed for a while,” he added, sitting down in his chair. “Please have a seat,” the captain suggested, pointing to an empty chair opposite Maddie.

The rays of the sun penetrating through the lowered blinds and the slight smell of dust from the fact that Bobby actually did not use this office so often, preferring to be with the team more often, actually created the very atmosphere of the high school principal's office, where Eddie found himself more often than it was worth. Usually getting reprimanded by their parents. And this whole situation, which is developing right now, was too similar.

“No, I'm comfortable as it is, thank you,” Eddie politely refused, wanting to preserve the remnants of a sense of his own safety after being cornered.

Nash sighed heavily, “Okay,” he said, “We need to talk.”

“We believe that Buck is manipulating you to get his way, contrary to common sense,” Maddie added, clearly making an effort to make her voice seem calm.

Eddie snorted nervously at such a statement, “How did you even manage to use the words ‘Manipulates’ and ‘Buck’ in the same sentence?” he said, enclosing the words in air quotes.

Buckley irritably let out air through her nose, “I didn't mean that,” she explained, “Buck has a dangerous habit when he wants to attract attention,” Maddie continued

“What are you talking about?” Diaz asked confusedly, having no idea what this was about at all.

“What we're trying to say,” Bobby interjected, “is that Buck is acting like a kid and he can hurt himself,” he explained, looking directly at Eddie, folding his hands on the table in front of him.

“We're probably talking about different people” Diaz countered, “The Buck I know is the bravest and most selfless person I know,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See what I'm talking about?” Maddie said to the captain, “He can't look at the situation objectively.”

Such ignoring of his presence in the room was in itself quite insulting for Eddie, not to mention questioning his judgment on non-existent grounds. He cleared his throat in an attempt to remind himself that he was still here.

“Eddie” called his name Bobby, taking another deep breath, “We believe that because of everything that happened during the tsunami, you...” He obviously tried to choose his words very diplomatically, “We are afraid that you are not looking at the situation objectively”

“I do not know what prevents you from seeing how much you hurt Buck,” trying to ignore the rage that is boiling in his chest, Diaz replied, “But you better deal with it, because he will need support from those who call themselves his family.”

And maybe it was unnecessarily rude right now, but it wasn't Eddie who set that tone of conversation.

“You have no right!” Maddie snapped, abruptly rising from her chair, “Your so-called support has already brought Buck to thromboembolism once!”

“Maddie, I don't think we should...” Bobby tried to intervene to reduce the degree of tension in the room, but there wasn't much he could really do.

“Wow, wow!” Eddie protested, thrusting his palms forward in a defensive gesture, ”This is bullshit. And the doctors confirmed it,” he said, shuddering slightly from the memory of that evening, “Better tell me why you ran away then, as soon as it came to donation?” Diaz decided to go on the attack, “Do you have any idea how much pain this caused your brother?”

“You have no right to blame me for this!” Maddie retorted, “You don't understand anything!”

“You keep saying that!" Eddie reproached her, rolling his eyes, “So explain it to me so I understand”

“Enough!” Bobby shouted loudly, realizing that this conversation was losing all control. The captain's voice definitely did its job, forcing both Buckley and Diaz to silence and guiltily look away. “Do I understand correctly that you won't change your mind?” Nash asked, turning to Eddie.

“This is Buck's decision,” Diaz replied firmly, “And I will support him in this decision until the end.”

“All right,” the captain said, pressing his palm to his face, “I don't see the point in continuing this conversation. Thank you, Eddie”

“Can I go?” Eddie asked as Maddie silently sat back down in her chair, trying not to meet his eyes.

“Yes,” Bobby confirmed, “You can go back to work.”

That was all Eddie needed to turn on his heel and, snapping the door lock, leave the office. He may have closed the door behind him a little louder than was appropriate, but there wasn't much he could actually do about it.

He was angry. Angry at himself for not being a good enough father and not a good enough friend. Angry at the universe for taking his son's mother away. Angry at Bobby and Maddie for not being able to understand. It's just too much to handle. Eddie let out air through clenched teeth, clenching and unclenching his fists to get rid of the tension. But he needed something more, so he went to the gym, hoping to get rid of this burning feeling from the inside.

After a while, rhythmic punches on the punching bag were heard from the gym, allowing Eddie to disconnect from reality for a while, focusing on the movements. On pain in the knuckles. Take a break from your own thoughts for a while. He didn't even notice Hen walking into the gym.

“Eddie, hey,” she asked cautiously, drawing his attention, “Is everything okay?”

Diaz stopped beating the punching bag and took a deep breath, “It's okay, just… It doesn't matter,” he replied, unbuttoning his gloves and stepping aside to sit on the bench behind.

“How's Christopher doing?” Hen asked, coming a little closer, “How are you coping with everything?” she explained.

Throwing the gloves next to him, Eddie took a few greedy sips of water from the bottle, “He's fine. He came out of all this almost unscathed” after finishing drinking, he said, “Largely thanks to Buck”

Hen sighed heavily, “How is he?” She asked, “You were discussing this in Bobby's office right now, weren't you?”

Eddie snorted in annoyance and abruptly got to his feet. “You know, you would know if you bothered to visit him at least once!” unable to stand it, he expressed his condemnation in a raised voice.

Hen slightly looked away and already opened her mouth to answer something, but by this time Diaz had already taken his things and hurried out of the gym, clearly stating that he did not want to condemn this topic anymore. Well, Hen could only swallow everything she was going to say and watch Eddie walk away.

When he had already changed back into his uniform, his few minutes of solitude were quite unexpectedly broken for him by Lena Bosco, who leaned her whole body against the nearest locker and was carefully scanned by his gaze. “You know, it's very harmful to keep it all to yourself,” she finally spoke after a few seconds, “So you can inadvertently explode”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Diaz protested, slamming his locker shut and turning to face Bosco.

“That's about it,” she replied, pointing to all of Eddie, “I saw you punching a poor punching bag. And then switched to Wilson.” Lena explained, “Metaphorical”

Eddie took a deep breath, “It's none of your business,” he said and hurried out of the locker room to get away from this conversation.

“I just know something that might help you,” Bosco said, drawing the attention of a colleague, causing Diaz to stop and think for a second.

 


 

“I like your new hairstyle,” Christopher said, smiling broadly as he sat on the edge of the bed next to Buck.

He and Carla came to him a few hours ago, on the strict instructions of Eddie, who could not visit his friend before the operation, which is scheduled for today. But he promised to send the best emotional support in the world and fulfilled his promise.

Chris, as almost always, was beaming at the opportunity to spend time with Buck again, infecting everyone around with his incredible smile, dispelling any worries with his incredible ability to see the best in any situation, continuing to move forward, whatever the circumstances.

Buck smiled sincerely, “Thanks, buddy. I'll think about leaving it like that,” he said, pretending to think deeply, continuing to follow the reaction of the child out of the corner of his eye.

“Nooo,” Christopher drawled, which caused laughter from both Buck and Carla, who was sitting on a chair next to him, “I like this one, but the old one was better,” Chris explained as soon as the laughter subsided.

And this sincere laugh and smile on Buck's face was enough to express that he really felt much better both mentally and physically than a few days ago.  And if it was worth thanking Chris for the first in many ways, then for the second it is worth saying thank you to the doctors who, for the first time in a long time, were able to give at least some hope for a good outcome. However, the decrease in the number of foreign objects coming out of his body also contributed. Being able to occupy more than two and a half positions in bed relatively painlessly was really what made him feel less helpless. And although a slight haze in the head caused by taking painkillers still made it difficult to reason sensibly, it was better than suffering from pain in the leg again due to insufficient motor activity.

“Well, I guess I don't have a choice now,” Buck had to admit with a slight shrug.

However, as the massive bandage on his head was replaced by a mesh overlay, his left eye no longer looked as if Buckley was a descendant of demonic forces. The natural whiteness around the pupil returned, pushing the already much less bright remnants of blood into the corners of the eyes

“That's for sure,” Carla added, smiling broadly, “This guy's taste is clearly better than yours,” she said, “So I recommend listening to him.”

“Hey!” Buck was indignant, while Chris burst into another fit of laughter, ”What's wrong with my taste?”

“Should I remind you when you...?" Carla offered threateningly, raising her eyebrows slightly.

The young man let out a groan of protest, “No, please! I had a huge cast on my leg! I couldn't find anything else,” he defended himself.

And it was true. It's not his fault that the only way to arrive at the barbecue in a decent enough way, without sacrificing the best that he had in his wardrobe, were SpongeBob pajama pants. To be honest, he doesn't even remember where they came from, but at that point in time, just a month after the first operation, it seemed to him a delightful idea. And now everyone who wasn't there even remembers it to him at every opportunity. It's unfair.

“Okay, I won't,” Carla reassured, “Can you handle the boy alone? I'd like to go to the cafeteria and get us something nutritious,” she suggested, carefully rising from her chair

“I can't eat anything before the operation,” Buck reminded regretfully, “Are you going to have something, buddy?" He asked Christopher after a second.

“I'm not very hungry,” he admitted thoughtfully, “Probably an apple?”

“Don't worry about us, Carla,” Buck said with a soft smile, “You can have a snack in peace. We'll be fine.”

“Okay,” she agreed, “Call me if you change your mind. I'll be there in 20 minutes,” Carla said and, carefully picking up her purse, went to the exit.

“Absolutely. Thank you,” the young man replied, “And thank you for coming,” he added a little more quietly.

“It's not worth it,” Carla said with a soft smile, stopping in the doorway. “Christopher, you're in charge now,” she added before disappearing into the hall.

“Hey!” Buck was indignant, which only caused Chris to laugh, “Well, I can only hope that the authorities won't turn your head,” he added, after a second, returning all attention to the child next to him.

“Are you worried?" Christopher suddenly asked, ”Before the operation?”He explained, “Dad says it's very important to you.”

A little immersed in the atmosphere of carelessness and pleasant smiles, Buck completely forgot how perceptive a child he was dealing with. And, of course, Eddie is very consistent in his desire to be as honest as possible with his son, which causes Buckley nothing but sincere respect. But such a change of conversation still couldn't help but knock him out of the cozy little world they had created. He took as deep a breath as his injuries would allow.

“Yes, I'm a little worried,” he honestly admitted, “But honestly I don't fully believe that this is happening”

And that, of course, was an understatement. He expected that he would languish with trepidation, not finding a place for himself, as it was before. But it didn't feel like that at all. They'll just put him to sleep again, then he'll wake up and hope for the best. All this has turned into a frightening routine in its surrealness, and it seems that this fact is what makes him worry more than anything else.

Christopher seemed worried, trying to look away, which really made Buck worry seriously, “Will you really feel better after this?” Chris finally asked.

“I don't know for sure,” Buck answered honestly, taking a short pause to collect his thoughts, “But I believe the doctors.” he said, smiling a little from the corners of his lips, looking straight at the boy in front of him.

Christopher, however, only nodded slightly and continued to stare thoughtfully into the hall through the glass doors, saying nothing. It was clear that something was bothering him, but for some reason he doubted whether it was worth sharing.

“Chris, buddy,” Buck cautiously called out to him, drawing his attention. And when the boy raised his eyes to meet his gaze through his glasses, he added, “You know we can discuss anything, right?”

In fact, he was a little afraid that the child's anxiety had something to do with the tsunami. They had a very emotional reunion a few days ago, but in fact there is still a lot to process, probably together with a therapist. But Buck, all the same, in this whole story, felt helpless, because he did not remember anything at all from the events of that day.

“Would you be able to save my father if something bad happened?”after a few seconds of silence, Christopher broke it.

And this question was definitely not quite what it seems. Chris was tormented by something, but did not know how to approach it correctly. And such a statement of the question itself, took my breath away for a second. Was the guy afraid that Buck wouldn't be able to cover his father's back while in the hospital, in another state? But he was actually glad when he found out about the plan. Most likely, the reason for his worries was a little deeper.

“Of course,” Buck answered the question without hesitation, “I'll do everything I can. Always,” he said confidently, lightly putting his arm around Chris's shoulders, “What's bothering you?”

“Dad's been acting weird lately,” he finally voiced his worries.

Buck frowned slightly. He didn't notice anything strange in his friend's behavior. Although, the last weeks, including the time before the tsunami, merge into one very strange, foggy dream. There is nothing surprising that he could have missed something, but, nevertheless, he had to clarify: “What do you mean?”

“He got angry a lot,” Chris replied quietly, turning his gaze back to his friend, “Not at me,” he explained, which was very helpful, because something like that would never fit into the picture of the world that Buck had drawn for himself. However, the child continued: “Recently he yelled at some man in the park. I even thought he was going to hit him.”

Buck let the air out of his lungs, relaxing his shoulders slightly. No, there was definitely nothing good about it, but it wasn't as serious as he had imagined. “He didn't do it, did he?” he asked.

“No,” Christopher replied, “He probably realized that I heard everything,” he said with sadness in his voice, “He looked very upset after that. And I do not know what I could do to help him.”

Trying to look at everything that happened through Eddie's eyes, Buck realized with horror how hard it was for him and Chris after Shannon's death and all the subsequent events. The elder Diaz himself insisted that everything is fine with him and they will get through it, but he can eventually break under all the load if he tries to drag it alone. This made Buck feel guilty again, because he allowed his friend to see him without all the masks back then, five months ago. To see how deep he has descended in a spiral of self-pity. Since then, Eddie has not left his side a single step, for which the young man was certainly insanely grateful, since he could hardly survive the embolism and all the subsequent ones without his support. But on the other hand, the guilt that so selfishly takes up the time and attention of the elder Diaz became more and more burdened.

“You've already helped him, Buddy,” returning from his thoughts and swallowing a small lump in his throat, Buck finally began to say, “It's enough that you're around,” he explained, smiling slightly and putting his arm around Chris's shoulders. “I'll handle the rest, okay?”

“Will you do it?” Chris asked with hope in his eyes.

“Always,” Buck replied affirmatively, “We'll figure it out. We're covering for each other, remember?”

 

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

Since the chapter turned out to be too big, I decided to divide it into two parts.

Chapter 5: Time to pay; Part 2

Summary:

Doctors from Grey Sloan perform the first surgery, discussing their plans in the process. Buck is anticipating that something will finally change, but he is visited by unexpected guests.

Chapter Text

"Buck, I have good news!" Meredith hurried to inform when she entered the ward with a bundle of papers in her hands, which immediately attracted the attention of those present. "Excuse me, am I interrupting?" she asked when she noticed that she interrupted the guys in the middle of something.

"No, everything is fine," Buck hurried to calm her down with a slight smile, "Meet Christopher,” he introduced her to his friend, and then, turning back to the child, “Chris, this is Dr. Gray, she helps me get on my feet,” he said, and realizing what he had just said, he giggled slightly, “Excuse the pun”

Gray had actually heard quite a lot about this boy over the past few days, and now that she had finally met, she could confidently state that all of Buck's admiring stories were completely true. This child could instill warmth into the hearts of everyone who was lucky enough to see it with his smile. “Glad to finally meet you,” she said, smiling broadly and coming a little closer.

Christopher didn't seem to be in a hurry to answer and looked at the doctor carefully, frowning slightly. “Buck talked a lot about you,” he finally declared, which made Buck blush slightly, “Did you really get that prestigious award?”

This already made Meredith blush slightly from embarrassment. She tried to look for support from Buck, but the young man only smiled conspiratorially and slightly nodded his shoulders. It all looked like a kind of strange test, but she, having the experience of raising three children at once, decided to resort to the most effective option: honesty.

“Yes, it is,” she said softly, smiling slightly and clutching the papers to her chest, “However, during the presentation ceremony I performed an operation, so I had to skip the party.”

“I know,” Chris answered unexpectedly, “There is a recording of that ceremony on the Internet,” he explained.

“Wow, is someone really messed up?” Buck intervened, looking at the boy in surprise. Although Eddie warned that despite the fact that Chris has always been very concerned about the well-being of loved ones, after the tsunami, his desire to protect them both from all potential dangers seems to have increased many times. This is quite an expected reaction, and they should not worry, if only it will last long enough, judging by the words of the therapist who works with the boy.

“I had to make sure I could trust your new doctors,” Christopher explained, as if this was an absolutely obvious truth, “In fact, Dad was watching this, I was just there,” he added with a slight shrug.

“And what is your verdict?” Still smiling softly, Meredith asked, “Will you let me prepare Buck for surgery?”

As the dialogue progressed further, Buck thought more about Chris' words. Did Eddie really Google all his doctors? Apparently, he did it. And, to be honest, he frankly didn't understand how he felt about it right now.

Meanwhile, Chris returned his gaze to the doctor and was silent for a few seconds, it seems, trying to consider something, “Yes,” he finally said, “Dad says you're a good person”

Gray blushed a little more from the compliment, but rather more from how cute it really was. “What do you think?” she asked, putting the papers on the bedside table next to her.

“I don't know yet,” Christopher said honestly, “But I believe Dad and Buck,” he added, and carefully reached for his crutches, which were leaning next to the bed.

“Hey, buddy, have you forgotten anything?” noticing the movement, Buck reminded, raising his eyebrows and slightly spreading his arms in an inviting hug gesture. Chris quickly forgot that he was going to get off the bed, and slightly moving closer, gently fell into the arms of a friend, not wanting to push too much.

Carla had just returned from the cafeteria in time to capture the beautiful hugging scene. She knocked on the glass of the open door and received a small nod from the doctor, she took a step forward and carefully stood next to her, not wanting to interrupt such a delightful moment for the guys.

“Don't they look cute together?” she asked in a half-whisper, until Chris and Buck didn't even seem to notice her appearance.

“That's right,” Meredith agreed quietly, “Buck is an amazing father,” she added in the same whisper, shifting her gaze to the woman next to her.

Carla was slightly embarrassed, feeling that there might have been some misunderstanding, “He could be,” she cautiously agreed.

“Wait,” clearly catching the second meaning of the words, Gray said in surprise, already a little louder, “Aren't they with Eddie...?” she hastened to clarify.

Before she could finish the sentence, she replayed in her head all the memories associated with these two. There were too many indications that they were together. Eddie is the main proxy for all documents. The way he behaved after arriving at the hospital, the way they communicate for several hours almost every evening. However, she didn't really have time to process all this.

“Oh, Carla, I didn't notice you came back,” Buck said in surprise, hearing a voice when Chris pulled away from the hug. “Doc, did you ask something?”

Meredith opened her mouth to say something, but could only look at Carla with a look of incomprehension in her eyes. The woman only smiled broadly in response and shook her head slightly, nonverbally answering the question asked by her.

“No, nothing,” Gray finally replied, returning to reality, “My colleagues are already preparing the operating room, we should also prepare,” she added, slightly clearing her throat, trying to suppress a slight blush, the origin of which was not entirely clear to herself.

Buck raised one eyebrow slightly, noticing the oddities in the doctor's behavior, but decided not to say anything. Instead, he turned to Chris, who had already successfully regained his feet by picking up his crutches.

“Can we go pick out a gift for Buck in the meantime?” the boy asked Carla, which caused her a slight laugh. “Oh,” Chris hastened to add when he realized that everyone had heard him, “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“I'll pretend I didn't hear anything,” Buck played along with a slight wink.

Carla smiled broadly, “Yes, let's go,” she said, giggling slightly and adjusting the bag on her shoulder, “We'll see you again,” she firmly informed the young man, throwing him a stern look.

Christopher said goodbye to Buck one more time before he and Carla left the room, apparently heading to the gift shop. All this interaction could not but cause Meredith another wide smile, warming her heart. But at the same time, there are also small shades of sadness in her eyes, due to the fact that she has already managed to miss her own children very much. The business trip to Los Angeles really turned out to be much longer than originally expected.

The young man, apparently somehow catching a slight note of sadness on the doctor's face, asked: “Do you have children?”

Gray took out a pair of latex gloves from the dispenser in the equipment cabinet, “Yes. Three, actually,” she said with a slight sigh.

“It's amazing!” Admired Buck, “It must be hard to spend so much time away from them?” he suggested.

Meredith, taking advantage of the fact that she hadn't had time to put on her gloves yet, took her phone out of the pocket of her robe. She had just recently received a new photo from her sister, and she definitely wanted to support the young man's admiration. After making a few taps with her finger, she came a little closer and turned the phone so that Buck could see the screen.

In the photo, all three children were actively engaged in making cupcakes, judging by the molds scattered on the table. The abundant amount of flour everywhere, including on the faces of children, only added comfort. The older girl, her name was Zola, Meredith explained, was actively sculpting dough balls, while the younger boy, Bailey, plunged into a large bowl of dough with both hands, kneading it. The third child, still a very little girl, Ellice, was sitting in a child's chair next to her and was actively waving a toy, also abundantly covered with flour. All the children were smiling broadly and looking into the camera, illuminated by the bright rays of the sun.

Gray was expecting the usual questions about Zola's race. For some reason, this fact usually causes people to have questions and extremely inappropriate assumptions. But judging by the way the young man's eyes shone, she was worried in vain.

In fact, such a delightful picture of home comfort could not help but make Buck smile sincerely, “They are amazing,” he said, grateful for this piece of light, dismissing all Meredith's concerns. 

He had often imagined himself and Maddie in similar circumstances before, when he was still a child himself. How they prepare cupcakes for the next school fair, smiling broadly while the same happy parents take photos. Can anyone blame him that contemplating such moments now, decades later, still makes him a little sad that he was deprived of such a thing?

“I miss them,” Meredith said, answering a previously asked question, “But my sisters do everything so that I don't miss a single moment of their lives,” she added, carefully putting the phone back in her pocket and pulling gloves on her palms, “On the other hand, I definitely wouldn't want to be that who will clean up this mess”

Buck also noticed that the children's father, apparently, for some reason is not around right now. But it would be indecent to ask such a question, and it could spoil a good mood right now.

“Chris has already promised that he and Eddie will come visit me in Seattle,” he said carefully

And although he wasn't sure that Eddie was aware of such a promise, he really really hoped that at least some familiar faces would be around him for a while. The whole prospect of going to another state and spending almost a month there while the next two operations were taking place was really scary, although Buck tried not to show it. The need to go through a rather complicated rehabilitation process when almost anything can go wrong really caused an unpleasant feeling in the lower abdomen if you think about it for too long.

“I'm sure everyone at the hospital will love this kid right away,” Meredith said, preparing several medications and a disposable razor, laying everything out in a sterile tray. “Are they planning to come during the holidays?” she asked.

Buck was glad to get another confirmation that he wasn't the only one who had fallen in an unequal battle with Christopher's charm. But the question put him in a little stupor. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he would answer correctly what month it was. Without work and other familiar things that bring rhythm to his life, everything merges into one solid spot. And considering that his planning horizon had been reduced to a few weeks, he hadn't really thought about what his stay at Grey Sloan would be like. And this is quite a long time, even without taking into account the time needed for rehabilitation.

“I am.. I don't know,” Buck answered honestly, “I haven't thought that far yet. I can't even imagine how it will be”

Gray unpacked the package with the syringe, and with a characteristic click, opening the ampoule with the medicine, began to dial it. “It's okay. We can think about it later,” she said, smiling warmly as she injected the drug into the IV.

The young man carefully watched the introduction of the drug, continuing to swim a little in his own thoughts. “Shouldn't nurses do that?” he suddenly asked after a few seconds. There have been enough surgeries over the past few months for him to understand exactly which procedures doctors are responsible for and which nurses are responsible for.

Meredith had just finished injecting the medication and threw the syringe into a yellow container, “That's right,” she agreed, “But I don't have any more patients in this hospital, so I really needed to do something while Dr. Hunt and Torres are preparing for surgery.”

This caused Buck to experience another surge of guilt. In fact, if it wasn't for him, they would all have been able to return home to their families by now. As many as three doctors were only dealing with him right now. He sighed slightly and looked away a little, “Can I ask you something?”

Dr. Gray was already administering the second drug at that moment. “Yes, of course,” she replied.

“Why are you doing this?”the young man asked, but quickly realized that he had not formulated the question correctly, “I don't think I deserve so much attention,” he paraphrased, “You could have already...”

“Buck. Stop,” Meredith interrupted him, sending the second syringe into the container to the first, “I'm doing this because I can help,” she said, taking a disposable razor out of the package.

Well, this argument is really close and understandable for Buck, who himself decided to devote himself to helping people in perhaps the most difficult moments of their lives. And he is ready to do this despite the risk to his own life. At least, he did it before, but he can't do it anymore, which was painfully reminded by the surroundings in the form of another hospital ward.

“I'm afraid you already know what it's for?" Grey asked, showing off the razor, “May I?”

He cleared his throat, “Yes, yes...” he said, taking a slightly more comfortable position, slightly adjusting the blanket to allow access to his leg.

“If you're uncomfortable, I can ask the nurse to do it,” Meredith suggested, noticing his embarrassment, “I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier,” she added, sincerely regretting that she could have put the young man in an awkward position.

“No, no. It's okay,” Buck hastened to reassure her, “I'm just a little… I'm shy” unexpectedly for herself, he admitted. Obviously, the sedatives they always administer before surgery were starting to take effect, gradually loosening his tongue.

Gray giggled a little, “Okay,” she agreed and carefully laid the disposable sheet on the bed, “You know I saw your spleen?” she jokingly asked.

The young man smiled slightly, but the fact that the doctor would shave his leg hair for some reason caused more embarrassment than understanding the fact that they would once again dig into his insides.

He snorted slightly, “Quite a few doctors can boast of this, both here and in Pennsylvania,” he said, wanting to play along.

Meredith, having already started cleaning the future operating field, sighed slightly. The whole situation seemed unfair to her initially, but understanding the fact that many of Buck's injuries are probably much deeper than they seem, especially emotional ones, could not but be reflected by a shadow in her own heart.

“Are you from Pennsylvania?” Instead of voicing her thoughts, she decided to ask, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Yes,” the young man replied with a slight sigh, “I was born there. But I've never really considered this place home.”

“It sounds very sad,” Gray commented, having received confirmation of her thoughts. “Not a very good relationship with parents?” she guessed. Which, of course, was absolutely not worth doing, but Buck always looked much happier when it was possible to talk. “Of course, you don't have to answer this question if you don't want to,” nevertheless, she added, not wanting to accidentally overstep the boundaries.

“No, you're right,” Buck replied, slightly raising his eyebrows in slight surprise, “How did you guess?”

“Well, they're not here right now,” Meredith had to state sympathetically, “and there's no mention in your medical records. To be honest, I thought that Captain Nash and his wife, a police sergeant...” she broke off, turning her gaze to the ceiling, trying to remember the name, “Athena. I thought they were your parents.”

“You're not the first,” Buck admitted, smiling slightly, “In fact, in the few years that we've known each other, they managed to do much more for me than my real parents did for the rest of my life before,” he explained, “So you were right in some ways”

“It does sound pretty bad,” Gray commented, “But I can understand how it feels.”

And it was true. Meredith can really understand, because she herself has lived most of her life in the impenetrable shadow of her own mother's career. And only after she was really able to graduate from medical school and start an internship, she was able to find people who are ready to support her in what her own parents could never do.

“My father left us quite early,” feeling the need to clarify, she explained, “My mother devoted most of her time to her exceptional career, not worrying about what her daughter was doing.” she took a small breath, simultaneously finishing preparing the future surgical field, “My mentor, Richard, became like a father to me in many ways when I started my internship”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Buck replied, “but I'm glad you were able to find and build your own family,” he added with a little sadness in his voice. The feeling that his own found family was increasingly moving away was constantly somewhere on the edge of consciousness, not allowing him to exhale. Not to mention that the chances of returning to them are really slim.

“Is that why you're so worried about your relationship with the captain?” Very sensitively noticing the change of mood, Gray asked.

“Perhaps it is. My parents didn't really pay attention to me most of the time,” Buck replied, “Here I managed to really feel needed,” he added, sighing slightly again, “It's hard to realize that I could lose it.”

“Like I said,” Meredith said, picking up all the tools she had laid out earlier, “They're really worried about you. You won't lose it even if you can't get back to the same job,” she added softly, “These ties are much stronger than they may seem to you now.”

Buck exhaled heavily, “I want to believe it,” he said, “Thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Gray objected while she was opening a disposable beanie, “Put this on, please,” she said, holding out the beanie.

The young man took the garment and carefully pulled it over his head while the doctor put all the bags of liquids on the bed. “Ready to go?” she asked, pressing the call button on the panel next to her.

“Probably?” Buck answered uncertainty, taking a slightly more comfortable position in the bed.

“Is this a question or a statement?” Meredith clarified, lifting the sides of the bed and removing the wheel lock with a quick movement of her foot.

And he doesn't know, honestly. It seemed that all the excitement that had been accumulating somewhere in a secluded place, without giving itself away in any way, now burst out in a continuous stream. The realization that he would finally soon be a whole step closer to getting his life back made his heart beat faster and his palms feel pleasantly wet.

“I'm ready,” he confirmed after a second. “Just a little bit worried”

Several nurses entered the room at that moment. Dr. Grey nodded to them, allowing them to take comfortable places to transport the bed. She herself stood closer to the headboard, “I remind you, today we will just take samples and fix the equipment a little. There's nothing to worry about,” she soothed, just at the moment when the bed moved.

Buck took another deep enough breath, “I know. It's just a big step,” he said. “Sorry for the pun, please”

Meredith smiled softly, nudging the bed slightly to carefully fit into the aisle.  “By the way, I almost forgot about the good news,” she said, “We have received full approval for the translation. So maybe it will be possible to go to Seattle much earlier.”

“That's good news,” Buck agreed. He, of course, planned that he would still have a couple of weeks after discharge to put everything in order. Although, if you think about it, by and large he does not have any current or important affairs. By and large, he will only need to arrange for someone to look after his apartment and properly say goodbye to his sister and the others. He is confident that he can do it.

“Buck!” Christopher exclaimed as soon as he saw them leaving the ward. He and Carla came a little closer, continuing to move along the corridor with the bed, “We were waiting to wish you good luck!” Chris added.

Buck tilted his head slightly to see the boy. Well, if he still had any worries and fears, they have completely dissipated now. “Thanks, buddy,” he replied softly, slightly reaching out to stroke the child's head, “Although I'm sure I have nothing to worry about with such doctors,” he added, turning to Dr. Gray.

Meredith smiled softly, “Everything will definitely be fine now,” she confirmed. “The operation will last several hours. You can stay in the waiting room,” she suggested, turning to Carla.

“Someone has school tomorrow, so I'm not sure we can stay,” Carla admitted regretfully, “But we'll leave you a surprise,” she hurried to calm Buck, exchanging conspiratorial glances with Chris. “Eddie plans to come to you as soon as he finishes his shift”

At that moment, they drove up to the large double doors, with a red line on the floor forbidding further movement for anyone who is not a doctor or patient. The nurses stopped smoothly, waiting for further instructions.

“That's good. Thanks, Carla,” Buck replied before turning to Christopher and adding, “Don't forget to do your homework.”

“I'll do it!” Chris was slightly indignant, “We'll come tomorrow after school. I want to show you my project”

“That's great!” With a sincere smile on his face, Buck replied, “Well, I think it's time for us,” he said, casting a light glance at the doctor, “Thank you for seeing me off,” he thanked again, returning his gaze to Carla.

“Good luck to you, Buck,” Carla said, taking Buck's hand in her palms.

“See you soon!” Christopher added, also placing his palm on his friend's arm.

After a few seconds, they nodded slightly to Buck, smiling gently, before the nurses took the gurney through the doors into the closed area. The young man took another deep breath, allowing himself to relax completely, while a smile continued to shine on his face from the fact that Carla and Chris waited to see him off.

“Dr. Grey, may I ask you?” Christopher asked suddenly, very quietly, stopping Meredith from going through the door with the others. She nodded slightly to the nurses to take Buck further into the operating room, and turned to the boy.

“Of course. What would you like to ask?” She said, carefully squatting down to be on a level with Chris.

“Buck used to be sad most of the time if he was in the hospital,” he said, “but now he looks..“ Chris was a little hesitant about which word to use, “Better. Almost the same as before”

Carla was slightly embarrassed, slightly furrowing her eyebrows. Christopher used to occasionally express such concerns only to his father, but never to anyone else. They definitely should not forget that this child notices and understands much more than many expect.

“Do you promise that you won't hurt him like other doctors?” Chris finally asked.

This is not the question Meredith expected to hear from a child. But understanding that Buck really has people who will always support him, regardless of the situation, gave her a little more confidence. She shot a quick glance at Carla, who looked a little confused, but indicated with a gesture of her head that everything was fine. In the end, Grey sighed slightly and said with a warm smile, “I promise.” she says. 

Christopher smiled even wider and nodded slightly, saying nothing more. But Carla frowned slightly, she definitely understood that doctors should not make promises. And it would be strange to think that Meredith herself does not understand this. They have been drummed into the importance of not making promises that they cannot fulfill since the very first year of medical school.

Grey rose cautiously to her feet and met Carla's gaze. A few seconds were enough for the woman to relax her facial features and also gently smiled, nodded slightly. Apparently, something in the doctor's gaze was able to convince her that this was not just an empty promise for the child.

 


 

“It's all so unfair,” Callie said, taking a deep breath, tying a surgical cap on the back of her head.

Hunt gave her a knowing look as he took out a disposable mask from the box above the sink, “I agree. But this guy is a real fighter, I'm sure he can handle it.”

“That's not exactly what I meant,” Torres replied, coming closer and also pulling out a disposable mask. “Although I agree with you” She said, putting a mask on her face and turning on the faucet, “I'm glad he has a family who can support him.”

Owen actively rubbed his hands with a sponge, soaping up the cleaning solution, “He and Eddie work together, right?" he asked

“As far as I understand,” Callie replied, taking a sponge, “Working families of the first responders may be much stronger than those of doctors.”

“You're right. You have to trust others very much when your life largely depends on them,” Hunt admitted, “It's almost like in the army,” he paused a little, “But that doesn't mean that we don't also need to fully trust each other,” he added with a slight sigh.

“What do you mean?” Torres asked, slightly embarrassed, starting to clean her hands with a sponge.

Owen let the air out of his lungs. This is not exactly how he planned to start this conversation, but there may not be a better moment, “Please don't get me wrong, I'm not questioning your professional skills” He said, turning to meet Callie's gaze, “But I'm a little worried about how objectively you can evaluate this, I must say, rather risky operation.”

Torres took a deep breath. This situation really turned out to be quite close and cannot cause parallels with how her wife fought for a long time to save her leg, but eventually lost in this battle. “I really took it up because I can help,” she replied firmly, “But I didn't make it up on my knee. It's been months of work, Owen.”

“I understand that,” Hunt replied, closing the faucet with his elbow, “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...”

“It's okay,” Callie interrupted him, “I would ask the same question if I were you,” she said and also snapped the faucet, raising her hands so that her palms were at face level. “Come on, they're already waiting for us,” she added, smiling slightly and pointing with her head to the operating room behind the glass wall, where the patient had already been taken.

Owen also smiled slightly in response and with one movement opened the door with his back, finding himself in the operating room. “Hi, Buck,” he greeted, slipping his hands into the gloves prepared by the nurses.

“Hi, Dr. Hunt,” Buck replied, smiling and turning his head slightly, “Dr. Torres.”

“Please, just Callie,” Torres replied, also slipping her hands into the gloves prepared by the nurses, “How are you in the mood?” she asked.

“I`am okay,” Buck said confidently, moving slightly on the table to take a more comfortable position while the nurses covered him with a sheet. “I think I should have gotten used to all this by now,” he added, glancing around the operating room, “But apparently not.”

And the room, as usual, was too cold. He was lying almost naked, covered with several sheets, while a lot of barely familiar people were circling around. Monotonous beeping of devices, negotiations of medical personnel, usually in a half-whisper. It all seemed very alien and detached. Although he should also have noticed that watching the well-coordinated work of so many people was soothing. It reminds him of how they can work on some complicated rescue using various equipment, reaching a point where everyone understands each other almost without words. God, he misses it so much.

“I also prefer to be on the other side of the table,” Meredith added with a soft smile as soon as she entered the operating room.

Buck turned his head towards the voice and was surprised to find Dr. Grey. She was only wearing a mask and a cap, and obviously tried to keep away from the operating table, while the other doctors had already approached the table. “I didn't expect to see you here,” he commented.

“As I said, I don't have any other patients right now,” she replied, “Besides, I thought you might need some extra company.”

At that moment, the anesthesiologist had already injected some kind of white, opaque drug into the dropper and prepared an oxygen mask. After receiving confirmation from Callie, he carefully leaned the mask against Buck's face, “Count from ten to zero,” he instructed.

“Thank you,” Buck said instead, turning to Meredith, which made the anesthesiologist frown with displeasure, “I think it's been a long time...”

The words gradually became less legible as the muscles gradually relaxed, making him feel much easier than usual. “I hav..n't fe..t it for a l..ng time.. reliable...” he uttered the words before finally falling asleep, keeping a small smile on the corners of his lips.

“Laryngoscope" sounded the command from the anesthesiologist. While he was busy intubating, the nurses finished preparing the surgical field on his leg, covering all unused areas with disposable sheets and treating the site of the future incision with antiseptic.

“Mer, did you prepare him for the operation yourself?" Callie asked cautiously as she received the spalpel from the nurse's hands.

“Yes, I didn't have much to do anyway,” she admitted, not without regret. She is already used to the constant flow of work, it is quite difficult for her to come to terms with her absence. “Although, we managed to have a good conversation,” she admitted.

When the anesthesiologist gave the command that they could start, Torres took a deep breath and carefully ran the scalpel from Buck's ankle almost to his knee, releasing bright scarlet streaks of blood. “Expander,” she commanded.

“What were you talking about?" Hunt asked, carefully dissecting the flesh with a scalpel, providing access to the bone for Callie. He could not help but notice that the tissues do not have time to heal properly after previous operations, forming dense scar tissue, “We will need the help of a plastic surgeon for the next operation,” he commented.

“I've already made arrangements with Jackson,” Torres chimed in, “we've scheduled a second surgery in three weeks.”

This was unexpected for both Hunt and Meredith. Although, given that each of the three operations requires the organization of access from different places, they may not wait until the incisions heal to the end. It was also surprising that Callie had already organized everything. Well, it looks like she really had a clear plan.

“A lot of things,” Gray replied evasively, “It turns out we have a lot in common,” she added a little thoughtfully.

“Hey, be careful. This guy is already busy with another hot firefighter” wanting to make fun of a friend, Callie said.

“Ah, speaking of which,” Meredith said with a slightly conspiratorial smile, “They, as it turned out, are not together.”

“Wait,” Hunt interjected, “Did you think they were together?” he asked, turning to Torres, installing the expanders in parallel.

“Yes...” Slowly, slightly perplexed, Callie replied, putting the tools he no longer needed in the tray next to her, “Aren't you?”

“I thought so too,” Gray said, “It led to an awkward situation, but eventually everything cleared up.”

Hunt chuckled slightly, fixing the expander, “I see the equipment,” he reported after a few seconds, “Need a suction here”

The nurse installed the instrument in the specified place and the noise of the working aspirator filled the room when the red liquid began to flow down the transparent tubes.

“Do we have enough blood?” Callie asked, “What is the infusion rate?”

And although they expected that due to the abundance of connective tissue from the scars, the bleeding would not be very strong, having gained access directly to the bone, they were surprised to find that the surrounding tissue looked much better than expected. Callie is ready to pay tribute to the surgeons who dealt with Buck before, they had a really professional job.

“We will prepare two more packages,” the nurse replied, while the anesthesiologist slightly adjusted the infusion rate

“So, are you saying they're just friends?" Torres said, returning to the topic raised earlier.

“Best friends,” Meredith corrected her, “And Eddie has an adorable son.”

“Oh, Christopher, right?”Hunt clarified, “We already saw each other when they came last time,” he said, “I was really sure that this was Buck's son.”

“Oh, yes, they look alike,” Gray agreed, “And Buck himself would seem to be such an amazing father that no one even noticed the catch.”

“Wait, wait!” Callie interjected, carefully unscrewing the screw from the bone, “Are you sure you're not confusing anything? Buck talked about him so much, I was sure...” she paused, concentrating on getting the screw out correctly.

“Now I think I understand what Mer meant by the phrase ‘Magnificent father’,” Hunt commented, scrolling through all the memories in his head.

Torres finally removed the equipment and carefully, with a clip, pushed the blood-covered screw into the tray next to it. “So does this mean that our sexy firefighter is completely free?” she said

Meredith slightly choked on her saliva, “Callie!” She exclaimed, “You have a wife!”

“It's also very unethical,” Hunt added, catching a disapproving look from one of the nurses.

“I know, I know!” Torres was indignant, “We've already been through this! That doesn't mean I can't do justice to how good he looks.”

“Callie, if you would take a little more time to communicate directly with the patient” Meredith began to speak accusingly, “You would have noticed that he is actually a very strong, brave and intelligent person in the first place. Appearance is not the main thing at all”

Hunt shot a questioning glance at Gray. Callie would have done it too if she wasn't standing with her back to her right now.

“Give me a container with a nutrient medium for cell samples,” Torres commanded, and, having received the cup in her hand, she began to carefully collect samples from a pre-made hole in the bone.

“Yeah...” Callie said, slightly stretching the sound, “And it seemed to me that you decided to prepare it yourself because of boredom. And it turns out to explore his inner world better,” she said, smiling broadly, slightly conspiratorially, winking at Owen, who was standing opposite.

Hunt chuckled slightly when he saw the blush covering Meredith's neck.

“No, it's not what you think at all!” Gray was indignant, “It just seems to me that despite the fact that we have known each other for a very short time, I can really understand him.” She explained, “And I can help you figure out this situation!” she added to rule out a misunderstanding.

“Of course,” Torres agreed, carefully snapping the container, “Owen, I need your help to move this screw.”

“Come on,” Hunt confirmed, firmly locking the proximal end. Some procedures in orthopedics required really big efforts.

“Anyway, when are we planning to fly back to Seattle?” Meredith asked, wanting to take advantage of the pause to change the subject.

“I'm leaving tomorrow,” Hunt replied a few seconds later, as soon as the part was in the right place, “Bailey very eloquently expressed her dissatisfaction with the fact that three surgeons will be cooling off in Los Angeles”

“Yeah,” Callie added, “you're lucky you didn't hear that.”

“I can imagine,” Gray agreed, “Okay. Then we definitely shouldn't delay. We have received permission to transfer, so we can do it as soon as possible.”

“And you're only talking about it now?" With a long moan, Torres said, “That was the place to start! I suggest we stay here for a few more days and escort Buck to the plane immediately after discharge, so as not to wait until all the stitches heal completely.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Meredith said, “Two surgeons accompanied should be enough to get him discharged with us a little earlier.”

 


 

Waking up after anesthesia is always the most terrible part of any operation. The mind is still in a fog for a long time, all the muscles hurt, and trying to open your eyes turns into a whole ordeal. But the worst thing is dryness and sore throat due to prolonged exposure to artificial ventilation.

Feeling his own presence in the material world a little bit, without even opening his eyes, Buck tried to move his leg slightly to immediately find out if everything went well and if his limb was still with him.

The sharp pain from the fresh stitches quickly informed him that everything was fine. But the relief that this knowledge gave was clearly not enough to block out the very unpleasant sensations that tormented him despite a fair share of painkillers.

“Buck, hey, it's okay,” Eddie's voice came from somewhere from the side, who apparently noticed how Buck frowned from unpleasant sensations.

The young man cautiously opened his eyes and blinked, so that the indistinct, blurry silhouette eventually acquired the outlines of his friend. It was already night outside and the ward was immersed in a light twilight, illuminated only by a small table lamp and the light of a monitor of numerous equipment. Eddie looked tired, with a small fresh scratch near his eyebrow.

“Eddie, it's late...” Buck tried to say in a hoarse, quiet voice, but was gently interrupted by Eddie, who stopped him with a light pat on the shoulder.

“Here, take this,” he said, holding out a glass of water with a straw sticking out.

It took Buck a few seconds to really understand what kind of incomprehensible cylindrical object was being handed to him. But when the right points in his head connected, he nodded slightly and took the water, taking a few small sips. And although the uninvited memory of how he choked earlier, when Maddie was here, made him slightly tense, the whole process went without trouble.

The water really softened the irritation in the throat and made it possible to speak much more confidently, “It's late, why are you here?” he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

“How could I leave you alone?” Eddie smiled gently, putting the glass of water on the bedside table, “By the way, one of your friends was very sorry that it was time for him to go to bed and insisted that I give you this,” he said, taking out a rather large teddy bear from somewhere below. The bear, the soft color of coffee with milk, was dressed in a firefighter's outfit, and on his head was a soft, knitted helmet with the number 118.

Buck smiled broadly and blinked once more to get a better look at the gift, carefully stretched out his hands to take it.

To the touch, the bear turned out to be much softer and more pleasant than it looked. The young man slightly lifted the toy above him, carefully examining it. Shiny beady blue eyes hinted quite accurately who exactly this teddy bear was portraying. A single tear rolled gently down Buck's cheek as he grinned broadly, clutching the toy to him. And if someone asks, he will say that it's the drugs that are to blame for how his emotions decided to come out a little.

“Thank you,” he said softly, but much more confidently, returning his gaze to his friend. “Thank you for coming and for the bear. He's really beautiful.”

Eddie also smiled gently as he carefully reached for the staff call button. He was very clearly instructed that he would need to call the doctors as soon as Buck woke up. “Don't mention it. The main thing is that you feel better”

“It will be for me,” he admitted, slightly squeezing the soft toy in his hands, “Aren't visits at such a late hour forbidden?” he decided to ask, really understanding. how late it is.

"It's not too late yet,” Eddie confirmed, “but Meredith made an agreement and I was allowed to stay all night,” he explained, lightly patting the armrests on the chair.

“Meredith?”Buck was surprised, “Have you already decided to make friends against me?” he asked as a joke

Eddie giggled a little, “Not against you,” he corrected, “For you. She's a really good person. Christopher was delighted with the acquaintance”

And it was true. And although Carla's story about the promise that the doctor made to Christopher raised some doubts, they were quickly calmed down. Even the fact that he is here is largely due to Dr. Gray, who went against the rules for the sake of Buck. So he really believed that this promise had weight.

“Eddie, what happened?”  Suddenly, changing his tone from light to worried, Buck asked, really noticing a fresh cut above his friend's eyebrow, slightly covered with a butterfly patch. “Are you hurt?”

“I'm fine,” Eddie hastened to reassure him, “I didn't notice the obstacle a little,” he said. And it wasn't exactly a lie, so the guilt wasn't as strong.

“Are you sure?” Buck asked anxiously, “I just wanted to talk to you about...”

But he couldn't finish the sentence. The sliding doors to the ward opened and Doctors Hunt and Torres appeared, responding to the signal given by Eddie earlier.

“I have to say that you slept a lot longer than expected,” Callie said, really not noticing that the guys were in the middle of the dialogue, “How are you feeling?”

“Nothing unusual. Everything is fine,” the young man replied with an already familiar phrase, which made Eddie snort a little, because obviously this is not the case.

“Buck,” Hunt said sternly, “We all know that's not true. Does it hurt somewhere?” he asked, coming closer to the devices located by the bed.

Buck took a small breath, “My head hurts a little. And all the muscles, like I was running a marathon,” he admitted, having no other options.

While Callie carefully approached the leg to check the stitches, Owen smiled slightly and nodded, pressed a few buttons on the devices. “It'll be a little easier this way,” he said, “How's your leg?”

“The seam is pulling a little, but nothing unusual,” Buck said honestly. Now he was able to pay attention to his leg. Surprisingly, there was no cast. Only one, neat, even incision slightly covered with a couple of layers of bandages. He expected that this time he would also have to experience difficulties with movement in the near future, but apparently this is not the case.

“Everything looks good,” Torres stated after finishing the examination, “The day after tomorrow you can load your leg as much as you feel comfortable,” she explained, which pleased Buck, “Everything went well. We adjusted the equipment to reduce the risk of blood clots and did a full scan. Well, they took samples, of course”

“Yes, it couldn't be better,” Hunt added, “I'm flying to Seattle tomorrow and I'll take tissue samples with me. We will start growing a new implant as soon as possible”

This was really very good news, making Buck smile. Eddie also looked happy with the good news, even though he had heard it before. He put his hand on Buck's shoulder and squeezed it slightly, nonverbally congratulating him on a successful operation. Fortunately, he managed to distract him long enough for him to wait for the doctors before asking questions about the operation.

“Do I still have to drink anticoagulants?” Buck asked, realizing that they had managed to completely fix it.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Callie admitted, “But we will reduce the dosage. You will start taking them in a couple of days and stop a couple of days before the second operation,” she explained, “The risks of blood clots should now be much less, so we will be able to carry out subsequent operations faster. But we still want to be safe and do a CT scan tomorrow”

“That's good,” Buck said, lightly squeezing the teddy bear in his hands. They had really succeeded, and this now made him worry about his already imminent trip to Seattle much more.

“Or you can not take them at all if you plan to stay in the hospital all this time,” Hunt suggested, noticing a slight doubt on the part of the young man.

“Oh no, he won't,” Eddie interjected, “He can't stand hospitals.”

Buck snorted involuntarily at the realization of how right Eddie was. He was really tired of all this.

“Well, then let's go according to the original plan,” Callie said, “If you have no more questions, you have a visitor from the LAFD, we can send him away or invite him if you want.”

Buck exchanged an embarrassed glance with Eddie. It was already quite late, so why was someone from the department waiting for him? Diaz just shrugged slightly, having no idea what it might be about.

“Uh... give us 10 minutes,” Buck said, “and then let him come in.”

He definitely remembered that he and Eddie needed to discuss something. But it would be rude to send this person back, since he has been waiting for quite a long time. Besides, he was really interested in what he wanted to say.

“Okay,” Torres agreed, “If you feel pain, feel free to call a nurse.”

“We'll be around,” Hunt added, “Have a nice rest,” he said, smiling as he and Callie headed for the exit, eventually leaving the friends alone.

“Buck, I don't know what this man from the department wants,” Eddie said as soon as the doors closed.

“It doesn't matter, Eddie,” Buck retorted, “I wanted to talk about you,” he said, carefully laying the toy bear next to him so that he wouldn't interfere with them.

“About me?” Diaz was surprised, “I'm fine, I told you...”

“I'm worried, Eddie.” Buck interrupted him, “Christopher is worried about you.”

Eddie closed his jaw with a snap and inhaled deeply through his nose. Of course, it was to be expected that Chris would notice how nervous he was lately. He just didn't expect it to happen so quickly, although the very fact that he had to think about it was a serious sting in his heart. What kind of father is he if he makes his son worry about him? Not to mention what an example he shows.

“I'm not trying to judge you,” Buck continued, “And I'm terribly sorry that I couldn't have noticed it myself earlier, but you can't keep hoarding it all inside. Sooner or later you can explode”

Eddie involuntarily snorted, because he had already heard this phrase today, “Bosco told me the same thing this morning,” he admitted, “She even suggested that I feel in street fights to ‘Relieve stress,’” he said, enclosing the last phrase in air quotes.

“I have no idea who this Bosco is,” Buck said, frowning, “but I hope you refused.”

“She was sent to us for a temporary replacement after their station was destroyed by the tsunami. And of course I refused...” Eddie replied, slightly averting his gaze to the side. And if earlier he could console himself that he was only half lying, it was already a full-fledged, undisguised lie. Just a few hours ago, he was very intensely stuffing the face of some stranger at some dump. And the worst thing is, it really helped.

“Eddie..” Buck stretched out, clearly not believing the statements of a friend, “I'm sorry, I should have been there..”

“Stop,” Eddie interrupted, “It's not your fault. God, Buck, you don't owe me anything. I'm an adult, I have to deal with this myself,” he said, taking a deep breath.

“Does this mean that I also have to deal with my problems by myself?” Buck asked in a low, slightly drooping voice.

And this, frankly, not entirely honest technique seems to have worked. “God, no!” Eddie was indignant, “I didn't mean that, I'm sorry,” he said, gradually realizing how hypocritical he sounded a little earlier, “You can always count on my help. I promised”

“Why do you think you don't deserve help yourself?” Buck asked, trying to lead his friend to the right idea.

“I don't know,” Eddie had to admit regretfully, “But I can see that therapy is helping Chris a lot,” he said in an attempt to quickly change the subject, “And I think you could try.”

Buck sighed heavily. He definitely saw this as very strange, he should note, attempt to change the subject. But maybe it's even in his favor. “I agree to try it if you go yourself,” he said. And although his previous experience with a therapist was very dubious, to put it mildly, he is ready to try again for the sake of his friend.

“Buck.. I don't think that...” Eddie tried to justify himself, but realized that he didn't even have a good enough reason to refuse

“You said it yourself that it helps,” Buck retorted, “Why not try it? We can try to find a suitable therapist if you don't like the ones the department gives you.”

“I don't know..” Eddie replied, starting to get a little angry at himself for driving himself into this trap. “I think I could...”

But a knock on the door interrupted him. Both friends immediately paid attention to the entrance, completely forgetting that the representative of the department was planning to come in. A second later, the door opened and two people entered the room. One doctor whom neither Eddie nor Buck had seen before and a representative of the department. A rather tall man in the uniform of a fire marshal.

“Mr. Buckley, it's nice to see that you're alright,” he said with a slight smile, “You must not remember me. My name is Thomas, we met earlier when we were processing insurance documents. I am responsible for all insurance payments,” the man explained.

The doctor, also a man, didn't say anything and just watched. Buck was slightly alarmed by the late visit of the person in charge of insurance payments. He looked at Eddie, but Eddie looked just as surprised.

“Well, I understand that you need a rest, so let's get down to business,” Thomas said, taking out several papers from his briefcase and handing them to Buck, “Unfortunately, I have to inform you that the department will not be able to cover your medical bills during your stay at LA General, since your injury is not related to original and not received during the performance of official duties,” he said dryly.

“What?!” Eddie was indignant, getting up from his chair, ”This is bullshit!”

“Eddie, don't,” Buck held him back, urging him to sit back down with his hand, “It's not scary, I still have insurance”

The doctor cleared his throat, “I'm just here on this issue,” he said, “I'm the head doctor here at LA General, Dr. Rose,” the doctor introduced himself.

Eddie, though reluctantly, sat back down, not wanting to start proceedings right here, so as not to create an extra cause for concern for Buck.

“The fact is that as soon as we received a notification from the department, we contacted your insurance company,” the chief continued to explain, “All operations on your insurance were frozen for some reason”

“What does this mean?” Surprised, Buck asked, skimming through the papers that the department representative handed him, while the anxiety from the situation gradually grew more and more in his chest

“This means that they will not be able to pay the bills,” the doctor explained, “You will also continue to receive all the necessary assistance, but we will be forced to issue an invoice after your discharge”

Eddie exhaled sharply through his nostrils, but said nothing. Buck swallowed nervously, already calculating that for two operations and a bunch of additional procedures, the amount is unlikely to contain more zeros than he can afford for disability benefits.

“Your operation today was performed on the Gray-Sloan balance, so you will receive the bill from them,” the doctor continued, since there were no questions, “Anyway, I recommend that you contact your insurance company and find out why your insurance was frozen. Maybe it's just a mistake.”

“If you have no more questions, we will leave you,” Thomas added, “You will also always be able to contact us on this phone,” he said and handed a small business card. “Sorry about what happened there”

Eddie wanted to recommend that they both shove their regrets up their asses, but again restrained himself, realizing that this simple clerk would hardly be able to do something. He was simply sent to inform about the decision already made. Buck didn't say anything and just looked at the papers in his hands, not even really reading them.

The doctor and the representative of the department soon said goodbye, wishing a speedy recovery, and hurried away. “Buck, how are you?" Diaz asked, carefully placing his hand on his friend's shoulder.

Buck didn't react for a few seconds, but finally slowly turned around and, surprisingly for himself, calmly said, “I'm bankrupt now, Eddie.”

Chapter 6: Two steps back; part 1

Summary:

The situation is becoming more and more complicated and confusing for everyone, involving the Gray-Sloan leadership. But Buck has a plan and he's trying to implement it

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Over the past couple of days after the operation on his leg, Buck was able to fully realize that an already very unpleasant pastime in the hospital could turn into a real hell when he began to count the cost of each bag of fluids, each injection of drugs, each change of bandages. God forbid, before that he did not even think that even replacing the urinal costs money.

Desperate attempts to find out something from the insurance company by phone did not lead to anything. The only thing he managed to find out is that he needs to personally arrive at the office, since they do not have the technical ability to confirm the identity on the phone, respectively, they have no right to disclose anything.

The preliminary calculation of the cost of being in the hospital, taking into account all the procedures performed, including at least one full-fledged emergency operation, has repeatedly exceeded not only current expenses, but also completely ate up almost all the savings available to him, accumulated over the years of living in Los Angeles.

And although Dr. Gray was really convincing in her assurances that they would help resolve this whole incomprehensible situation, even the absence of a bill from Gray-Sloan right now does not brighten up the whole situation. The strongest blow for Buck was the fact that until the current issue with insurance payments is resolved, he will not be able to go to Seattle and, accordingly, the entire plan for two more operations and return to work has been postponed for an unknown period. At least he really tried to think that this was just a postponement, and not a cross on the only hope of returning to active duty.

All this put pressure on him with a huge tangle of worries, forcing him to constantly fidget in an attempt to somehow get rid of the disgusting feeling in his stomach and itching under the skin. Sleeping fitfully also doesn't help healing at all, so the plan was very simple: ask Maddie to bring clothes, referring to the fact that hospital clothes look more like a very large sheet than real clothes. Bypassing Dr. Gray and Torres, write a refusal of hospitalization, coordinating everything directly with the head physician. Then go directly to the insurance company's office on Uber.

Further steps were not really in Buck's mind right now, but he understood that he would need to deal with the issue of termination of the contract for his apartment and somehow meet with Bobby to resolve all issues with the department. And the prospect of being homeless for some reason worried him much less than the second point, with which there were special difficulties, since according to the plan no one was supposed to know that he was not in the hospital. And the time to leave the hospital was specially chosen so that Christopher was at school, and Eddie and Maddie were on twenty-four-hour shifts at the same time, giving Buck enough time to come up with something after he received an adequate response from the insurance company.

This plan really seemed reliable to Buck while he was holding the teddy bear tightly in his hands, and the nurse was taking him on a wheelchair to the exit, but as soon as they stopped in the central hall, the most obvious drawback of the whole grand escape plan suddenly became visible: he does not have a crutch, and without it he will not go far. However, he only needed to walk through the hall to the Uber car. He can do it.

Buck smiled cautiously at the nurse and very carefully got up from the wheelchair, leaning with one hand on the armrest, almost without transferring weight to the sick leg. Fortunately, he didn't have any other things with him besides the bear that Chris had given him, otherwise it would have been an additional difficulty.

“Are you sure you don't need help?” The nurse asked cautiously, watching as the young man slowly stood up, immediately leaning against the nearest wall.

“I'm sure!” Buck answered briefly, trying to squeeze out a smile, “Thanks for the ride, then I'll do it myself. It's not far here,” he said, pointing his finger in the direction of the main entrance, still holding on to the wall with his other hand.

“Can someone meet you?” the nurse has already clarified much more worriedly.

“I'm already being met,” he quickly answered the first thing that came to mind, “My aunt is waiting for me in the car,” he continued to lie, internally wincing at how ridiculous it sounded even to his own ears, “She just has agoraphobia and she won't be able to come here.”

“Well...” the nurse said slowly, hardly believing everything that was said, “Let me take you to your…” she paused a little, “Aunt with agoraphobia”

“Oh, there's really no need for that,” Buck politely refused, “I'll manage it, thank you again.” 

“And yet I would like to...” the nurse tried to insist, but was interrupted:

“Buck, why haven't you ever told us about your Aunt before?” Dr. Torres' voice came from somewhere behind him, which made Buck turn around sharply. Unfortunately, this maneuver also caused him to awkwardly shift his weight onto his sore leg.

Standing in front of him was Callie, whose expression was telling enough that she wasn't at all surprised to find him here in an attempt to escape. Meredith was also standing there, her arms crossed over her chest, looking at Buck intently, when her eyebrows slightly raised in disapproval. 

“I just...” he tried to come up with an excuse, and a new plan, when the old one obviously collapsed. But the pain in his leg from the sloppy movement finally broke through the veil of painkillers, forcing Buck to make a heavy, prolonged groan, closing his eyes and bending slightly to lean harder against the wall.

“God, Buck!” Callie said quickly, noticing that the young man was in pain and hurried to take a step forward to be closer. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she gently helped him back into the wheelchair, “That's it. Exhale” she instructed in a soft voice.

During this time, Gray walked around the two of them in two quick steps, “Thank you, we'll go on ourselves,” she quietly instructed the nurse, who was watching everything a little bewildered. The nurse lowered her arms of the wheelchair and took a careful step back, allowing the doctor to take control.

Buck followed the doctor's command and gently released the air from his lungs, which he didn't even realize he had held. The pain went away pretty quickly. He didn't even think that after such a long stay in the hospital, he could already forget how to walk properly so as not to cause pain attacks.

After making sure that everything was in order, Torres nodded slightly and took a step to the side. Meredith immediately started pushing the wheelchair, taking them away, leaving the nurse somewhere behind in complete disbelief.

“Where did you take me?” Buck asked indignantly, looking around but making no attempt to get up. Jumping out of a moving object immediately after a not very pleasant reminder of its limitations would be a really bad decision, even for him.

“Back to the ward,” Meredith replied, continuing to push the wheelchair, “You have a huge incision on your leg, still unhealed stitches on your side, broken ribs and a bruised lung.” In a very condemnatory tone, she listed all of Buck's injuries, forcing him to lower his gaze to the floor more and more, “I'm not saying that you only have a piece of the skull...”

“I got it!” Buck stopped her, “But I was discharged, you can't return me to the ward,” he said and took the crumpled papers out of his pocket, handed them to the doctors.

Meredith stopped the wheelchair with a quick glance at Callie, who took the papers and read them briefly. She took a deep breath, “Refusal of hospitalization, accepted by the chief physician,” she commented and handed the papers to a colleague.

Gray took the papers and also quickly looked through, “No one taught him that it's bad form to discharge patients without warning the attending physician?” she muttered and crumpled up the papers, threw them into the nearest trash.

“Hey! Those were my papers!” Buck protested, turning slightly in his chair to look at Meredith.

She let out a heavy breath and circled the chair, slightly crouched down to be face to face with the young man. “Buck, you can't leave now, it's dangerous.” Slowly, in a calm voice, she said, “You may get an infection, and then we will have to undergo a second operation.”

“There will be no second operation,” Buck protested indignantly, “I'm not even sure I'll have the money to buy normal food” He declared, slightly breaking down in his voice, “I will never be able to pay for these operations, let alone a month of rehabilitation in Gray Sloan.”

“Buck, it's not that bad,” Meredith said carefully, gently placing her hand on the young man's arm, “I've already found a lawyer, we'll help you deal with the insurance. It's probably just a ridiculous mistake.”

Buck turned slightly, looking away, although he did not take the doctor's hand off his arm. “The insurance company will cover the current accounts from LA General only by a court decision,” he said quietly, “The insurance was already frozen a few days before the tsunami, so by law they don't owe me anything,” he swallowed nervously, “I read about it and couldn't stay here anymore... All these accounts in any case in case of paying me in full”

“So we'll sue the insurance company,” Gray said firmly, “And the LAFD, if necessary.”

This caused Buck to flinch slightly and abruptly return his gaze to Meredith. The firmness in her expression only convinced him once again that she wasn't joking. “I don't have money for a lawyer, Meredith,” he countered, “And even if we win the case, the insurance doesn't cover experimental surgeries,” he took another deep breath, “The department won't pay for it either. Especially if I sue them. If I can even get back to work after that...”

Meredith pulled her lips into a thin line and inhaled deeply through her nose. They were supposed to discuss this in a few days with a lawyer, not like this in the lobby of the hospital. Letting Buck go right now is pretty risky, but there really isn't much she can offer right now to convince him to stay. But she can do something.

“Then we'll do it pro bono,” she said in the same firm voice

“Will we do it?” Callie asked in a half-whisper, looking at her colleague in amazement. Buck at this time looked at least stunned by such a statement, clearly not believing what was said. The department also promised him that they would support him in everything, and that's how it ended.

“Damn it, I'm a board member of the hospital, of course we can,” Meredith replied loudly enough, seeing the skepticism on the face of the young man opposite. “But we have to stick to the schedule, Buck, you have to stay in the hospital for at least a couple more days,” she added, much quieter and calmer.

Callie didn't say anything, just nodded slightly, slowly returning her gaze to Buck. If Meredith Grey has decided to do something, she will turn all the walls on the way to dust, but she will get her way.

“I can't...” Buck said slowly, “I can't do this anymore, Meredith, I can't rely on your word alone,” he explained, “I'm sorry if I offended you both, but I can't accept this...”

“No hard feelings,” Callie said, “But let us prove to you that these are not just empty words, we really want to help.”

“At least let us call someone to pick you up,” Gray added, sighing slightly at the realization that they definitely wouldn't be able to convince Buck to stay in the hospital right now. “You need someone to look after you”

And Buck really wants to believe. But he was tired. Tired to the core. This endless struggle has already taken all the strength out of him, leaving only a limp, tramadol-stuffed shell of himself. Even the department has already rejected it as too expensive a burden. How soon will everyone else, including Dr. Grey, realize there's nothing left to fight for? It seemed to him already absolutely inevitable.

He took a not too deep breath, remembering the healing ribs, “Okay...” he whispered slowly, looking away. “I still won't be able to escape even if I want to.”

Meredith smiled slightly, “Thank you,” she also replied softly and carefully got to her feet, “In the meantime, let's take you to a quieter place.”

 


 

Eddie carefully placed the cup filled with coffee on the table and pushed it slightly towards Hen, who was busy reading a new book. The paramedic looked up from her book and cautiously looked over her glasses at her colleague. Diaz smiled modestly, “I wanted to apologize for yelling at you last shift,” he said, slightly pulling out a chair from behind the table, “Do you mind if I sit down?”

Hen smiled gently in response, “Of course,” she said softly, putting the book aside and taking the coffee offered to her from the table. “Actually, you were right,” she added, taking a few slow sips of fresh, hot, incredibly fragrant coffee.

The morning was really slow. And the weather corresponded to this. Despite the scorching sun, a light, cool wind came from the ocean. The main gate of the fire station was open, allowing the wind to penetrate inside, giving everyone a feeling of freshness. They still haven't received a single call and the lack of the usual dose of adrenaline affected them in a very strange way, forcing everyone to drink more and more coffee. But this tart, with hints of chocolate and cinnamon, the smell was a wonderful addition to their surprisingly calm atmosphere.

Eddie carefully, slightly sideways, sat down on a chair next to Hen and folded his hands around his own cup of coffee. “I still shouldn't have snapped at you,” he said, taking a light breath.

“It's really hard for me to imagine how much has fallen on you right now,” Hen tried to justify her friend in his own eyes, “And I really should have visited Buck more often,” she admitted, taking another sip of coffee as an opportunity to think a little more about what she would say, “After he I was in the hospital for the last time, it seemed to me that he needed a little more space”

Eddie frowned uncomfortably as a shiver involuntarily ran over his skin. He remembers quite clearly how abandoned Buck felt and how hard he endures separation from the team as a whole. More space between him and the team is the last thing he wanted. And of course, Eddie's own suspension played a significant role here in many ways, but he had a promise from Maddie that she was able to take care of her brother's well-being. And while that sounds like a very bad excuse even in his own head, the terrible truth was that Maddie didn't keep that promise.

“What made you think that?” Eddie asked cautiously, carefully looking into his colleague's eyes.

“It's hard to say now,” after a moment's pause, Hen replied evasively, “How is he now? I heard about the problems with insurance”

Eddie frowned even harder, as if realizing that Hen was hiding something and trying to change the subject. But he definitely didn't want to start another argument right now, so he took another sip of coffee and decided to accept a change of topic, making a mental note to come back to this later.

“Physical? Everything is relatively good. He looks and feels much better,” he replied.

“And emotionally? Hen clarified, since Eddie's words obviously implied the second part

Diaz just took a deep breath. He doesn't know how much Buck told Hen during their phone conversations and doesn't feel right to share what Buck himself has entrusted to him. And what even could he say?

“How would you feel if your only hope of returning to your favorite life job was gradually fading?” Instead, he asked.

Hen sucked in a breath and didn't answer. And that may have been a good thing. Eddie wasn't sure if he would be able to stick to his desire not to start arguments if he heard again that Buck needed to accept that he couldn't come back.

After a few seconds, Wilson still opened her mouth to answer something, but was interrupted by Lena Bosco's loud voice: “Diaz, can I kidnap you for a couple of minutes? It's important”

Hen shut her jaw, swallowing all her words and turned to look at Lena, who was approaching them from the direction of the stairs.

“I'm sorry, but we're in the middle of a conversation here,” Eddie replied, boring Bosco with his eyes

“It's okay, Eddie,” Hen interrupted, “We can talk later. Go if it's important”

“Okay,” Diaz said softly, carefully getting up from his chair, “However, I think you should discuss all this with Buck, not with me,” he added in a half-whisper, leaning slightly towards Hen.

She only nodded affirmatively, smiling slightly sadly at the corners of her lips. “I'll call him,” she said, “Thank you.”

Eddie nodded his head slightly and, taking his cup of coffee, came closer to Bosco, “I'm listening carefully,” he said, taking a couple more sips from the cup when he got closer.

Lena took a few steps to the side, closer to the stairs, to create a distance between them and Hen at the dining table and the rest of the colleagues scattered around the loft.

“Everyone here is talking a lot about Buckley,” Bosco commented, “I can't wait to meet him in person,” she said, slightly grinning.

“Let's get to the point, please,” Eddie said rather sharply. If he was in doubt about discussing it with Hen, Bosco was definitely the last person he would ever want to share anything about Buck with.

“Okay, okay. Don't boil,” Lena reassured him, slightly holding out her palms in a protective gesture, “I wanted to know if you were in business today?” Is that why you changed your shift to a shorter one?“ she asked.

“What?” Eddie asked in bewilderment, ”I changed shifts because I want to spend the evening with my son.”

Bosco raised her eyebrows slightly, “And by spending time with your son, do you mean going to the hospital to visit Buckley?”

Eddie let the air out through his nose, “It's none of your business,” he said sharply, wanting to stop all this speculation, “I'm not meddling in your business, so please keep your shit away from me.”

“Wow, that's not what I meant,” Lena tried to justify herself, “But you said that it helped you after the last time. Are you sure you want to bring all this anger home?”

And again, the scariest thing was that it really helped then. When the whole world is darkening on the sides. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins. He feels every muscle that tightens under the skin, feels the wind from every blow that passes by and the rush of endorphins from a successful dodge. Each blow carries a particle of all that anger that is accumulating somewhere inside. It seems that every breath during a fight brings relief. But he knew that Buck was right. This is not an option, and besides the fact that it can end very badly, Christopher, although he does not understand what his father is doing, he definitely sees something wrong. Eddie can't do this to his son, making him worry. Not to mention the fact that Buck himself is counting on him right now.

“I'm not doing this anymore,” Eddie said, cutting off all possible ways to continue this conversation.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the phone call interrupted him. Motioning Bosco to wait a minute, he pulled the phone out of his pocket with one hand and glanced at the screen. “This is Meredith,” he said softly to himself as a wave of anxiety gradually swept through his body.

“Who?” Lena asked, obviously having no idea who Meredith was and why Diaz, standing opposite, looked so scared.

“It's urgent. The conversation is over,” he answered Bosco, hurriedly stepping aside, simultaneously accepting the call and holding the phone to his ear. 

“Has something happened?" He asked worriedly as soon as the connection was established. He ignored the worried look from Hen and hurried to the kitchen, where there is no one now.

“Nothing wrong,” Gray replied from the other side of the line, “I hope I'm not bothering you too much. Are you not on call?”

“No, no. It's okay, I'm at the firehouse,” Diaz replied, slowly relaxing as he received confirmation that everything was fine. And the doctor's tone sounded very calm. “And what happened anyway?” nevertheless, he hastened to clarify, putting a cup of coffee in the sink in the kitchen

Meredith took a deep breath, which couldn't have been heard by Eddie on the phone, “Buck checked out of the hospital bypassing Callie and me,” she said, “And tried to escape by Uber.”

Eddie wasn't surprised by this development. Buck has repeatedly expressed the opinion that he needs to leave the hospital as soon as possible and start dealing with all the bills. Up to a certain point, he was able to be persuaded to stay, but apparently, as usual, he decided to go ahead.

“You intercepted him, as I understand it?” Diaz asked, cautiously scanning the area around in search of the captain.

“Yes,” Meredith confirmed, “But we can't put him back in the ward. I would take him to a hotel and handcuff him to a battery, but I don't think the ethics committee would approve of such an approach,” she added, “Besides, there are no batteries here in Los Angeles”

Eddie sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, “I'll try to ask Bobby off and come. And I can't promise that I won't handcuff him to the battery.”

“The main thing is that he should be supervised.” Grey replied, “I'll tell you more when you're here.”

“Good. Thanks for calling,” Eddie thanked

“Thank you ,” Gray said in response, “Drive carefully. We'll keep an eye on him for now. See you soon”

Diaz briefly thanked Meredith again and after finishing the call hurried to Bobby, whom he managed to see down by the truck. 

“It's from the hospital. It's all right, but I need to get there,” he briefly gave an answer to Hen's questioning, worried look, quickly passing by in the direction of the stairs.

Hen didn't have time to say anything, as Eddie was at the bottom of the stairs in a few seconds. Rapid response training and memorized routes were useful not only during an alarm.

“Bobby!” He shouted in advance, forcing the captain to take his mind off things and turn to him, “I got a call from the hospital,” Eddie added.

Bobby sighed and put the tablet he was holding aside, “Is Buck all right?” he asked anxiously, when Diaz just came up to him.

“He's fine, but I need to be there right now,” Eddie explained briefly, “I'll be back as soon as everything is sorted out.”

“What's wrong, Eddie?” the captain insisted. “Maybe you need my help?”

“Help the department solve the issue so that they don't treat Buck as useless garbage,” he said rather rudely, but quite rightly.

“Eddie, we've already discussed this, they don't...” Bobby tried to explain, but was interrupted:

“Buck's insurance company also refused to pay for the treatment,” he said, despite the fact that Buck asked not to do so. 

But now Buck is putting his life in danger by refusing medical care, so Eddie didn't have much choice, “He can't stay in the hospital anymore. I'll pick him up, but we both know it's too early for him to leave the hospital,” he explained, hoping that Bobby would be able to put more pressure on the department so that Buck could calmly recover from the effects of the tsunami.

“What?” Bobby asked in amazement, ”Why? They can't just leave him...”

“I don't know why, Bobby,” Eddie interrupted him rather abruptly, “You asked how you could help. You can force the department to fulfill the obligations they have assumed,” he explained, “Can I go pick up Buck?”

The captain looked really stunned by the news. He lowered his gaze and awkwardly cleared his throat, “Yes, of course you can go,” he said, a little quieter than usual, “Call if you need more time.”

Not wanting to waste any more seconds, he nodded to Bobby with slight gratitude and hurried off to the hospital.

Eddie didn't even bother to change, but went straight to his car, grabbing the keys from the locker room on the way. And although it didn't take long to get to the hospital, since the morning rush hour had long since ended, he was constantly tormented by doubts about the decision to tell Bobby about the insurance situation. Buck was guided by the fact that it makes no sense for him to involve the others in this, while they don't even really know what exactly is going on. As the head doctor said at the time, it could just be a mistake, and making others worry once again would not be the best solution.

And Eddie can understand that. At least he can try to understand it, but when they managed to find out that the insurance had been frozen for a long time, long before the decision was made by the department, any reason not to report this problem to others, especially Bobby, who can somehow influence the department through the chief, lost all meaning.

Anyway, he just had to accept the fact that had happened and hope that Buck would react well enough. At least it seems to have really touched the captain and he can really try to influence the decision.

But the whole situation looked like a betrayal in Eddie's eyes. He himself witnessed how the chief, when he visited the fire department shortly after the ill-fated explosion of the fire truck, assured Bobby that the department would do everything in their power to help Buck recover and would support him to the end, regardless of what decision he would make regarding further duty.

The memory of this only made Eddie feel even more burning anger, boil in his chest and squeeze the steering wheel harder. But he has already arrived, so there is no more time for further immersion in thoughts.

Quickly finding a parking spot, Diaz closed the car door a little harder than necessary and walked briskly to the main entrance. Passing through the sliding glass doors, he quickly scanned the room with his eyes. Not noticing any signs of Buck or Dr. Gray, he took a couple of steps to the front desk, wanting to ask where they could be found. But the memory of how the appeal to the nurse behind the counter ended that very first time when he came here with Bobby, quickly put this thought aside. Instead, he took a deep breath and looked around once more, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“Eddie, hi,” Meredith's soft voice came from somewhere over his shoulder.

Eddie flinched slightly from surprise and quickly turned to the source of the sound, quickly looking at Dr. Gray. She was dressed in simple jeans and a light beige sweater with a low collar. Her hair was loose and gently fell over her left shoulder, gently shimmering in the rays of the sun falling through the large windows. No medical robes, no bathrobe. This largely explains why he didn't notice her at all. Until that moment, he could not even imagine that he would be able to meet doctors in civilian clothes.

“Hi, Meredith,” he greeted softly, carefully putting the phone back in his pocket. “I didn't recognize you.”

“This happens periodically,” she replied with a soft smile, “Come on, Callie and Buck are waiting for us in the waiting room. I decided to meet you,” she offered and gestured in the direction.

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. He nodded affirmatively and followed in the direction indicated. Soon they found themselves in a small nook equipped with a pair of vending machines and upholstered chairs. Callie was sitting on one of them, also in civilian clothes, drinking coffee and talking quietly to Buck about something. Buck himself was huddled next to her, hugging a teddy bear with one hand. It would be very nice if he didn't look so upset and tense.

As soon as Buck noticed Eddie coming around the corner with Meredith, he sighed heavily and slightly looked away, “You didn't have to call anyone, I told you everyone was working..” He said, addressing Callie, clearly noticing that Eddie was wearing his work uniform. However, he already knew in advance that everyone was working.

“Buck, I'm here because I want to be here,” Eddie interrupted, coming a little closer.

“I don't need help,” Buck replied sharply, “I would drive myself to the insurance company office and then go home,” he explained, “Everything would be fine, I'm not as helpless as you think”

Eddie sighed heavily and squatted down slightly directly in front of Buck to look him in the eye. “No one thinks you're helpless,” he assured his friend without interrupting eye contact. “I understand your desire to leave the hospital as soon as possible. And you could talk to me, we would figure out how to do it safely.”

“I'm not going to bang my head against the nearest pole, I know what can be done and what can't be done,” Buck protested, “Besides, it's not worth it to distract you from work.”

“Buck, that's not the point,” Meredith interjected. She took a small breath before continuing, “Do you know why we are taught never to make promises to a patient? Or, in your case, the victims”

Buckley was slightly embarrassed, not really understanding what this was about now. Unlike Eddie and Callie, who both nodded slightly, catching the direction of thoughts. 

However, after a couple of seconds, “Because we can't control everything” Buck answered the question briefly and clearly, and understanding gradually began to be reflected in his eyes.

Meredith smiled slightly, catching a small grateful look from Eddie, “Then why do you think you can control everything around yourself?” she asked.

Buck opened his mouth and didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, trying to come up with a sufficiently weighty and at the same time truthful answer, “I don't know..” in the end, he said, because it was the pure truth. “I just can't do anything anymore, I need to deal with this right now...” he added.

“And we'll help you to deal with this,” Callie chimed in, “just let us make sure you're being looked after. Just in case”

“Our promise to help was real, Buck,” Meredith confirmed, “We're staying here in Los Angeles for now. And we'll stay as long as it takes to help you to deal with this.”

“You shouldn't...” Buckley tried to protest, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Eddie stopped him by gently placing his hand on his shoulder.

“We want to. This is our own choice,” Gray tried to reassure him, “I will contact our boss soon and we will make a plan. We'll meet you later in the evening.”

“I'll send you the address,” Eddie offered, not giving his friend the opportunity to protest again. “Thank you. Once again,” he added, meeting the eyes of both doctors in turn.

“Will you say thank you when we have successfully performed the operation,” Callie answered him, carefully rising from her chair, “Will you cope?” she asked, glancing at Buck, who looked upset but seemed at least a little relaxed.

“Yes, everything will be fine,” Eddie confirmed, also carefully getting to his feet.

“I almost forgot,” Meredith said, getting to her feet and heading for the main hall, “I'll be right back, wait a minute,” she added before disappearing around the corner. Eddie slowly shifted his gaze to Callie, but she just shrugged her shoulders in confusion.

“Don't even look at me,” Buck replied when Eddie looked at him questioningly, “I have no idea about that” 

However, after a couple of seconds, Dr. Gray returned, carrying a cane in her hands. “You once said that you lost yours during the tsunami,” she said, handing the object to Buck.

It was a simple wooden cane with a small plastic handle. He doesn't really remember at what point in the past he gave up crutches in favor of a cane, but it turned out to be really convenient and much more compact. Yes, and this was really enough to give enough support. After all, a lot of operations were not quite just like that.

“This is… I don't know what to say..” he muttered, carefully examining the cane in his hands. It was simple, but for some reason it touched something in his heart. Maybe they really care about him?

“Don't say anything,” Meredith replied, “Just take it. Because you can't jump on one leg because of a concussion.”

Buck chuckled slightly, smiling a little at the corners of his lips, “Concussion? Seriously? Is that the least of your worries?” He was jokingly indignant.

“A bunch of stitches and a detached skull fragment is also a pretty significant reason, yes,” Gray played along.

“Good. No jumping on one leg. We understood that,” Eddie added, “What other recommendations will there be?”

“He will need to change the bandage on his stomach and leg once a day for another couple of days,” Meredith explained, changing her tone to a more serious one, “In general, we have already told Buck everything.”

“Yes, I wrote it all down,” Buck intervened, lightly patting the pocket of his jeans, where, obviously, there was a piece of paper with recommendations, “I can handle it.”

“If anything, call me or Callie” Gray continued, ”Any unusual pains or sensations. Any redness around the seams...”

“I really wrote it all down,” Buck interrupted her

“You're going to have to give this piece of paper to me,” Eddie said, fixing Buck with a look, informing him of the seriousness of his demands.

“Okay, okay,” agreed Buck, “Well, can we go now?” he asked impatiently. The desire to leave the walls of the hospital already outweighed, it seems, everything else.

“Yes, you can,” Meredith confirmed, “I'll call in a couple of hours, so I'm not saying goodbye.” she said and caught another gratitude in Eddie's eyes, nodded slightly and headed for the exit.

“Here, this is my phone number,” Callie said, simultaneously sending Eddie a message on the phone, “Do not hesitate to contact me for any questions. A little later we will have to meet and check your leg,” she added, already addressing Buck.

“Okay, thanks,” Eddie replied, checking the message he received and saving the new number in his notebook. Torres also nodded back with a slight smile and went to the exit, catching up with Meredith.

Buck was already trying to get up, putting the teddy bear aside and leaning with both hands on the armrests. Eddie noticed it late, but when he saw it, Buck was already standing in front of him, resting one hand on his cane, barely touching the floor with his sore leg. “Could you take Mr. Bucky?”

“I'm sorry, what? Eddie asked, opening his eyes wide and slightly stammering with embarrassment, because he was not at all sure if he had heard correctly.

“Bear,” Buck explained, “His name is Mr. Bucky. And it was Chris who insisted on that name,” he added, laughing a little at how funny Eddie blushed.

“Aah..” Diaz stretched out, while the realization gradually came to him, “Yes, of course, I'll take it,” he quickly added and hurried to lift the bear from the chair. “Are you sure you don't need help getting to the car?”

“I'll try, okay?” Buck insisted. He would still have to re-understand how much weight he can put on a sore leg, he can't rely on others all the time.

“Good. But I'm here if anything,” Eddie agreed with him, wanting to respect his friend's desire for independence.

Buck took a deep breath, which made him wince a little from the tension in his chest. Broken ribs and a bruised lung were making themselves felt. But he took a small step, with his good leg, and then carefully, transferring the main weight of his body to the cane, he took a step with the second leg. A slight burning sensation in the area of the recent incision, to his relief, was the only thing he felt. Of course, there was always a slight numbness in the foot, but this was something he could work with. Taking another small breath, this time with relief, he hurried to take the next step.

Eddie tried not to move a step away if he suddenly had to catch Buck, but he seemed confident in his movements and judging by the expression on his face, he did not feel particularly uncomfortable. Slowly enough, but quite successfully, they finally reached the exit without saying a word.

And finally, stepping over the threshold of the hospital, Buck took in as much air as he was comfortable with and closed his eyes, turned slightly to face the sun. Soft rays warmed while a light, cool breeze gently touched the skin. “God, I've been dreaming about this for so long,” he said softly, allowing himself a couple of seconds of respite to enjoy the feeling of spaciousness that he had been deprived of for so long while in the hospital.

Eddie smiled slightly and gently patted Buck on the shoulder, “You chose a great day to escape from the hospital,” he said, “Not that I think you should run away from the hospital at all, but the weather is fine today”

“Hey, I didn't run away,” Buck protested, “I have official discharge documents,” he said, but after a second, smiling awkwardly, he added: “That is, I had documents..”

“It's still an escape,” Eddie said, slightly adjusting the teddy bear he was carrying under his arm, “Let's go, I parked here nearby,” he added, lightly slapping his friend twice on the shoulder.

Walking a few more feet to the car was already much easier for Buck when he finally got outside. They say that the walls heal, but right now it seemed to him that at least some strength returned to him after he could finally feel the fresh air and the warmth of the sun on his skin.

However, a few minutes after he was in the passenger seat in Eddie's car, fatigue finally took its toll. Once he could spend more than a day on his feet, run to the eighth floor with a full set of equipment on his shoulders and feel better. Now, a simple walk of a few dozen feet made him feel like he had dragged a cruise ship to the top of Mount Everest.

Light music on the radio, which Eddie turned on, a cool stream of air from the slightly open window and the soothing, monotonous noise of the engine. A slight numbness in his leg and a slight painful feeling of tension at the seams slowly receded as his eyelids became heavier and his breathing became slower. The pictures outside the window gradually became more and more blurry, and his own thoughts became more and more distant.

Apparently, it took some time before Eddie's worried voice rang out: “Hey, Buck, are you okay?" he asked and lightly tapped his knee

“Yes... yes.” Buck muttered a little indistinctly, rubbing his eyes with his hands, “I just… Tired,” he added, when he tried to blink to remove the veil of light sleep from his eyes.

“Sorry to wake you up,” Eddie apologized, carefully turning at the intersection, “You were quiet and I was worried...”

Clarity of vision gradually returned to Buck until the meaning of what his friend said actually reached his mind. A slight headache from intermittent daytime sleep also caught up with him, forcing him to let out a light groan and rub his temples lightly.

Eddie, noticing this, hurried to turn on the right turn signal and stop the car at the curb, “Are you okay? Nausea, dizziness?” He asked worriedly, turning his whole body around and extending his hand to his friend.

He gently took Buck by the chin and turned him to himself, “Look at me,” he instructed. Buck reluctantly obeyed, opening his eyes. “I'm fine. Just a headache from a short sleep,” he replied a little irritably.

“Look here,” Eddie continued to say, turning on the flashlight on his phone, intending to use it to check the reaction of the pupils.

“God, Eddie!” Buck protested, pushing his hand away from him, “Enough! I just fell asleep!”

He's just tired. It's been a hell of a terrible and exhausting day, just like the whole past week. The whole load of worries that had been accumulating inside since the department representative came to his room after the operation was added to the rest of the baggage that had accumulated over all the months after the explosion, making it really unaffordable for the drug-clouded Buck’s brain. Now, under the weight of all this, even the old plan to go to the insurance company office seems incredibly stupid to him. As, indeed, all the other decisions that he makes.

Eddie abruptly pulled back, inhaling deeply through his nose, “Buck, you recently had a serious traumatic brain injury, we have to...”

“Enough!” Buck shouted again, his voice breaking slightly, “Stop it, Eddie! I'm not porcelain, you don’t need to check my breathing every time I fall asleep!” he continued, turning away, continuing to press his palms on his eyes, but now in order not to let the unbidden tears spill.

He's tired of these damn tears spilling out of him like a damn fountain every time he feels at least some emotion. He was tired of feeling helpless. Weak. Useless. Someone everyone is running after and shaking over every awkward sneeze.

“Buck, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...” Eddie tried to calm him down in a calm, warm voice, “No one thinks you're porcelain”

In response, he only smiled wetly, “Do you believe it yourself?” he asked softly, taking a deep breath through his nose to calm down. “And don't call me that anymore…I don't feel like Buck anymore,” he explained after a second, a little more calmly.

Eddie sighed heavily, slightly averting his gaze, “It's... it's not...” he tried to say something, but confused thoughts and a prickly lump in his throat prevented him from voicing something conscious

“That man died under a fire truck eight months ago,” Evan also said softly, slowly raising his gaze back to Eddie, causing his heart to skip a beat. “I should have accepted this a long time ago. Bobby and Maddie were right… I needed to..”

“Stop right now,” Eddie interrupted. He stared into his friend's deep, fear-filled blue eyes, slightly moist and reddened at the edges. “Maybe we have known each other not so long ago, and I know about ‘Buck 1.0’ only from stories, but you are the strongest and bravest person I know..”

And let it sound corny, but it's true. And Diaz is ready to drum it into anyone who thinks otherwise. Even if it's Buck itself.

“Eddie… No, it's not..” Evan interrupted him, “You don't know what happened before we met, I always just...”

“No, listen to me,” Eddie didn't let him finish, putting his hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing, “No matter what happened before. I saw how you fought like no one else for Chris and me. And you fought for your sister. For each of us just because you can”

“It's not that...” the young man tried to intervene again. It really wasn't about that anymore.He fought and lost. Every decision he made turned out to be the worst possible one. Starting with when Devon died falling off a damn roller coaster when He couldn't make the right decision to save him. He made the worst possible decision when he was at the therapist afterwards. He hadn't done enough to protect Maddie from her husband. He brought Christopher to this pier, after all. He just keeps making terrible decisions that eventually brought him here. Without money. Almost without housing. Without a family. Without any sense to fight on.

“Let me finish,” Eddie said, slightly squeezing his hand on Evan's shoulder, “And you've been fighting hard for the opportunity to return to the team all these months. I want to say that feeling tired is normal. You have the right to these feelings, but I'm here to support you in everything, so that it doesn't happen.”

“If I had accepted it right away, at least I would have had a place to live.” Evan replied and lightly pressed his palm on his left eye as it began to throb following the growing headache, “What's the point... in all this, Eddie?”" he asked, slightly stammering.

“Because there are people who love you ,” Diaz replied confidently, “Because a lot of people would never see their loved ones again if you weren't a firefighter... and just who you are,” he said and smiled a little sadly when Evan raised his eyes and met his gaze, “Even being in perhaps the most terrible situation in your life, despite the pain, you fought for the lives of dozens of people you don't even know.”

Buck frowned slightly and blinked several times, trying to remember what his friend was talking about. But, Eddie continued:

“The world will be a much darker place without you,” Eddie said, not noticing the bewilderment in Buck's eyes. Unfortunately, he already imagined how he had to say something like that. But now he does not feel a drop of doubt in his own words. Because it's true. The truth, which can be said to have saved him, and now he must convey this idea to Buck itself. 

“And you almost won. There's not much left,” he continued, “Two more operations. And you won't be alone, even if I'm not around,” he added, trying to swallow a lump in his throat, “We'll make these jerks in the department fulfill their promises. Bobby will help us. And Meredith has some kind of plan.”

“Did you tell Bobby?” Buck asked, looking away again, “Eddie, I didn't want to drag them into this..”

And maybe he wanted to scream now, but it all seemed so pointless now. Maybe he didn't really believe in his friend's words, but he would really like to. He would like to believe that all this will turn out to be just a nightmare and soon he will wake up, forgetting about everything. Somewhere deep down, behind all this pain, he wanted to believe every word and maybe Bobby could really help. At least there's a reason why Eddie has to make medical decisions for him right now, which means that the rest of his decisions also make a little more sense than Buck can understand with his head clouded by painkillers.

“I'm sorry I didn't discuss this with you,” Eddie apologized, bending slightly to meet Buck's gaze again, “But if anyone can do anything, it's Bobby. We may not agree, but he's still your family.”

Evan didn't say anything and just looked around slowly. They stopped in a parking lot among a lot of cozy houses surrounded by greenery. He vaguely remembers this place, but everything seems too unreal. “I'm sorry..” Finally, he said softly, returning his gaze to Eddie. “I just...” he said, rubbing his temples again to get over the headache a little

“Hey, you don't have to say anything,” Eddie interrupted, “You have the right to feel what you feel,” he said and lightly patted Buck on the shoulder before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Let's get home, you get some rest. I'll be back from work tonight, and we'll call Meredith and discuss our plan, okay?”

Buck slowly sucked in as much air as he could and exhaled just as slowly.

“Okay,” Buck agreed with a slightly sad smile, “Only my house is on the other side...” he suggested, “It seems?”

Eddie snorted a little, “Don't you think I'm going to leave you alone in your loft?” he asked, starting the engine again. “Carla will look after you while Chris is at school. I'll be back tonight.”

“Don't you have a twenty-four-hour shift?” Buck asked, slightly surprised, deciding to ignore the fact that a nurse would be assigned to him. And the fact that he was going to go straight to the insurance company office. Anyway, he doesn't feel strong enough to even stand on his feet, let alone wait in line for several hours.

“I switched because Chris and I were planning to visit you at the hospital tonight.” Eddie explained, “But since you ran away...” he continued, slowly taxiing back onto the road.

“I can't stay with you.. This..” Evan protested, ”I don't want to inconvenience you.“

“It's inconvenient for us if I leave you alone in an apartment with a huge staircase, which, as you yourself said, you hate,” Eddie said, deciding not to voice out loud the second part of his thoughts, which is associated with too much tramadol in the cabinet above the sink in that apartment.

He took another deep breath, continuing to drive carefully when Buck didn't respond. Such mood swings should cause him concern, but apparently a short walk to the car along with everything else turned out to be too much for Buck's weakened body. He just needed to rest, Eddie reassured himself. They will overcome it together, sooner or later.

 


 

“Meredith Grey!” The loud voice of Gray-Sloan's chief of surgery, Miranda Bailey, was heard from the handset as soon as the connection was established, “You should have brought a patient from Los Angeles, not a lawsuit!”

Meredith snapped her jaw shut, swallowing all the words she had planned to voice. With a small sigh, she fell onto the bed of her hotel room and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her free hand, “A lawsuit?” she finally asked when the silence seemed to have already dragged on.

“The hospital is being accused of insurance fraud,” Miranda explained, “Can you explain to me what the hell is going on there?”

A light gust of cool air burst through the slightly open window, causing the long curtains to sway slightly. Gray got up from the bed with a slight groan and went to the window, thinking about the whole situation. A translucent reflection of her own face filled with incomprehension met her on the glass.

“Something doesn't add up here,” she said quietly, “The patient's insurance was already frozen at the time of his admission to LA General, how can they press charges of insurance fraud if they haven't even received any notifications about the patient's treatment?”

“This is a very interesting question,” the chief noted, “As far as I understand, the reason for the insurance freeze was an internal investigation regarding alleged fraudulent actions,” she added, after a few moments.

“You don't mean to say that Buck somehow manipulated the insurance payments?” Meredith was indignant, actively gesticulating with her hands, turning sharply from the window, “This is bullshit”

Miranda was silent for a few seconds, until finally, after a heavy sigh, she continued: “Several operations over the past 8 months, the need for which is very doubtful from a medical point of view. An embolism that could have been foreseen and avoided..”

“God, tell me you're not trying to blame..” Gray was outraged in a very raised voice, interrupting her boss, “Our patient, that he intentionally went to the hospital with a thromboembolism? Can we still blame him for being caught in a tsunami?!”

“Grey, listen to me!” Bailey also replied sharply, “I'm not blaming anyone, I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on!” After these words, a deep breath was heard on the other side of the phone line, “I'm taking lawyers and flying to Los Angeles tomorrow morning,” she added in a calmer tone, “Prepare all medical records and bring your firefighter.”

“He's not mine...” Meredith tried to protest

“It doesn't matter!” Miranda interrupted her, “I'll call you as soon as I know something. You've started this mess, so be kind enough to try to sort it out.”

“I'll do it, just...” Gray started to say, but a series of rapid beeps in the phone clearly indicated that the conversation was over. She threw the phone on the bed and turned back to the window.

She was looking through the window at a lot of people walking slowly in the park opposite the hotel. Cars passed by while her own thoughts were spinning at breakneck speed in her head. All of this makes almost no sense. Buck's just trying to get back to work, right? At least that's what he said himself. Meredith chuckled slightly at the absurdity of her own idea that he might be a fraud, which appeared for a second in her head. This young man is anything but a fraud. Right?

Notes:

The chapters are getting bigger as the second act of the story progresses, so I decided to separate them in order to publish updates a little more often. Thank you for being interested in this story and leave comments. This is very important to me!

Chapter 7: Two steps back; part 2

Summary:

Buck meets with Meredith, as they planned, and the evening goes great, but only up to a certain point.

Chapter Text

A few hours of sleep earlier in the car seemed to him to be a great solution. At least it really was after a very grueling start to the day and a trip from the hospital. And any strength to continue conscious activity completely and finally left along with the growing, throbbing headache.

“Are you sure we shouldn't call Meredith?” Eddie asked, with a very worried tone in his voice. He had just brought a glass of water and carefully handed it to Buck, who was sitting on the sofa with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.

It took a few seconds for the young man to understand that he was being addressed, and to break through the light veil of sleep that had managed to hit him in the few minutes that had passed since he managed to sit on the sofa in his friend's living room. With a small groan, he slowly raised his head and blinked several times before he could see the glass of water in Eddie's hands.

“No, it's fine. Thank you,” he said, taking a glass of water. “I've had concussions before, I know how it is. Right now it's just a headache from sleeping in the car,” Buck assured as he dug with his free hand in the pocket of his hoodie in search of pills handed to him by Dr. Gray at the hospital.

“Maybe,” Eddie agreed, carefully sitting down on the coffee table so that he was facing Buck, “But you've never had your skull opened before.”

Another plaintive moan was heard instead of an answer, “I forgot my pills,” Evan explained, again slightly tilting his head back.

“I'll come back and get it,” Eddie said firmly, taking the glass of water from Buck's hands back and putting it on the table

“Eddie, don't,” Buck dissuaded him, “We were planning to meet Mererdit in the evening anyway, and you have to go to work.”

"Are you sure?" he insisted, "I can do..."

"I'm sure," the young man interrupted him, "The next intake of antibiotics and other things is only in the evening, and I'll cope with the headache," he said and immediately, in contrast to his own words, unpleasant sensations of heaviness behind his left eye made him emit a slight groan and press the eye with his palm.

"So, okay..." Eddie said, getting up from the coffee table and wiping his palms on the outer part of his thighs, "Let me look for something for a headache," he suggested, realizing that it might be almost impossible to persuade Buck, given also the conversation that took place a little earlier in the car.

"Here, take this," Carla's voice suddenly rang out coming out of the kitchen. She took a few steps towards the guys by the sofa and handed them a small blister with several white pills. 

Buck carefully reached out and took the offered pills, “What is it?” he clarified, trying to examine the small letters on the package with one eye, since an attempt to open the second eye caused a worsening headache. 

“It's Ibuprofen,” Carla replied softly, while Eddie carefully picked up a glass of water that had been left on the coffee table earlier and handed it to Buck. 

The young man looked up at his friend, and a second later, with a characteristic click, he took a pill out of the pack and put it in his mouth, accepting the offered glass of water. “Thank you,” he said, taking a deep breath after draining the glass in a few sips. 

“Thank you,” Eddie also added in a whisper, smiling gently at Carla. The woman smiled back and nodded her head slightly, carefully took the package of pills back, “You can go back to work, I can handle it here,” she said quietly. 

Buck leaned back on the sofa, closing his eyes. Eddie gave him another worried look, “Call if anything changes,” he instructed. The young man raised his hand in response and gave a thumbs up. “I'll be fine,” he added after a few seconds. 

“Okay,” Eddie replied, “Then I'll go,” he added, taking a few hesitant steps towards the doors. 

The ibuprofen took effect really quickly, considering that Buck took it on an empty stomach. After a few minutes, the heavy, oppressive pulsations of the headache began to fade gradually, allowing him to finally relax and sink slightly deeper into the soft cushions of the sofa. After such a long time spent in the hospital, even today's short walk seemed to take all his strength, so he allowed himself to forget about all plans to go to the insurance company office and fell asleep faster than Diaz managed to leave the house.

Eddie, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions, stopped for a minute in front of his car parked in the driveway and took out his phone. After unlocking the screen, he stared at it for a few minutes while thoughts were spinning in his head about how helpless he felt in this whole situation. He has no way to effectively influence the department, nor to interact with the insurance company on behalf of the Tank. God, he'd be willing to just give his friend anything after what he did for Chris during the tsunami.

Perhaps he can give something. After making a few taps on the phone screen, “Hello, Bosco?” he said, as soon as the connection was established, “Plans have changed, I'm in action today,” Eddie added, getting into the car.

 


 

But a short dreamless sleep was eventually interrupted by a monotonous, annoying sound coming from somewhere outside. Without even fully realizing the sequence of his actions, Buck stretched out his hand somewhere in the direction of the sound source and after several clumsy blows on the table, he was able to capture this sound source, which turned out to be his phone. 

“Hello?” he said a little hoarsely, absolutely reflexively, holding the phone to his ear, still not opening his eyes and not fully processing the things happening in reality. 

The palpable hoarseness of his own voice made him slightly clear his throat and finally open his eyes. He was still lying on the sofa in Eddie's living room, slightly covered with a soft, silky plaid, which seemed surprisingly too soft for a thing that could be in his friend's house. From the other side of the sofa, a teddy bear in a fire uniform was looking at him, sitting softly between the seat and the armrest. Despite the fact that it might be strange, Buck was sure that the bear himself looked very sleepy in these shaded rays of the afternoon sun. Turning his head slightly to the side, he noticed that there was a small note on the table, a glass filled with water and another pill. 

“Buck? Are you there?” Meredith's slightly worried voice rang out from the phone, about the existence of which the young man had already managed to forget in the seconds it took him to understand where he was and what was going on. 

“Yes, I'm here,” he replied and made an attempt to sit down, taking the back of the sofa with his free hand. Not immediately, but in the end he managed to slowly get up and carefully throw both legs to the floor, wincing slightly from the tension at the seams in the process. 

“Just… I'm not quite awake yet,” Buck explained, actively blinking to finally clear his vision and taking a few sips of water, so carefully left, probably by Carla, for him. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up,” Gray apologized, “I can call you back a little later.” 

“No, it's not worth it, it's all right,” Buck refused, “I've probably slept enough already. What time is it?” he asked, cautiously looking around the room in search of at least some watches, besides those that are pressed to his ear right now. 

“It's almost four in the evening,” Meredith answered him, “I found out something and we agreed to meet, how are you?”

After getting a more accurate idea of the current time, Buck mentally estimated that he had slept for a little more than six hours, judging by the fact that he remembers the last thing before he passed out. While his brain was counting the hours a little slower than it should have been expected, he caught sight of the text of a note located on the table, which said that Carla had gone to pick up Chris from school and asked him to call her if he woke up. 

“Buck?” Grey asked again when the silence had dragged on a bit. 

“Yes, I'm here,” Buck responded and slightly bent his neck a couple of times to stretch the muscles that were slightly sore from sleeping on the couch. Surprisingly, otherwise he felt much better than he had right after they arrived from the hospital. The headache is almost completely gone, leaving behind only an unpleasant heaviness. His injured leg, which used to hurt almost every time he wakes up, created almost no discomfort. “I know a great place. Let me text you the address and meet you there in an hour?” he said, lightly rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. 

“Are you sure a public place would be a good idea?” She asked cautiously, “I don't think...”

“I'm sure,” Buck interrupted, “I've spent too much time locked up, I need air, I need to see other people, Meredith,” he countered, “I want to feel like myself,” he added, a little more quietly. 

There was a tense exhalation from the other side of the handset, “Okay,” Gray finally agreed, “Should I pick you up?”What is it?" she asked.

“It's not worth it,” he replied, “We'll meet there.” 

“Then I'm not saying goodbye” Meredith said, “See you later. Be careful” 

“Of course. See you later,” Buck added and interrupted the call. 

 


 

He missed it. No, he didn't even realize how much he really needed it . The room of the bar, free from any sunlight, was illuminated by several decorative lamps that descended from the ceiling and radiated a soft, warm, in every sense of the word, light. And although for the most part the bar was still empty, the room was already filled with the muffled sounds of conversations of various companies, something gathered here, that there and the ringing of glass glasses, intertwined with the notes of background music. A soft heady smell mixed with notes of cinnamon, which was incredibly often used to make cocktails and became a kind of hallmark of the institution. 

Buck arrived a little earlier, because he was already used to laying much more time on the road to any place, taking into account his own mobility. Taking a small table for two in the far corner, next to a beautiful wall covered with decorative moss, he ordered a soda and some simple salad, remembering all the numerous restrictions in dishes that his injuries imposed on him.

Ignoring the fork, he pulled crisp, fresh lettuce leaves out of the plate with his hands and dipped them into the sauce, threw them into his mouth. Just then Meredith came around the corner, accompanied by a waiter. 

Buck forgot what he was doing exactly the moment their eyes met. Her blue eyes glittered slightly, reflecting the numerous light sources hanging around, like a water surface under a star-filled sky. Her blonde hair gently fell over one shoulder, gently shimmering as she came closer, smiling softly. A simple light gray sweater coupled with dark jeans only emphasized the incredible color of her eyes. The image ended with a small black clutch in her hands, and the whole sight made Buck slowly swallow the remains of the salad that had accumulated in his mouth, without taking his eyes off Meredith. 

Up to this point, they only saw each other in the hospital and Gray was almost always in a medical robe and often in a surgical cap. Even when they were waiting for Eddie, he was probably too busy thinking about how to solve all this insurance nonsense and didn't pay attention at all. But now, when his head became a little clearer after a good sleep somewhere in a quiet place, devoid of hospital fuss, he was really speechless from how good Meredith looked. 

And it actually made him feel a little uncomfortable. Not that he had any extensive wardrobe choices right after arriving from the hospital, but at least he would have tried to pick up something better than a simple white T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

“Uh...” Buck tried to say something when Meredith came closer, “You look great,” he finally squeezed out after a couple of seconds, hurriedly wiping his fingers with a napkin from the remnants of the sauce, blushing slightly from how awkward it turned out to be.

“Thank you,” Gray replied softly, smiling a little wider, “But I still came to a big conference, unfortunately, I don't have so many clothes with me,” she explained, carefully pushing back a chair and sitting down opposite, “I usually prefer something simpler”

“Yes.. uh..” Buck tried to answer something again, trying to suppress the inappropriate blush, which was fortunately masked under the very dim ambient lighting, “Me too,” he finally said and immediately regretted it as soon as he realized how ridiculous it sounded.

And Meredith seemed to catch the confusion in the air and, clearing her throat, hurried to change the subject, “I hope nothing alcoholic?” she asked, pointing to the glass on the table with her eyes.

“No, no!” Buck hastened to reply, “It's soda. I can't drink while I'm taking all the medications,” he explained, which immediately made him even more confused, because it's obvious that Meredith is a doctor and she knows it.

“Speaking of medicines,” Gray said, dipping her hand into her clutch, “You forgot to pick them up,” she added and took out three orange jars, carefully placing them on the table.

“Yes, thank you,” Buck thanked and putting the used napkin aside, took the jars and put them in his pocket, “Everything went somehow too fast, I'm sorry”

“Don't apologize,” Gray stopped him, already familiar with this feature of his, “It's okay.” she assured him, carefully looking around. “Where's Eddie?” she asked, not finding the man anywhere nearby.

“His… He's at work,” Buck replied, “And answering your next question, I got there by myself and no, I feel good.”

“I'm still not sure it's safe for you to go to bars, besides alone,” Meredith argued.

“If there is a place where it is safer than in a hospital, it's here,” the young man hastened to retort, having the opportunity to prepare his arguments for this conversation in advance, “There are usually a lot of emergency services personnel, paramedics, firefighters, policemen,” he explained, “And I really needed to escape. And I feel good after sleeping, and..”

“I get it,” Gray interrupted him, “Believe me, I know what it's like to spend so much time in the hospital and not see anyone but the medical staff around,” she said, smiling slightly, “Although, if you think about it, there are only doctors around in the rest of my life,” she added, thinking a little and giggling lightly. Obviously, there is a difference when you are a patient and when you are not.

“I'm sorry,” Buck said a little quieter than before, looking slightly away, “That you had to go through this,” he explained after a second.  Whatever it is, he understands perfectly well how painful even a week in the hospital can be.

“It's okay. That's in the past,” Meredith replied, taking a small breath, “But I mean, I understand why it's important to you and I don't judge. But still, as a doctor, I'm a little worried.”

At that moment, a waiter came to their table, bringing a glass of mineral water for Meredith. She thanked him with a slight nod of her head and after taking a couple of sips, returned her attention to the young man opposite, “Actually, let's get down to business,” she said in a much more serious tone, “Buck, before I ask the question I have to ask, I want to assure you that I completely trust you in everything, and how I promised, Callie and I would help you solve your insurance problems, but I need to know the truth.”

It was too abrupt a change of atmosphere. A light, rather casual conversation at one point turned into something heavy that fell between them with a crash, forcing Buck to instinctively move back a little, pressing his back harder against the back of the chair and slightly close. He took a careful breath, “Okay. I'm listening,” he said, although he really didn't want this conversation to continue at all.

“The hospital was involved in an investigation into the issue of insurance fraud,” she said quickly, wanting to end all this as soon as possible, and after making a short pause so that the young man could process the information received, “That's why, most likely, your insurance was frozen. And since it happened before… Before we meet, I need to know..”

“You need to know if I'm a fraud?” with a small exhalation, Buck finished the sentence for her in a disappointed tone, lowering his shoulders and looking away.

And in fact, he suspected something like this from the moment he found out about the freezing of his insurance, so it wasn't such a surprise. Having a fairly extensive amount of free time while in the hospital, he also had many opportunities to study how medical bills are paid in such cases. And contrary to his own opinion, the department does not pay for everything directly. Part of the payments goes through the insurance company and he felt for a long time that it could all end in something like this, but this does not make the whole situation any less unpleasant.

And although the fact that there was such an investigation did not come as a surprise, Buck's heart missed another beat when he realized that all this could put a final end to any plans to restore Gray Sloan. They offered him help in an incredibly difficult situation, and he dragged them into some kind of delays with the insurance company.

“No, Meredith, I swear,” he assured her, unconsciously clinging to one of the few people who hadn't left him yet, “I would never do anything like that. I'm just really..“, he paused a little, as thoughts were clearly ahead of words right now, "I really need to get back to this job… Please forgive me for dragging you in...”

“Stop, please,” Meredith interrupted him gently, “Like I said, I believe you. No need to add anything”

“I... I... don't know what to say,” he said softly in response, meeting Gray's gaze again, “That's all… I just don't know..” he continued trying to collect his thoughts, rubbing the bridge of his nose with one hand.

“It's okay, Buck,” Meredith reassured him, carefully placing her palm on the young man's hand on the table, “No one will blame you. And we already have a plan. Everything will be fine,” she assured.

It seems that a little grounding in the form of a soft palm on his hand helped Buck finally calm down and collect all his thoughts in a heap. He took a breath and finished rubbing the bridge of his nose, returned his hand to the table, again looking into the incredibly deep blue eyes of the woman opposite.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling softly, without adding anything else.

“Don't mention it,” Meredith replied, and after making a few light claps, she removed her palm from his arm.

“Do you want something to eat?” changing the subject rather abruptly, Buck asked, “I would love to eat something more satisfying than this salad,” he added, pointing to the torn remnants of lettuce leaves in the plate.

Gray giggled slightly, smiling, “Yes, I would like a snack,” she agreed, “But we need to discuss a plan of action. Or can we do it after?”

Buck took another breath. Of course, it won't end there, but he's really hungry. And yet it was better to solve everything now, “Let's make an order. We can discuss everything while the food is being prepared,” he suggested and pressed the button to call the waiter on the table.

After a while, as they managed to order food for themselves, Meredith decided not to delay any longer and continue the conversation, “Our lawyer believes that the best strategy would be to file a counterclaim,” she said, which almost made Buck choke on soda.

Carefully putting the glass back on the table and removing the excess liquid around the mouth with a napkin, “File a counterclaim against whom? Against the insurance company?” the young man hastened to clarify.

“Yes,” Gray confirmed, “But they also believe that by involving the department as one of the parties, we will be able to...”

“No,” Buck interrupted her sharply, “That's out of the question. I can't sue the LAFD, it's absurd.”

“They have obligations, Buck,” Meredith insisted, “and they refused to fulfill them, effectively leaving you without a livelihood, not to mention the fact that you need medication and the recovery period after the tsunami may..” 

“I understand, don't continue,” the young man interrupted her again, “They are like a family to me,” he added, wanting to explain his position a little, “Maybe not the department itself, but the 118 part. How will they treat me if I sue the department?”

“As someone who is ready to defend their legitimate interests with legitimate methods,” Gray retorted, “And as a family, I'm sure they will support you.” 

And despite the fact that all of Meredith's words were true, she was still somehow wrong. Buck sucked in a slow breath and looked at her skeptically, frowning slightly.

“Look,” Gray continued, “There are too many dark spots in this whole case and the lawyers agree. The insurance company is trying to concoct a case on very dubious grounds and our strategy is to attract as many parties as possible in order to put pressure on them and force them to retreat before the absence of any grounds for fraud charges.”

It sounded logical to Buck. Although it still seemed to inflate the problem out of nothing. To attract the attention of a bunch of people to him alone? It seemed really too much. However, he allowed Meredith to continue: 

“It would also be best for you to contact the trade union,” she said, “It may take too much time for their own investigation, which we do not have, since we have started growing the implant and it will need to be installed on time, but the very fact of contacting them will be an important element in our strategy.” 

“Wait, wait,” Buck stopped her, “Did you say you started growing an implant?” a little discouraged, he asked. 

“Yes. The cells that we took during the operation cannot live for a long time without a growth medium,” she explained, “Hunt had to start printing the implant so as not to lose them” 

“Meredith, I can't pay for this!” Buck was slightly indignant, “It's not a fact that this whole plan with a bunch of cross-lawsuits will work..” 

“There are no heaps of cross-lawsuits in this regard. Only one person I met,” Gray corrected him, “And I was quite serious when I said we could do it for free.” 

“Meredith, that's...” Buck replied indistinctly, looking away again and leaning back in his chair, “I'm not worth it. You don't have to do this,” he said softly. 

“No matter how much it costs,” Meredith replied softly, “You're a Grey-Sloan patient now. And we will do our best to help you. And Bailey agrees with me, so it's settled.” 

The young man slightly raised his eyebrows, looking a little surprised, “Your son?” he asked, returning his gaze to the woman.

Meredith giggled slightly and smiled, “No, I'm talking about our chief of surgery, Miranda Bailey,” she explained, “It's a long story,” she added, anticipating the next question.

“I'd like to hear it someday,” Buck said, smiling a little at the corners of his lips, happily accepting how the tension dropped slightly due to a small misunderstanding. 

“And I'm happy to share this story with you,” Gray replied, “But I need your answer. Bailey's coming here to Los Angeles tomorrow with a lawyer and they're asking you to come over.” 

“I don't know, Meredith, I'm not sure this is a really good idea,” Buck continued to protest.

“It's really not the best option,” she agreed, “but given the rather tight time frame, it seems to be the only option.” 

The young man did not respond to this, deep in his own thoughts. Was it really the only option? There was always the possibility that he had just talked to Bobby or even they could talk to Chief Alonzo together and it would really turn out to be just a misunderstanding. But for some reason, something inside him said that Bobby would refuse to help, which made his heart break. 

“Okay, let's do this,” Meredith said, interrupting his flow of thoughts, “We wait for Eddie and discuss this with him. You still have until tomorrow. Besides, tomorrow the lawyer will be able to clarify more and answer all your questions.” 

“Okay,” Buck finally agreed, “I'll text Eddie and ask him to come here as soon as he finishes work in...” he picked up the phone and looked at his watch, “In an hour and a half” 

Just at that moment, the waiter returned with their orders. Carefully placing the plates in front of them, he asked if they wanted to order something to drink, and after receiving a negative answer, he left. By this time, Buck had just finished typing a message for his friend and put his phone back on the table, turning the screen down. 

“So, what did you say about a long history?” smiling conspiratorially, it seems, taking the tension off his shoulders a little, he asked. 

Meredith giggled a little at the abrupt change of subject, but she was happy to support her, “Do you know what a perfect storm is?” she asked, maintaining the same conspiratorial smile, deciding to start from afar. 

“Let's say. Go on,” Buck replied, carefully winding his pasta on a fork. 

And so, under the soft light, in the pleasant atmosphere of the bar, Meredith told the story of the birth of her son and what an important role Miranda played in all this, who is not only the delightful chief of surgery Gray-Sloan, but also her good friend. Buck was more than happy to listen to Meredith, occasionally letting himself sink a little, lingering on the way her hair shimmers or on the cute dimple that forms on her cheek when she smiles.

Since the topic of childbirth was touched upon, Buck could not help but tell the story of how he and Bobby ended up at a yoga class for pregnant women, after which all the woman began to give birth at the same time.

“What? You're kidding!" Meredith was surprised, nevertheless smiling broadly, imagining a similar situation quite vividly

“No! The pure truth, I swear!” Buck assured her, also smiling broadly, taking a few more sips from his glass, “Did I mention that it was on a full moon?” 

“Oh, well, that explains it all,” Gray immediately agreed, also taking a few sips of her sparkling water, “The power of the full moon cannot be underestimated.” 

Their conversation continued gently, plunging them both deeper into the relaxed atmosphere of the bar, where, as time passed, more and more people gradually arrived. Several people were coming up to their table, greeting Buck. Colleagues from other fire stations, he explained. They are familiar with many of them from all over the academy and Meredith was pleased to see how happy these people really were to see him and sincerely worried about his health. 

These sudden encounters forced Buck to talk about how he ended up in Los Angeles and enrolled in the fire academy, capturing the period of his life in Peru. Carried away by the fascinating story, Meredith allowed herself to take a closer look at the features of the young man opposite. Now, when most of the cuts and scratches on his face left only small pink stripes and a wide smile makes him squint his eyes a little, she was really able to see everything that was hidden behind a mask of pain and blurred by the action of painkillers. 

The way his blue eyes light up every time she tells something about her work or, which seemed even nicer to Meredith, about various medical facts. The way he raises his eyebrows slightly, probably unconsciously, and smiles every time their eyes meet. 

“Ehh!” Buck exhaled, leaning back in his chair, after another fit of laughter caused by Meredith's story of the most ridiculous cases she had encountered during her practice at the hospital, “I'm sorry that we didn't have the opportunity to meet under different circumstances,” he said. 

It didn't escape Gray's attention that the young man blushed slightly a second after the words left his lips. And maybe they didn't drink alcohol that evening, the cozy, filled with the sounds of many conversations and laughter, the atmosphere of the bar made them both feel relaxed in their casual conversation.

“It's not too late to fix this,” Meredith said, deciding to play along a little. She put a glass of mineral water on the table, which she had previously held in her hands, and picked up her clutch, carefully getting up from her chair. Winking at the young man and making sure that he accepts the rules of the game, thanks to the fact that he smiled broadly and slightly tilted his head, she slowly walked away towards the restroom. 

After a few minutes, she also slowly came back, stopping by the table. “Will you allow me to join?” she asked, smiling broadly. 

“Of course you can,” Buck agreed, “but it would be a little weird to be sitting here with a stranger,” he said, awkwardly trying to hold back a smile. 

“Well, that's easy to fix,” she replied, and carefully pushing back her chair, sat back down in her seat, “My name is Meredith. I have three children whom I love madly. But right after the kids, my unconditional love is my job,” she introduced herself, “And tequila” 

The young man smiled broadly and already sucked in air to introduce himself in response and admit that he, too, is madly in love with his work and it is even ridiculous to joke that nothing will come of it because of this, but the realization of the situation in which he is, like an icy shower fell on him, washing away all the warmth of the surrounding the atmosphere is a stormy stream. He is an invalid who may never be able to do what he loves again. He was probably left without housing and means of livelihood. All the people he calls family, including his sister, have gradually drifted away from him. The smile on his face slowly melted as a prickly lump formed somewhere in his throat. 

He cleared his throat, “My name is Evan and I'm just a guy at the bar,” they said, with a little effort returning the smile to their face and meeting Meredith's gaze. 

But there was no response. He could see the exact moment when the eyes of the woman opposite flashed and the smile disappeared from her face. 

“What did you say?” she asked, frowning slightly and straightening up in her chair.”Where did you get this from?“ she continued to ask questions to a slightly stunned Buck. 

“Uh.. I'm sorry if I said something wrong,” he hastened to apologize, “I didn't mean to upset..”

“Did Callie tell you? Or Hunt?“, Meredith interrupted him, abruptly rising, causing her chair legs to squeak on the floor, “If you decided that this is a good way ... to achieve whatever you want to achieve, then it's not so!”

Buck would have stood up too, but his leg wouldn't allow him such abrupt maneuvers. Sitting there, he felt incredibly guilty while Gray glared down at him. “I'm sorry, please, I didn't mean to offend you,” he apologized again, slightly straightening up in the chair, “No one told me anything, I don't understand what happened...”

Gray took some bills out of her clutch and put them on the table with a little pop, saying nothing, continuing to look directly at Buck, frowning. 

“Meredith, please wait,” he tried to stop her, “At least tell me what I did wrong...” 

But there was no response. The woman zipped up her clutch and hurried out of the bar, which Buck was only forced to accept without being able to follow her. He took a deep breath and pressed his palms to his eyes, letting out a small moan. 

Everyone always leaves him, why did he allow himself to think that this time it would be different? He didn't even realize what he had done wrong. And all the hopes that this would happen much later now looked as absurd to him as the idea that they could really become good friends. 

Gradually sinking into a spiral of self-contempt, he nevertheless caught a few sympathetic glances from the neighboring tables. Slightly embarrassed by such attention, he took another breath to collect himself and leaving a few more cash bills on the table, including tips, took his cane, phone and hurried out of the bar as quickly as possible.

Finally stepping outside, the cool air hit him in the face. The lack of daylight on the street was really unexpected. It can't be that late. Even if they stayed a little late, Eddie should have arrived by now. 

A bright crescent moon was already hanging over the horizon, and small groups of people were crowding around the entrance here and there. The smell of cigarettes and city smog contrasted too much with what was inside, making him hate himself even more that he had destroyed it. After a quick glance at the phone, Buck was convinced of his fears. It was already quite late, and apart from a few unanswered calls from Carla, Eddie still hadn't read the message. All of this immediately made him worry that something had happened to Eddie, or even more so to Chris. While a ball of anxiety growing somewhere in his heart was bringing him closer to stopping breathing, he hurried to call Carla back. 

“Buck, are you with Eddie? Where are you? Are you all right?”a woman's worried voice immediately rang out from the other side of the phone line. 

“Uh.. No, Eddie's not here,” Buck replied cautiously, “Is Chris all right?” he hastened to clarify, slightly stepping aside and pressing his back against the wall to take the load off his injured leg. 

“He's worried about his father, but otherwise everything is fine,” Carla reassured him, “He's not answering his phone. I thought he was with you and put Chris to bed.”

“He's probably still working,” Buck suggested more for his own peace of mind, “Let me call Bobby.” 

“Good. Find out what's going on and call me back, please,” Carla instructed him before the connection was severed. 

Being in a standing position for a long time was already making itself felt, causing numbness in the leg that had already become habitual, and the wall was definitely not the best thing to lean on. Buck would have been happy to sit down directly on the ground to avoid pain in the near future, but he was afraid that he would not be able to stand up. And his head was actually busy with another, more important matter. Quickly finding Bobby's number in the contacts, he hurried to dial it and put the phone to his ear, already looking around for an opportunity to catch a taxi. 

“Buck! Hi, is everything okay?” The captain's worried voice rang out two rings later. 

“Yeah, Bobby, it's okay. I just wanted to know if Eddie is with you right now,” Buck asked rather calmly, wanting to avoid possible questions about his own well-being right now. 

“No, his shift ended a few hours ago and he left,” Nash replied, sounding slightly worried, “Buck, what happened?” 

“Everything is fine, we just agreed to meet. Apparently, he's a little late,” Buck said, in another attempt to calm himself down rather than the interlocutor. 

“Should I call Athena?” the captain asked, “How long has it been since you last talked to him?” 

“Bobby, stop,” Buck interrupted him, “It's okay, it's just, most likely his phone sat down and he got stuck in traffic. No need to raise the National Guard ahead of time” 

“Yeah, you're right,” Bobby agreed, “Call me if you can't get in touch with him, okay?” 

“Good.” the young man answered and was about to put down the phone to call a taxi and go to Carla and Chris, hoping that his theory with a dead phone is correct, but:

“And yes, Buck, wait,” the captain said, “I was at the department today. It's about your insurance. They shouldn't have blocked her...” 

“Wait, Bobby,” Buck interrupted, “What do you mean they shouldn't have? What are you talking about?” frowning at the rather strange wording of the sentence.

There was a heavy sigh from the other side of the phone line, “We need to discuss this in person. How would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow?” the captain asked. 

“Yes. All right, good,” Buck agreed to the proposal. And although he would really like to find out more right now, he really couldn't stay here anymore and he needed to call an Uber. When Bobby said goodbye again, he was finally able to call a taxi and leave.

 


 

“It's good that you're back,” Carla greeted him as soon as he walked into the hallway, “The meeting with Meredith was delayed, wasn't it?” she asked, smiling a little conspiratorially.

“Let's not talk about it,” Buck said, carefully sitting down on a small couch next to the entrance. Quickly taking off the shoe from his good foot, he had to tinker with the second one a little, “You can go, I'll look after Chris and wait for Eddie,” he added. 

“No way,” Carla protested as she carefully squatted down and, with a few deft movements, helped Buck to throw off the sneaker from the injured leg, almost without causing discomfort. 

“Thank you,” Buck said softly, “But she's already been delayed, I can't...” 

“You don't have to,” she interrupted him, “I'm offering it myself. We'll wait for Eddie together, and in the meantime I'll feed you dinner,” she said and also carefully got back to her feet. 

The sound of the key turning in the front door prevented someone from objecting to this. A few moments later, the door opened and Eddie entered the hallway, which caused a mental sigh of relief from everyone present. However, this feeling quickly faded away when Diaz looked up and Buck saw a huge, already beginning to turn blue, black eye under his eye. 

“Buck? Why are you sitting in the hallway?“he asked, as if nothing had happened, "Carla, please forgive the delay. You can go,” he added. 

“Eddie...” Buck began to say cautiously, “Why didn't you answer the phone?" he asked. 

“It's crashed,” he replied very dryly, and quickly taking off his shoes, hurried to go further into the house, “Is Chris in his room?” he asked on the way. 

“Yes, he's sleeping…” Carla replied and raised her eyebrows in an unspoken question, looking at Buck. “Maybe I should stay?” she suggested. 

“No, it's not worth it,” Buck replied, carefully getting to his feet, leaning against the wall, “Thank you very much. I'll call you later.”

“Are you sure?”, Carla decided to clarify, “I can stay. It's really not difficult for me.” 

“It's going to be okay, Carla. You're already late, we'll manage, honestly,” the young man assured her. 

Finally succumbing to the assurances, Carla took her bag and hugged Buck goodbye, went home. Buck stood in the hallway for almost a minute, pressing his forehead against the front door, trying to process everything that was happening, not paying attention to the growing numbness in his leg. 

Obviously, something bad has happened. And the most frightening thing for him was the fact that he probably has a very clear idea of what exactly happened. Wouldn't Bobby have said earlier on the phone if it had happened on a call? 

One way or another, the door will definitely not be able to give answers to questions. The only one who can now is somewhere in the kitchen, so Buck had no choice but to carefully, using the cane and the walls as supports, head to the kitchen. 

Eddie is standing next to the refrigerator, holding a bottle of water to his eye. He didn't say anything when he and Buck met eyes. Instead, he just closed the refrigerator and sat down at the table, turning his back to his friend. “It was an accident on call,” he muttered.

“We both know that's not true,” Buck stated, standing diagonally away from Eddie, holding both hands on the back of a chair. But Diaz did not react in any way, only let out a small moan when he leaned the bottle against his face a little harder. 

“Eddie, talk to me,” the young man continued to insist, “Please,” he added, leaning slightly over the chair to meet his friend's gaze, but he only turned away a little more. 

“What do you want me to say?" Eddie muttered softly somewhere to the side. 

“Why?” Buck asked, “We discussed it, Eddie, we wanted to address...” 

“Just talking won't fix anything, it's stupid. Diaz replied rather sharply, finally turning around to face Buck, “I should be able to handle this myself, damn it!” he shouted, forcefully throwing a bottle of water on the table, which bounced off the countertop, causing all the things on it to shake, flew further and landed on the floor in the corner of the room.

A sharp sound and movement made Buck unconsciously take a step back. Within the next three seconds, several things happened: A severe, sharp pain appeared in his leg, spreading in waves higher along the path of the nerve, up to the neck. Clenching his teeth tightly so as not to accidentally scream and wake Christopher, he grabbed a chair in a futile attempt to prevent himself from falling after he lost his balance. Eventually, Buck ended up on the floor, hitting his back against the wall behind him as the chair crashed down in front of him.

“God! Buck, are you okay?!” Eddie shouted and in one quick movement he was squatting in front of his friend.

But Buck didn't answer, because the pain in his chest caused by a very unpleasant landing on the wall made him hold his breath. A sharp pain in his side, which he had not even realized until that moment, forced him to hunch over a little and pinch the painful place with his hand.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, holding back unbidden tears and clenched his teeth, uttering only a long moan in response, until it seemed that he was about to lose consciousness.

“Buck, take a deep breath, please,” Eddie coaxed him, gently pulling him by the shoulders to be able to check for possible damage to the ribs from the back, given the very unpleasant fall, “Buck, let out the air, it will help, I promise”

Carefully running his fingers over the pairs of ribs, he finally felt the young man relax slightly in his hands and let out a long exhalation with a slight groan.

“That's it. Breathe,” Eddie instructed, “Your broken ribs are fine, maybe there will only be a small bruise.” he said, leaning back a little to feel the back of his head for bumps, “Did you hit your head?” he asked, carefully touching the attachment point of a special mesh under the short hair on his friend's head, holding the skull fragments together.

In response, Buck only shook his head negatively, not having the strength to squeeze out a word. Meanwhile, the feeling of sticky liquid under his hand, which he pressed to his side, did not bode well. Taking another breath, allowing the pain to calm down a little more, he gently removed his hand and saw a frighteningly fast-growing red spot on a white T-shirt. “Eddie?” he called carefully in a hoarse voice.

Diaz reacted pretty quickly and immediately understood what was going on, watching as the blood actively soaked the T-shirt. “God, Buck, I'm so sorry,” he apologized, hating himself more and more by the second. However, there was no time for this, so he carefully lifted Buck's T-shirt and saw confirmation of his fears. A rather small, already pink suture, left after surgery on the spleen, parted in the upper part, allowing blood to actively flow out of the resulting wound, slowly but rather extensively flowing down to the lower back.

“Damn, please forgive me, I would never..” Eddie continued to apologize, reaching for a stack of paper napkins on the table behind him.

“It's okay, Eddie,” Buck reassured him, “It was an accident.”

“It's not like that,” Diaz protested, pressing napkins to the wound. They definitely won't be able to stop the bleeding on their own. It is necessary to sew up the wound again, and he does not have the necessary tools, not to mention anesthesia, sterility and the fact that everything is significantly complicated by anticoagulants that will not allow bleeding to decrease over time. “We have to go to the hospital,” he stated.

“No, we can't,” Buck immediately dismissed this thought, “I'm not sure I can handle another medical bill,” he said, closing his eyes from the pressure exerted by Eddie on the wound through napkins.

“We can go to the municipal hospital,” Eddie suggested, desperately sorting through the available options in his head, “No, that's on the other side of town, we won't have time” he himself rejected this idea, “Where's your phone?” he finally asked when he seemed to have guessed who could help them.

“In my pocket,” Buck replied, reaching for the phone with his free hand, because Eddie was pressing the wound right now and couldn't take it himself.

“Call Meredith and put her on speaker,” Diaz instructed, adding more tissues and continuing to press harder on the source of the bleeding, causing Buck to let out another groan. “Please forgive me..”

Having done as he was told, Buck put the phone on his hip, “Come on, I'll hold this,” he said, intercepting the already completely soaked pack of napkins on his own side, allowing Eddie to free his hands to prepare everything necessary.

Meanwhile, after five or even more rings, the call finally connected. “Buck, is something wrong?” Meredith's worried voice came from the speaker of the phone.

“It's Eddie, we have a problem here,” Diaz replied, rummaging through the kitchen drawers in search of at least something that might be useful. But apart from a few kitchen towels, there was nothing, “Buck's stitches broke, we can't go to the hospital and...”

“I get it”Gray interrupted him, “Tell me the address, I'll be there as soon as possible” 

Eddie hurried to give his address and return to Buck. He threw the already useless napkins aside on the floor and pressed the wound with a towel.

“The front door isn't locked,” Buck added, remembering that he never closed it. And if he believed in God, he would be sure that it was no accident.

“I'm on my way,” Meredith said, “try to hold the wound tight. If there are bandages, use them to press the tampon to the wound”

“We're a little short-handed here,” Eddie said, “but I'll do my best,” he added, trying not to look at the too-large pool of blood on the floor under his knees.

After just 6 minutes, which Eddie definitely didn't count, the sound of the front door opening was heard. “This way!” he shouted, but not too loudly, remembering the child who sleeps in the room at the end of the corridor. He really wouldn't want Chris to find them in a pool of blood in the kitchen.

Meredith ran into the kitchen and threw a very massive bag on the floor without saying a word. Unbuttoning the bag and taking out a pair of disposable gloves, she put them on, “Eddie, you need to let go so I can look”

Following the instructions, Diaz eased the pressure and eventually removed the towel, which was also mostly soaked in blood. The weakening of the pressure forced Buck to slightly clench his teeth again and suck in air through his nose.

“God, don't tell me you got into a fight with each other,” Meredith said as soon as she noticed a very fresh bruise that was starting to form under Diaz's eye.

“No, it was an accident,” Buck said, not giving Eddie a chance to add anything.

In any case, now is not the time to understand the circumstances. “How are you feeling?" Gray asked, turning to Buck, at the same time carefully examining the parted seam, slightly probing the edges of the wound with her fingers.

“Like a Birch tree from which someone decided to collect juice,” he replied, which made Eddie and Meredith look at each other awkwardly, “In some Eastern European countries, people install a special tray in the birch and collect the leaking juice,” Buck explained, “They say it's very tasty and healthy” 

“There are bags of saline in the bag. Install them, please,” Meredith asked Eddie, who nodded in the affirmative and got down to business. 

“Do they really drink the sap of the tree?” Gray asked, already addressing Buck, “It sounds strange,” she said, washing the wound from the second saline bag. The blood, it seems, has already begun to flow less actively, after all, the dose of anticoagulants was not so large and the young man took them for the last time, apparently, still in the hospital. 

“But maple syrup doesn't seem strange to you, does it?” Buck kept talking while Eddie was putting him on an IV. He definitely knew that Meredith was trying to get him to talk in order to be able to track the change in his consciousness. However, he didn't mind.

Eddie met Grey's gaze and shrugged slightly. The remark about maple syrup sounded very appropriate. In fact, this is the same thing, only with the addition of sugar.

“Better tell me, do you really carry a bag with a surgical instrument with you everywhere?” Buck asked without waiting for an answer.

“Only if you tell me how many fire extinguishers you have at home,” Meredith told him, injecting painkillers into the wound area with syringes, which caused the young man to make a small moan, although the pain from the injection was not as strong compared to the wound itself.

“Hey, that's a terrible stereotype. Just because I'm a firefighter doesn't mean I'm crazy about it,” Buck objected, but meeting Eddie's disapproving gaze, “Six” he admitted, “Two in the car, two in the kitchen, one in the hallway and one in the bedroom”

Meredith smiled slightly as she injected surgical glue into the wound, “Yes, I carry surgical instruments with me everywhere. Well, except for scalpels and some others. They cannot be transported on the plane,” she said.

“Dad?” Christopher's frightened voice rang out from the living room, ”What's going on?”

Eddie immediately visibly tensed up and stood up and looked at Meredith, nonverbally asking if they could cope here without him, at the same time clinging a drop of saline solution to the back of a chair.

“Go,” Gray practically ordered him, laying out everything necessary to sew up the wound on a sterile napkin laid out nearby in advance. 

Diaz got to his feet, “It's okay Chris, wait, I'll come out to you now,” he shouted while washing all the blood from his hands in the sink. 

“What's wrong, Dad?” the child's voice rang out again, but much closer, so Eddie hurried to intercept him rather, wiping his hands right on his pants, which, however, were also covered in blood. The only good thing is that he is still in working form. 

“I probably owe you an apology for what happened at the bar,” Meredith said, taking advantage of the fact that she and Buck were alone, “Do you feel it?" she asked, lightly pressing her fingers on the wound, the bleeding from which had already stopped thanks to the surgical glue.

“I'm sorry if I did something wrong,” Buck said, “No, I don't feel it,” he added, answering the question, turning his head slightly so that he would meet Meredith's gaze. 

Gray took a breath and unpacked the surgical thread, started stitching the edges of the wound, “You didn't do anything wrong. In fact, I really liked how we were able to spend time,” she admitted, smiling slightly, “It's just that your phrase confused me a little. But I shouldn't have reacted like that, so I'm sorry for that.” 

“It's all good. I liked it too,” Buck replied a little awkwardly, “Can you explain a little so that I can avoid this in the future?” He asked, but hastened to add: “You don't have to if you don't want to.” 

“I probably need,” she said, taking another deep breath, “My husband died in a car accident almost two years ago.” 

This made Buck's heart skip a beat and involuntarily glance towards the door, behind which Eddie was comforting his son right now. Shannon left them quite recently and it all seemed too unfair, “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, unable to express his sympathy with anything more than just words. 

“That was how we met,” Gray continued, smiling slightly as memories of those times flew through her mind, “At the bar. I introduced myself as ‘Just a girl in a bar,” and he's as ‘Just a guy in a bar.’ It has been with us for a very long time” 

Buck swallowed a small lump in his throat, “I'm sorry, I would never...” 

“I know,” Meredith interrupted, “it's just a coincidence, so I have to apologize for my reaction,” she said, continuing to methodically apply stitches. 

“Can I ask you something else?”, Buck asked, to which he received only an affirmative nod of his head from Gray, “Your husband… Did he like ferries?” 

That made Meredith giggle a little, “Oh, yeah. In fact, we got married on the ferry. Somehow too many turning points in my life are connected with ferries” 

Buck smiled a little. In fact, this explains the strange reaction from Gray at the hospital when he said he loved ferries, commenting on her surgical cap. It is also clear where she got this hat from. 

Nevertheless, despite the fact that all these memories obviously make Meredith smile and relive them with warmth in his soul, he also sees the pain in his eyes, with shades of sadness that haunts any memory of the departed. He's seen it too often in Eddie's eyes lately, and, strangely, in Maddie's eyes when she looks at him. But this is something that is not the time to think about right now. 

“I hope it's not too late to try to start over?" Buck asked cautiously

“It's never too late,” Meredith replied with a smile and with one click cut off the rest of the surgical thread.

Chapter 8: Good Intention, part 1

Notes:

Well, here we are, and we're ready to continue!

A huge thank you to everyone who kept commenting and showing interest in this work for such a long time. During the break, my style and approach to translating have evidently evolved, so there might be slight stylistic differences between this and the previous chapters.

From now on, new chapters will be posted approximately once a week.
Once again, I thank you all and wish you a pleasant reading experience

Chapter Text

Calming a child down is a challenging task in itself. But it becomes almost impossible when you're trying to do it with your clothes soaked in blood. Chris was adamant about getting to the truth, and Eddie was immensely grateful to Meredith, who managed to intervene before it all escalated into something very unpleasant. It was hard to say whether it was her authority as a doctor in Chris's eyes, or if she used her undoubtedly well-honed maternal skills, but the situation was resolved.

After changing clothes and putting Christopher back to sleep, the three of them gathered in the backyard, since the kitchen required a thorough cleaning and probably no one would set foot in there for the next couple of days. Nevertheless, the cool breeze slowly swaying the tree branches, combined with the birdsong creating a beautiful melody only occasionally interrupted by the sirens of emergency vehicles somewhere in the distance, and the clear sky above, filled with the glow of the metropolis—this was truly what allowed them all to calm down a little.

But a few minutes of silence and a couple cups of tea were all that ultimately stood between Eddie and returning to the discussion of the topic he had been so desperately trying to avoid. And if guilt could kill, Eddie was sure he would already be dead and buried under miles of earth. Not only had he broken his promise, but it all could have ended very, very badly if not for Meredith arriving just in time. He was even afraid to think about what might have happened if she had already returned to Seattle.

But under the weight of all the circumstances, denying and refusing was absolutely stupid, even considering that Eddie wasn't capable of thinking one hundred percent clearly right now. And in the end, it was Meredith's own story, which she managed to share, that convinced him that therapy, even if it ultimately couldn't help, was at least not something to be afraid of.

And despite the multitude of doubts that would probably not disappear anytime soon, the next step was determined. But the information about the insurance fraud investigations came as a separate revelation.

"Wait, they're accusing you of insurance fraud?" Eddie asked, pushing his now empty teacup slightly aside to move a little closer on the back porch steps where they were settled.

Buck sat, somewhat sunk into the beanbag chair, which turned out to be a great way to stay in a comfortable position. He thought for a moment before saying somewhat uncertainly: "So it seems?" He shifted his gaze to Meredith, who was also sitting on the steps next to Eddie. "I don't quite understand how it works."

"Not yet. They can't press charges until they find evidence of violation," she explained, taking another sip of tea that had long gone cold. "Right now, they, meaning the insurance company, are conducting an internal investigation."

"And how is your hospital involved in this?" Diaz asked, trying very hard to follow the train of thought.

"Charges have already been brought against me and Kayla," she said, taking a deep breath. "They believe we are persuading a patient to undergo surgery contrary to medical indications for the purpose of personal gain," she added, throwing a quick, encouraging glance towards Buck, who felt a small pang of guilt.

"Okay..." Eddie uttered, lightly rubbing his temple where a full-fledged bruise had already formed. "But the insurance was frozen long before all this? And how is the department involved?" he asked, since the dates obviously didn't match up.

Meredith took another deep breath. "Apparently, they started the investigation a long time ago, but the fact that the department refused to pay the bills served as the trigger," she said. "I don't understand much of it myself, and a lot still remains unknown, but our lawyer is working on it."

"They'll be in town tomorrow, right?" Buck asked, and after receiving an affirmative nod from Meredith, he said, addressing Eddie, "We plan to meet and, hopefully, get more information." At the same time, he tried to adjust his position in the chair, which caused a small amount of pain, making him wince slightly.

Of course, this couldn't go unnoticed. "Are you okay?" Eddie and Meredith asked almost simultaneously, slightly rising from their spots.

"Everything's fine," the young man reported a second later, settling comfortably back into the chair. "The painkiller is wearing off," he explained.

"I'll get more," Grey said and got to her feet, lightly brushing off her hips. "Might as well give you another dose of antibiotics," she added, already heading towards the house entrance.

"Can we skip the next round of injections?" Buck groaned, clearly not welcoming the thought of being poked with sharp metal objects again.

"Only if you want to return to the hospital with a massive infection," Meredith said, already disappearing through the doorway.

"Buck, I'm sorry, please, I never should have..." Eddie tried to apologize again, slightly averting his gaze, still consumed by guilt over what had happened.

"Eddie, stop it," Buck halted him. "I never blamed you in the first place," he explained. "I just slipped badly."

At that moment, the sound of the door opening was heard, and Meredith returned with a pair of gloves and a syringe in her hands, not giving Eddie a chance to respond. Instead, Diaz only smiled slightly with the corners of his mouth and threw another apologetic look towards his friend, which Buck once again brushed off.

"Give me your arm, please," Grey requested, squatting down next to the young man.

Buck had no choice but to obey. Carefully turning in the chair, he extended his arm and allowed Grey to apply the tourniquet. "Make a fist for me," she instructed, using the moment to put on a pair of disposable gloves.

The unintended ambiguity of the request made Buck slightly embarrassed and clear his throat, which couldn't be missed by Eddie, who chuckled slightly and, raising his eyebrows, looked at both of them.

"What is it?" Meredith asked, obviously not catching the reason for the embarrassment.

"Nothing," Buck quickly replied, causing Eddie to snicker into his fist again.

"Alright..." said Grey, and having prepared everything, carefully inserted the needle into the vein, beginning to slowly administer the medication.

"So, Eddie, can you be at the meeting with the lawyer tomorrow?" Buck asked, wanting to get away from this awkward interaction as quickly as possible.

"I need to sort out a couple of things with Bobby, but I'll try to make it," he replied, thinking for a moment and visibly frowning, already imagining that this interaction would end in another argument.

"He invited me to dinner tomorrow," Buck remembered quite unexpectedly. "He said he had to tell me something important," he explained, frowning slightly. He hadn't had enough time to think about it, but now it seemed rather strange.

Eddie took a deep breath. This new information indirectly confirmed the suspicions he had been harboring in his head ever since he learned about the whole situation with the insurance payments from Meredith. He replayed that conversation in the captain's office in his head, the one Maddie had also been part of. He and Buck found out about the suspended payments that same evening, and now there was every reason to believe that Bobby had played some role in this. But Diaz would have preferred to keep these reflections to himself until he had confirmation. He expected that he and Maddie might try to challenge his right to make medical decisions for Buck, but convincing the department to stop paying the medical bills was too much.

"Eddie, are you with us?" Buck called him after Diaz had obviously been silent for too long, lost in his thoughts. By this time, Meredith had finished administering the antibiotic and packed all the medical instruments into a special bag.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie reacted. "Just lost in thought," he explained.

"Care to share?" the young man asked.

"Nothing important," Diaz brushed it off. "It's late. I suggest we continue this conversation tomorrow," he said, hoping to avoid discussing this topic for today.

"Yes, that's a good idea, we all need to get some sleep," Meredith agreed. "I'll order an Uber."

"You can stay if you want," Eddie offered her, getting to his feet. "There's a spare room..."

"Thank you for the offer, but I'll go back to the hotel," she politely declined, smiling softly.

The next day promised to be very unsettled. And the weather in Los Angeles decided to match. Heavy, dark clouds were moving towards the city from the ocean, plunging the streets into semi-darkness. Buck cautiously watched from the car window as employees of numerous small cafes hurriedly cleared tables from the streets and folded umbrellas. Gusts of cold wind were intensifying, threatening to turn into a real hurricane, which definitely didn't help Buck get into a positive mindset.

"Dammit," Eddie cursed, throwing a quick glance at his phone lying on the dashboard when a characteristic sound notified him of a new message. "Just what I was afraid of," he muttered under his breath, returning all his attention to the road.

Buck frowned slightly, quickly shifting his attention between his friend's face, which seemed extremely tense, and his phone, whose screen had already gone dark. "I can check what it is," he offered nonetheless.

Diaz took a deep breath. "I already know what it is," he said, slowing down to turn at an intersection. For now, the wind gusts posed no danger and there was no rain, but that didn't mean it wasn't worth being a little more cautious than usual. "Bobby is asking me to come in for a shift," he explained as soon as the maneuver was completed.

"Then I suppose you should answer him," Buck said cautiously. "They probably got a storm warning," he added, leaning forward slightly to look at the sky through the windshield.

"We already agreed that I would be at the meeting..." Diaz began, taking another deep breath and dropping his shoulders, realizing his own powerlessness against the circumstances and Buck's correctness, which, nevertheless, didn't make him feel much better about breaking his promise.

"It's fine, Eddie," Buck interrupted him. "This is far more important than..." he made a short pause, not immediately finding the right word, "...than all this," he finally said, not having thought of anything better.

Eddie didn't answer, only continuing to carefully navigate the road, stubbornly ignoring new messages from Bobby on his phone. There was something else here, and Buck noticed it. "Eddie, what's bothering you?" he asked cautiously.

"It's nothing," Diaz replied. "It's just I was planning to have a few days before..." he continued speaking, but swallowed his last words.

"Before what?" the young man asked, carefully nudging his friend towards a more specific answer.

But by this time, they were just approaching the designated place. It was a rather inconspicuous office building in the city center, albeit in a very prestigious area.

"It's nothing. Really," Eddie answered a second later. "They're already waiting for us," he added, slightly indicating with his gaze towards the figure near the building entrance.

It was Meredith, who, despite the rather unpleasant weather, stood there, slightly hugging herself, holding onto her own shoulders. Probably, the light business jacket over a white blouse and skirt weren't quite the right clothing for the weather. Gusts of wind made her long, light hair flutter, forcing her to periodically brush stray strands from her face.

As soon as Eddie's car stopped, she walked quickly with a distinct rhythm of her heels on the asphalt, approached the passenger door and opened it. "Buck, Eddie, hi," she greeted, adjusting another strand of hair blown by the wind.

Diaz leaned forward slightly towards the steering wheel to see Doctor Grey better. "I hope you haven't been waiting here too long," he said, frowning slightly.

"No. I literally just arrived a couple of minutes ago," she assured him. "Need help?" she asked Buck, who was already reaching into the back seat for his cane.

Another gust of cool wind, meanwhile, rushed into the car interior, making Buck feel a slight chill. Of course, he and Eddie had stopped by the loft so he could put on something more decent, considering that the only white t-shirt he had with him was now more red than white.

Nevertheless, a light pink short-sleeved shirt with light jeans was clearly not quite what could save him from such an unexpectedly cold wind.

"No, thank you," Buck answered the previously asked question, carefully getting out of the car, leaning with one hand on the cane and the other on the armrest.

Meredith accepted the answer and took half a step back to give the young man the necessary space to maneuver. "Eddie, are you coming?" she asked, noticing that Diaz didn't turn off the engine and wasn't taking any other actions to leave the car.

"No. Unforeseen circumstances at work," the man replied, gesturing towards the sky. "Sorry, but I have to go."

"Okay, I understand, no problem," Grey said. "We'll let you know how it went," she added, smiling slightly.

By this time, Buck was already out of the car and fully experienced how truly cold the wind was, which here, surrounded by high-rises, seemed to only gain strength, cutting to the bone.

"Whew," the young man forced out, slightly shaking his shoulders, suppressing an unpleasant shiver in his body. "It'll be fine, Eddie, text me when you get to the station," he said in parting, and, receiving a slight, uncertain smile and a nod in response, closed the passenger door.

"I suppose we should go inside," he suggested to Meredith as soon as Eddie's car drove off.

"Right," Grey agreed with him. They both headed towards the entrance, which, fortunately, was not far from the parking lot, but it still took some time. Finally passing through those awful revolving doors, they finally found themselves inside. The light background music in the lobby sharply contrasted with the strong howling of the wind mixed with the sounds of road traffic from outside, making Buck feel like his ears were blocked.

"They're already waiting for us, this way," Meredith said, finally able to fix her hair without fear of it being blown about again. She had already sufficiently regretted deciding not to use a hair tie.

Buck quickly brushed off the dust that was currently flying around the city streets and followed in the direction indicated by Doctor Grey, towards the elevators. A slight nervousness that had been present since yesterday made him walk a little faster than was comfortable for him, causing pain in his injured leg. The pain was quite tolerable, though unpleasant. But at least it helped him focus on what was happening and not spiral down into his thoughts.

With each ringing sound the elevator made as it passed another floor, Buck's anxieties broke through the mask he had put on more and more, striving to break out, making him grip his cane tighter. Suddenly, the chill he felt from the very cold wind outside was replaced by a feeling of stuffiness, showing a few droplets of sweat on his forehead and forcing him to unbutton another button on his shirt.

"Are you okay?" Meredith asked in a concerned voice, noticing her companion's unease.

"Yeah, just..." the young man began to answer, but interrupted himself to take a breath, allowing himself to calm down a little. "Just a bit nervous."

And that was the truth, despite the obvious understatement. Until this very moment, everything that was happening seemed somewhat unreal, just a hypothetical development of events. But now, being here, it seemed like an increasingly terrible idea.

"Are you sure? You don't have a fever?" Grey clarified, carefully placing the back of her hand against Buck's forehead. "Oh, you're cold," she noted with surprise.

"It's fine, Meredith," Buck assured her, which the doctor, of course, didn't really believe, but in the absence of any signs pointing to infection or any other complications, she was forced to agree that it was just excessive stress.

"Everything will be fine," she said softly, smiling slightly. "We'll just discuss everything. Any final decision will still be up to you."

They met each other's gaze for a few seconds, and the confidence that the young man could read in his companion's eyes helped him pull himself together a little by the time the elevator doors opened. Nevertheless, they continued to stand motionless, looking at each other in a strange attempt to conduct a dialogue without uttering a word. It seemed as if the whole world outside this elevator had been put on pause, until someone cleared their throat.

Buck let out the air from his lungs, not even realizing he had been holding his breath until that moment, and turned towards the sound simultaneously with Meredith.

Two dark-skinned women stood in the hall and looked at them. One was of short stature, with not too long, neatly styled hair and a gaze ready to incinerate them both. She was probably the one who had attracted their attention by clearing her throat.

"Bailey," Meredith greeted her briefly, finally taking a few steps to exit the elevator.

Buck, slightly lowering his gaze under the intense scrutiny, cautiously followed Doctor Grey.

"Buck, I'd like to introduce you to our Chief of Surgery, Miranda Bailey," Grey said very quickly, slightly turning to meet Buck's gaze. And a plea for help was very clearly readable in that look, making it obvious that Meredith was trying her best to get down to business as soon as possible to avoid the words that, apparently, were supposed to be said.

"Um, nice to meet you," Buck reacted quite quickly, despite the obvious uncertainty in his voice, and cautiously extended his hand. "You can call me Evan, or Buck, whichever you prefer."

Miranda threw another incinerating glance at Grey and held it for a few seconds, obviously weighing options in her head or suppressing any desire to say something very inappropriate, which, however, was almost the same thing from an outside perspective.

Still, in the end, Bailey shook the young man's outstretched hand, and it was a much firmer handshake than he might have expected. However, when her brown eyes, so saturated with darkness that they almost merged with the pupils in the dim lighting of the elevator lobby, met his gaze, he fully understood why Meredith had tried to change the subject as quickly as possible. But just a few seconds later, something barely noticeable flashed in her eyes as her facial features relaxed.

"Glad to finally meet you in person, Evan," Miranda said in a calm, melodic intonation. She cleared her throat before continuing: "Please, meet Ingrid. She will represent the hospital's interests and yours, Evan, if you agree, of course."

The second woman, Ingrid, gave exactly the impression one would expect from a woman chosen to defend the interests of a rather large hospital in a federal case. Sharp cheekbones and chin outlined an almost perfect oval face, just like in painting textbooks. Thin eyebrow lines slightly converged towards the bridge of the nose, only emphasizing the cold, stern gaze of her green eyes. A perfectly ironed black jacket over a white blouse, elegantly falling on the hips along a very slender figure, completed the image.

And being in high-heeled shoes, she could match Buck in height, and her rather lush, dark curls only enhanced this effect. In her hand was a rather large, black briefcase. She took a cautious, small step a little closer to the others. "Nice to meet you," she said in a seemingly soft, engaging voice that, at the same time, seemed to resonate somewhere in Buck's chest, making him nervously swallow.

"Doctor Grey, Mr. Buckley," she greeted, smoothly inclining her head in a greeting gesture. "I assume you're not very comfortable standing here, I suggest we move to the office. This way, please," the woman added and, turning around quite quickly, walked down the corridor, filling the space with the rhythmic sound of her heels hitting the marble floor, leaving no room for objection.

Buck looked at Meredith in confusion, who smiled slightly with the corners of her lips and, shrugging her shoulders in slight bewilderment, followed Ingrid. But all this acquaintance only seemed to make Buck even more nervous. Ingrid definitely gave the impression of someone who could make any person regret even the thought of challenging her. Though Chief Bailey also left no doubt about her ability to defend her own point of view.

And this only convinced Buck that this whole idea of litigation could end very, very badly. The feeling of control, which, to be honest, had been in short supply for him over the past few months in general, now seemed ready to go into negative values, turning him into nothing more than a pawn in a political game between major players like the hospital, the insurance company, and the Los Angeles Fire Department.

"Sorry about that," Miranda said, lingering a little with Buck, allowing Meredith and the lawyer to go further down the hall. "Ingrid can be a bit sharp, but believe me, it's never directed at you," she added, finally pulling the young man out of his stream of thoughts.

"What?" he asked rather automatically. "No... It's fine, I'm just not sure..."

"No one will force you to do anything you don't want to," Bailey assured him softly. "But Ingrid is the best in her field. And she, like me and Grey, wants to help."

Buck took a deep breath that was supposed to give him a little more confidence, but instead only fanned the anxiety somewhere in his chest. But to be honest, he didn't have that many other options. Apparently, the alternative boiled down to being homeless without any prospects of returning to active duty. And that was, of course, an exaggeration, but for Buck right now, it looked exactly that way.

After a couple of seconds, he took a cautious but confident step forward, heading towards the others. Bailey smiled slightly and followed him at the same not-too-fast pace.

After walking a few meters, not wanting to wait for the moment when the silence might become awkward, Buck cleared his throat. "I probably should apologize," he said quietly. "All this is becoming a bit... Too much."

"Drop it," Bailey brushed it off. "The hospital's goal is to help people. If some cretins in offices have decided to stand in the way of that goal, then I am more than happy to show them how wrong they are," she said in a rather condescending tone.

"I just imagine how this could be..." Buck tried to object.

"I'm telling you, drop it," Miranda interrupted him. "All your scheduled surgeries will be performed, regardless of the outcome of this proceeding," she assured him, stopping and turning to meet Buck's gaze. "It's a matter of principle for me now."

Well, Buck was ready to believe these words, based on the little he had managed to learn about this woman from Meredith's stories and in the few minutes they had been acquainted personally. He smiled slightly awkwardly, allowing the anxiety, at least for this specific part, to calm down.

"Thank you," he quietly thanked, unable to find other words.

Bailey smiled slightly and, turning around, continued walking. Meanwhile, Meredith and Ingrid had stopped by one of the numerous doors, waiting for the two of them. After a few seconds, Buck, following all the others, found himself in a rather spacious room.

Several black, soft sofas and a small countertop with a coffee machine were in the corner along with several bushy plants in pots, forming a small, quite cozy relaxation area with a small coffee table of white oak color. A large, round negotiation table made of the same material, actually composed of several tables, was located a little further right in the center, illuminated by the soft light of pendant lamps descending from the rather high ceiling. Several empty bookshelves framed the space on the sides, completing the composition. Well, it looked really cozy. And the small scuffs and signs of wear on the furniture only emphasized this in a surprising way. In general, this entire room contrasted quite sharply with Buck's ideas about offices where lawyers conduct their business.

Large floor-to-ceiling windows located on the wall opposite the entrance were probably supposed to flood the room with plenty of daylight. But right now, dark clouds completely covered the entire sky, seemingly becoming only darker and denser with each passing minute.

Ingrid tossed her briefcase onto the table and with a characteristic click unfastened the locks on the sides, making Buck distracted from contemplating the landscape outside the window.

"We'll start in a few minutes, so if you want to make yourself some coffee or something, do it now," she said, taking out her laptop and several folders with papers following it.

Buck had already glanced towards the coffee machine and intended to take a step in that direction, but Meredith stopped him with a light touch on his shoulder. "Sit down, I'll make us coffee," she said. "What do you prefer?" Grey clarified, smiling softly.

It took the young man a few seconds to finally overcome fleeting embarrassment, but in the end, he swallowed all the apologies he was about to utter and, smiling slightly in response, nodded with an expression of gratitude. "Two creams and one sugar, please," he said and carefully pulled out a chair to sit at the table.

Positioning himself so he could look out the window, Buck lost himself in his own thoughts for a while, watching the cityscape filled with gray tones. Each heartbeat seemed heavier than the last, accelerating the incoming anxiety about everything that was about to be said in this room. While his gaze was focused, it seemed, on one point somewhere outside the window, the quiet negotiations of Bailey and Ingrid filled the room along with the sounds of the coffee machine.

A soft, cautious touch on his shoulder finally brought him out of his reverie. Buck blinked several times intensely and, fully returning to reality, shifted his gaze to Meredith, slightly shuddering.

The girl rather quickly removed her hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she explained, slightly averting her gaze, suppressing a feeling of guilt somewhere in her throat. "Your coffee is ready," she added, smiling slightly awkwardly, and handed him the drink.

A light steam rose from the white cup, filling the space around with the pleasant aroma of freshly ground coffee. However, it took Evan a few more seconds to return to reality and comprehend what was happening. Focusing his gaze on the extended cup of coffee, he smiled slightly apologetically and took the drink. "Thank you," he tried to say, but it came out so quietly that it looked more like he had just mouthed the words, which made him awkwardly clear his throat.

Grey, however, caught the gist and, smiling a little wider, relaxed the tension in her own shoulders upon seeing the soft smile and slight gleam in the young man's eyes. She cautiously nodded and slowly sat down on a chair nearby.

Buck carefully pressed the hot cup to his lips and took a small sip. The hot drink slightly burned his tongue, filling his olfactory receptors with a tart aroma and light notes of cream, driving away the nasty sensation in his throat. He took a deep breath through his nose, allowing the nutty-creamy notes to distract him from his anxieties for a few more seconds before they could begin.

But, of course, sooner or later, they would have to start. "Well, I assume everyone is ready," Ingrid said confidently, making several quick keystrokes on her laptop. "Well, I can only say that this is one of the most complicated cases I've had to deal with," she continued, not waiting for a response from those present.

The choice of words made Buck tense up slightly and sink into his chair, trying to seem a little smaller than he actually was. It had always been difficult and complicated with him, especially in recent months. Of course, part of him understood that the lawyer's choice of words had nothing to do with it, but he allowed the feeling of guilt to fill him once again.

Meredith, noticing the change in the young man beside her, carefully placed her palm on his, which was lying on the armrest of the chair. By this time, she had already understood that Buck preferred the tactile sensation of support above all else. Catching the young firefighter's gaze, she slightly raised her eyebrows as if asking if everything was okay. Evan, in response, smiled barely noticeably with the corners of his lips, allowing the tension to ease a little, not at all objecting to the soft, warm sensation of Meredith's palm on his hand.

Meanwhile, Ingrid continued, "On one hand, we apparently will soon be dealing with the insurance company versus Mr. Buckley, which will be under the jurisdiction of the state of California, which we will go into more detail about in a few minutes," she said in a clear, calm voice. "On the other hand, there is the case of the insurance company versus Grey Sloan, which has already been submitted for preliminary consideration to a federal judge, since the hospital operates in another state. And in addition to all of the above, we are dealing with charges against Doctors Grey and Torres within the framework of civil proceedings."

"This is..." Buck said awkwardly, as soon as the full picture was described. "Really a lot..." he added, lowering his gaze into the coffee cup on the table in front of him, already ready to descend into another spiral of self-hatred for having brewed this whole mess. But the soft squeeze of Meredith's palm on his hand seemed to interrupt this attempt, allowing the young man to feel less terrible.

"That it is," Bailey agreed softly. "But nothing we can't handle," she added. "Besides, right now it's important for us to focus on the first case. Regarding everything else, Evan, you absolutely shouldn't worry."

"Yes, okay," Buck agreed uncertainly and, clearing his throat, hurried to ask a question. "I don't quite understand how the fire department is involved here?"

Ingrid's emerald-colored eyes sparkled slightly, since Evan had asked an obviously appropriate question. "And that's the most interesting part," she said, seemingly in a much more excited voice than before. "Apparently, after you ended up at LA General, the whole story with the internal investigation surfaced. The department did everything in its power to distance itself from this," she explained, scrolling through something on her laptop, obviously looking for the necessary files. "As far as I can tell at this stage, the department wasn't even notified about the insurance freeze or the start of the internal investigation."

Buck carefully absorbed every bit of information, not daring to interrupt the lawyer.

"And I can understand why they did that," after a short pause, Ingrid continued. "The reputational losses, if this story somehow becomes public, will be colossal. Not to mention that this precedent could cause a wave of strikes and resignations among the other LAFD employees."

"Wait," Evan interrupted. "How is that related?" he asked, somewhat confused, looking around at everyone present. He could understand why, after so many almost fruitless operations, the department would give up on him, but grasping the connection to how this would affect his colleagues was too difficult under all this burden of anxieties and painkillers.

"If it becomes known that LAFD can abandon its employees to their fate like this," Meredith interjected, "especially those who were injured during active duty..." She made a meaningful pause. "It will seriously undermine trust in the organization. And not just among firefighters on duty, but also among the general public."

"Exactly right," Ingrid confirmed. "That's why they tried with all their might to make it seem like the department has nothing to do with it."

"Which is also their main mistake," Bailey added. "The lack of reaction on their part could be viewed by the public and the union as a violation of obligations."

"And that's also true," Ingrid agreed. "Have you already contacted the union?" she asked, as if in passing.

"No, I didn't have the opportunity to do so from the hospital, and after discharge everything was a bit..." Buck began to explain, but was interrupted:

"No details needed," the lawyer said. "It's not important right now. I can help you with that once we sign the documents so I can represent your interests officially," she added. "If you agree, of course."

And Buck had no doubts about agreeing to the offered help. He fully trusted Meredith in medical matters and had every reason to trust her and all of Grey Sloan in legal matters, since, obviously, this was something they sometimes had to deal with. Not to mention that he couldn't afford a lawyer in any other way.

He allowed himself a few seconds to process all the information received, but since it didn't answer many of the questions posed, he hurried to clarify, "Okay, but how did we even get into this whole situation? Why was my insurance frozen?"

Ingrid frowned slightly and started searching for something on her laptop again. "I haven't been able to find out much, since, as I said, at the moment I don't have the authority," she said, slightly stretching out the words, buying herself time to find the right files. And when, it seemed, the necessary information appeared on the monitor, she continued at her usual, fast pace: "But the chronology is as follows. Your insurance was frozen for an unknown reason about two months ago, simultaneously starting the internal investigation. We'll be able to find out more some time after we complete all the paperwork. And apparently, the case accelerated significantly after you were hospitalized."

She paused for a second and raised her eyebrows, expressing surprise, before continuing to narrate, looking intently at the monitor. "Moreover, apparently, the department transferred to the insurance company's account the amount necessary to cover medical services according to the insurance contract, but soon after, the funds were recalled." Ingrid looked at the monitor for a few more seconds while her eyes quickly moved from left to right. She made a few quick notes in her notepad. "This convinces me once again that we need to drag the department into this."

Buck tensed up again when he heard this proposal. His fingers involuntarily clenched the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. "Yes... This..." he spoke awkwardly, trying to gather his thoughts. "What exactly are you proposing to do?"

"The simplest and most winning option for us would be to involve the press..." the lawyer began.

"No!" — Evan sharply and loudly interrupted her, jumping up from his seat. The movement was so abrupt that his cane fell to the floor with a clatter. All those present turned their gaze to him, and Meredith removed her palm from his hand as if burned. Realizing it was too loud, he shrank a little more in his chair, his shoulders hunched under the weight of the suddenly surging emotions. "Sorry," — he quietly apologized and slightly cleared his throat, — "That's out of the question. No press, I don't want..."

Ingrid stopped him with a gesture of her hand, her movements smooth and confident. "No need to explain anything," — she said softly, — "Despite the fact that it would be the simplest option, we will respect your wishes in this."

"Thank you," — Buck said, slightly relieved of the tension in his shoulders. His heart was still beating much faster than was comfortable, and his palms felt terribly cold and clammy. He preferred to hide his anxiety behind a cup of coffee, taking a few more sips of the already slightly cooled drink. The warmth of the cup slightly warmed his icy fingers. And while he was enjoying this fleeting comfort, the lawyer continued:

"We will file a counterclaim against the department, enlisting the support of the union," — she spoke in the same unflappable voice, neatly laying out documents in front of her. — "This won't allow them to remain on the sidelines and will force them to explain all their actions. Besides, the judge will likely consolidate these cases and consider them simultaneously, which is important for us since you need to be in Seattle the sooner, the better."

It took a few seconds of heavy silence for everything said before to be sufficiently comprehended by everyone present in the room. Buck looked into his cup, as if in the dark surface of the coffee he could find answers to all the questions tormenting him.

After some time, Ingrid, noticing how her future client's face was taking on an unhealthy white hue, spoke again, leaning forward in a gesture meant to express involvement: "Mr. Buckley, you can ask questions if you have any," — she gently prompted.

Buck slowly raised his gaze, breaking free from his thoughts. His eyes were full of unshed tears. "Uh... I'm not entirely sure..." — he began to speak, but it came out too quietly and haltingly. He placed both hands on the cool tabletop, as if seeking support in this unstable world, and took a deep breath. "Do we have to do this?" — he asked quickly, without pauses between sentences. "I mean..." — he made another pause, running his hand over his face, — "Do we have to sue LAFD?"

"That is the most logical course of action in this situation," — the lawyer replied immediately, seemingly leaving no room for objection. She folded her hands on the table in front of her, demonstrating her confidence. "We can convince the court to take our side if we state that the department intentionally hindered your return to service." She took a deep breath and sharply pushed her laptop away, as if putting a period in this matter. For a few seconds, she looked out the window, where rain had begun to drizzle, contemplating the next step. "But what should be considered is that the department itself is perfectly aware of this."

While Evan seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts again, Meredith beat him to it. She anxiously ran her hand through her hair before asking: "What steps could they take if we delay?" — her gaze darted from Ingrid to Buck's pale face.

"Hard to predict," — Ingrid was forced to state, spreading her hands. — "It depends on many factors. In the best case — nothing. In the worst case..." — she made a dramatic pause, letting her words sink into the listeners' consciousness, — "In the worst case, they could support the insurance company in pressing charges, or file their own in an attempt to finally burn bridges and disown you to avoid public condemnation."

"They wouldn't do that!" — Buck objected loudly, sharply raising his head. His eyes burned with blue fire as he looked straight into the lawyer's eyes. At that moment, he looked like the true fighter he was before the injury.

Ingrid couldn't help but smirk slightly, seeing this flash of spirit. "They never... Bobby wouldn't allow it," — Evan continued meanwhile, but his confidence was already fading with each word. "It's just a misunderstanding..." — he added quieter, rather muttering to himself. These words hung in the air, sounding false even to himself.

"Earth to Mr. Buckley," — the lawyer not very tactfully returned the young man's attention to herself, tapping her pen on the table. — "I'm saying that's the worst-case scenario. But that doesn't mean they will do it," — she added much more softly, and her voice suddenly became almost maternal.

Bailey cleared her throat, casting a glance first at Meredith, then at Buck. Her face expressed understanding of his agonizing dilemma. "In that case," — she began, turning back to Ingrid, — "Should we plan something in advance to avoid such an outcome?"

"Of course," — the lawyer replied clearly and quickly, becoming a collected professional again. — "File our own lawsuit sooner, as I said."

"Is this... Is this really the best option?" — Evan asked cautiously. His fingers nervously drummed on the tabletop, betraying inner tension.

Ingrid slightly tilted her head, her gaze became detached, as if she was calculating possible scenarios. "As for the court's decision..." — she mentally went through everything she remembered, — "A very large fine, a requirement to pay compensation as well as cover all expenses." She listed, counting on her fingers. "For the department itself, this will mean a lot of personnel reshuffling. The city administration will definitely do everything to cover their own asses."

Meredith noticed how much harder it was getting for Buck. He squeezed his eyelids shut, as if trying to close himself off from the cruel reality. Each option caused him pain, tearing him apart.

"How long can we delay the response?" — Meredith specified, her voice trembling with sympathy.

Ingrid opened her mouth to give an answer, but Buck beat her to it. He stood up sharply, leaning on the table, his face contorted with pain — not just physical. "How will this affect my..." — he stumbled on the word, pausing to catch his breath, — "My firehouse?"

"They will all have to be questioned," — the lawyer replied, unperturbed by his emotional outburst. — "Both sides will try to drag all the dirty laundry out to build their position." She took a deep breath, giving him time to process what was said. "As for the timing — we literally have a couple of days in reserve."

"I don't want this," — Evan stated firmly. His voice suddenly became quiet, but a steely determination was heard in it. "I've already caused them all so much pain, there's no need to make them hate me even more..." — he added, and his hand involuntarily clenched at his chest, where his heart ached.

"Buck..." — Meredith looked at him with boundless compassion, — "It's not..."

"Don't say it's not true!" — he sharply turned his head and shouted. Tears finally welled up in his eyes, but he fiercely wiped them away with the back of his hand. "You know nothing about this!" — he added, and immediately his shoulders slumped with shame for his outburst.

A heavy silence hung in the room, broken only by the sound of rain against the window. All those present were struck by this emotional storm.

"Evan, listen," — Meredith began softly, cautiously approaching him as one would a wounded animal. — "You shouldn't sacrifice your own interests for the sake of others. Your safety and health are the number one priority."

Buck covered his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. "I just can't... can't betray their trust even more," — he whispered into his palms.

Ingrid, seeing that the situation was heating up, decided to intervene. She stood up and walked over to the window, giving him a moment to collect himself. "Mr. Buckley, let's look at it from another angle. You are creating a precedent and by your example helping others avoid a similar situation in the future."

Meredith carefully placed a hand on Buck's shoulder, and this time he didn't pull away. "Evan, we are all here to help you. And we know how hard it is for you. But you are not alone in this fight."

Slowly lowering his hands, Buck looked at his defenders. His face was wet with tears, but determination was read in his eyes. "What if... there is another way?" — he asked, and his voice finally gained firmness. — "A way to resolve everything without a trial?"

Ingrid thoughtfully tapped her fingers on the table, her gaze became analytical. "Theoretically — yes. But it will require serious negotiations and the department's willingness to engage in dialogue. And judging by the current situation..."

"Let's try," — Buck unexpectedly interrupted her again. He straightened up to his full height, and his former confidence appeared in his posture. — "I want to talk to Bobby. In person. Maybe I can explain everything and..." — he paused, thinking over his next words, — "And he can help. He has connections in the department..."

Bailey and Ingrid exchanged glances. Their gaze showed anxiety, but also understanding.

"Alright," — Ingrid finally agreed, making a new note in her notepad. — "But remember — we only have a couple of days. And if the negotiations don't yield results, we must act quickly."

Evan only nodded in response, his eyes fixed on the rain-streaked window. Thoughts of the upcoming conversation allowed him to calm down a little, giving the illusion of control over the situation.

"Mr. Buckley," — Ingrid's voice brought him back to reality, — "You must be prepared for any outcome. Even if the negotiations are successful, we need to have a backup plan."

"I understand," — Buck quietly replied, but a new determination was visible in his eyes. — "But I have to try. This is my only chance to fix everything."

"Regarding the case with the insurance company," — Ingrid changed the subject, opening a new folder with documents. Her fingers confidently flipped through the papers until she found the right form. — "We need to prepare an official statement. You will have to describe in detail all the circumstances of your case, including the details of the injury and subsequent treatment."

Meredith nodded, her gaze becoming professionally focused: "I can help with the medical part. I have all the records and examination results." She made a short pause, her fingers nervously tapping on the table before she added, trying not to look at Bailey: "Including the entire previous medical history starting from age 12..." — her voice became quieter, almost a whisper.

In itself, this, of course, was not illegal — as the attending physician she had every right to access these records, but storing them was a different matter entirely.

"Meredith Grey!" — Miranda stood up sharply, her chair screeching loudly as it moved back. If looks could kill, Doctor Grey would already be on the floor. "Don't tell me you..."

"I hope you didn't file a request for the medical records?" — Ingrid interjected, throwing an equally murderous look at the doctor. Her fingers clenched the edge of the folder so hard that the paper crumpled. "I'm sure not many records are digitized."

"Perhaps?" — Meredith averted her gaze, her cheeks covered with a light blush. She was clearly trying to evade the answer, but at the same time couldn't deny anything. "But I did it back at the hospital! I had the authority at LA General," — she explained, gesticulating so energetically that she almost knocked over her cup.

Miranda only sighed heavily and covered her face with her palm. She ran her hand through her hair, and this gesture conveyed the deepest disappointment. She, of course, could turn a blind eye to some deviations from accepted standards and procedures, but not when several lawsuits were looming over them.

The lawyer crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, her posture expressing clear disapproval. "Please, tell me you filed the request on behalf of LA General, and not on your own?"

Meredith pursed her lips, realizing she was caught. She began to nervously fiddle with the edge of her jacket. "Well... technically I was acting as the attending physician... and I had reason to believe that this information could be important for treatment," — she muttered, avoiding Bailey's gaze.

"Doctor Grey, answer the question directly: did you file the request under your own name, or under LA General's?" — Ingrid said sternly, leaning forward. Her gaze was heavy and relentless. "And if this becomes known during the court proceedings, it could bury not only your case, but your career."

Buck, who had been silently observing the unfolding scene until now, finally intervened. He ran his hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the fatigue. "Wait, but if these records are really important for my case... Maybe there's a way to fix everything?"

"Fix?" — Bailey snorted, spreading her hands in a gesture of hopelessness. — "Right now we're talking not about fixing, but about preventing a catastrophe."

"A request from a proxy covers access to current records" - the lawyer interjected – "but not to archival childhood medical history from another state. This is a gray area, Mr. Buckley, and they will use it" - she explained.

"I filed the request under my own name," — Meredith finally admitted, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. Her shoulders slumped as if a heavy burd en had been lifted from them. "But I did it based on a written request from Buck's proxy," — she explained — "It states that the records are required for further rehabilitation."

Ingrid narrowed her eyes, studying Doctor Grey. She took the folder and slowly, almost theatrically, opened it. "Do you have this request on hand? In writing?"

Meredith nodded, her fingers trembling as she moved the coffee cup aside. "It's in the package of documents I handed over earlier," — she said quietly. — "There's also a corresponding entry in the system."

The lawyer, without taking her eyes off the doctor, took the folder in her hands. Her movements were slow and precise. Finally breaking eye contact, she quickly flipped through the papers until she finally stopped. Her gaze definitely caught on something important. Opening the folder completely and placing it in front of her, she quickly skimmed through the document, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"Mr. Buckley," — she addressed, without looking up from the document, running her finger along a specific line. — "What is your relationship to Edmundo Diaz?"

"Uh... Best friend?" — Buck replied, slightly puzzled by the unexpected question. He glanced at Meredith as if seeking support.

Ingrid raised her gaze and, raising one eyebrow, asked with slight irony: "Are you unsure if he is your best friend, or if he is your friend?"

She would definitely have to spend a lot of time preparing him for court. If such an answer were heard from the stand, she would get even more gray hairs.

"He is my best friend," — Buck replied confidently and clearly this time, quickly understanding his mistake under the lawyer's sharp gaze. He straightened up in his chair, trying to appear more collected. "I'd even say, the closest friend."

Ingrid pondered, her fingers tapping on the table. "Can we claim in court that you are in a romantic relationship?" — she asked directly, looking at Buck with an appraising gaze.

Buck almost choked on the question. "What?!" — he straightened up sharply in his chair, his face flushed. — "No! Eddie is my friend, just a friend!"

Ingrid continued impassively, "I understand your reaction, but this is important for the case. The other side will inevitably have questions about why you appointed him as your proxy," — she explained, gesturing towards the document. — "And not, say, your parents, your sister, or even your captain?"

Buck frowned, considering her words. He ran his hand through his hair, his gaze becoming thoughtful. "My parents... they live in another state. My sister... we're not that close," — he answered evasively, so as not to delve into the nature of his relationship with Maddie. — "And Bobby was busy with work. Eddie was just there at the right moment. He's always there when I need help."

"That's exactly what could raise questions," — Ingrid noted, making a note in the margins of the papers in the folder. She put down the pen and folded her hands on the table. "We need to prepare you for the fact that similar questions will be asked in court. And it's important that your answers are clear and consistent."

Meredith gently intervened, touching Buck's hand in a gesture of support: "Evan, Ingrid is right. They will try to find any loopholes to cast doubt on your relationship with Eddie. But that doesn't mean they'll be able to prove anything."

Bailey added, gesturing for Buck to sit back down: "It's important that you are prepared to explain the nature of your friendship. How long have you known each other? In what situations has he helped you before?"

Buck thought, remembering. His face gradually relaxed, a slight smile appearing on his lips. "Eddie has always been there — in good times and bad. He helped me with rehab after injuries, supported me morally when things were tough, and... a lot of things."

"That's wonderful," — Ingrid nodded, and for the first time, notes of approval sounded in her voice. — "But by claiming that you are in a romantic relationship, we could avoid having to put the entire history of your relationship under a microscope," — she explained, becoming a strict professional again. — "The other side will inevitably try to challenge Edmundo's right to make decisions."

Buck shook his head, his fingers nervously tapping on the tabletop. "No. I won't do that. We're not... it's not true." His voice trembled, but his eyes showed firm resolve. "Eddie is my friend. And I won't turn our relationship into a legal trick."

Ingrid studied him for a few seconds, then nodded, making a note in her notebook. "As you wish. Then we need to carefully prepare all the documents confirming your friendship and history of mutual support."

"I have an idea," Meredith interjected softly. "What if we request character references from your colleagues at Station 118? And from Captain Nash himself? That would show how strong your professional and personal bonds are."

Buck's face brightened at this thought, but almost immediately clouded with doubt again. "What if they refuse? After all this..."

"Then that would be another argument in our favor," Ingrid retorted confidently. "If the department refuses to provide character references for its own employee, it would look highly suspicious."

Miranda Bailey, who had been silently observing the discussion until now, finally spoke: "I think we're missing the main point. Evan, you have to understand — no matter what documents we prepare, Captain Nash will be summoned to court. And he will have to answer uncomfortable questions under oath."

The room sank into heavy silence again. Buck leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He imagined Bobby in the courtroom, forced to choose between the truth and loyalty to the department. This thought was unbearable.

"Maybe... maybe this isn't worth it?" he whispered. "Maybe just leave everything as it is?"

"And then what?" Ingrid asked, her voice sharper than she intended. "You'll be left without insurance, without the ability to complete treatment, with no chance of returning to work. And the department will do everything to ensure you never wear the uniform again."

"But if I sue, I could lose all that too!" Buck's voice broke. "They'll never take me back if I sue them!"

Meredith put her hand on his wrist again. "Evan, look at me." When he slowly raised his eyes, she continued: "You've already been through so many surgeries, so much pain. You're fighting for the chance to be a firefighter again. Are you really willing to throw that all away because of fear?"

Suddenly, lightning flashed outside the window, for a second illuminating the gloomy interior of the room. A few seconds later, a thunderclap shook the building. The first heavy drops of rain finally appeared on the windows.

Buck watched the storm unfolding outside the window, and it seemed as if the same storm was raging inside his soul. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts.

"Alright," he finally said, and for the first time in the entire conversation, a firm note appeared in his voice. "I'll talk to Bobby today. In person. And depending on how that conversation goes..." he paused, "I'll make a decision."

Ingrid opened her mouth to object, but Miranda gestured for her to stop.

"That's reasonable," Bailey said. "Sometimes a personal conversation can accomplish more than tons of legal documents." She looked at Ingrid. "Two days won't make a difference, but they could change everything."

The lawyer reluctantly nodded. "Alright. Two days. But no more." She gathered her papers. "Mr. Buckley, remember — no matter what Captain Nash says to you, don't sign any documents without my knowledge. None."

Buck nodded, feeling the weight lift from his shoulders, if only temporarily. The decision was made — for now.

Meredith removed her hand, but the warmth of her touch remained. "Are you going to him alone?" she asked with slight anxiety.

"I have to," Buck simply replied. "This... this needs to be between us."

Outside the window, the rain intensified, turning into a real downpour. The wind bent the treetops, and streams of water flowed down the glass, distorting the view of the gloomy city.

Ingrid closed her laptop again with a decisive click. "Well, that's all for today then." She looked at Buck. "I'll expect your call tomorrow. And, Mr. Buckley..." she made a short pause, "good luck."

As they left the office, Buck felt a strange mixture of relief and horror. He had taken the first step — but now he faced the most difficult step: to look into the eyes of the man who had once been like a father to him, and ask why he had betrayed him.

And outside the window, the storm continued to rage, as if reflecting the turmoil in his soul. The thunderstorm was only just beginning.

 

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