Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pain was the first thing to greet him.

His mind surfaced from the depths, only to be met with unbearable agony. He longed to escape back into the void, where there was no torment, only peace.

Instinctively, he tried to sink back into oblivion, away from the agony that loomed. He grasped at the fading edges of unconsciousness, desperate to escape the suffering that awaited him in the waking world.

But then a voice called his name.

“BUCK! ”

The blissful darkness shattered, replaced by relentless pain.

A horridly familiar, near all-consuming throb of pain in his leg, pulling a groan of anguish from him before he even opened his eyes.

What - where - am I still under the truck? 

He had to be. What else could explain the feeling of being pinned, the pain in his leg? The months of recovery, rehab and retraining, they must have all been nothing but a cruel dream.

Buck groaned again - and heard a small, familiar voice calling his name. It felt like an echo, as if he’d heard it more than once.  

“BUCK! ”

Christopher?  

But that wasn’t right, Chris hadn’t been there that night. They’d been working, when the truck landed on his leg, Chris was at home, not with him, why—

“Buck! Buck, wake up. Please, wake up!”

Summoning strength from the depths of his being, Buck dragged the heavy slabs of concrete that seemed to have replaced his eyelids up - and saw Chris’s scared, bedraggled face above him. Blue sky with the sun shining brightly straight down on him dazzled Buck’s eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly. Why was he lying down?  

“Chris? ” Buck squinted, taking in the child's damp, straggly hair, matted into messy locks across his forehead with bewilderment. The boy was peering down at him through glasses smudged almost opaque with crusty white crystals, one lens spiderwebbed with cracks - and that was what finally had Buck slamming back into reality.

The tsunami. They’d been in a fucking tsunami. How had he forgotten that?

“Buck. You woke up.” Chris sounded so damned relieved. How long had he been out? Buck had no clue. What the hell had happened? 

He thought hard. It was an effort, struggling to make his mind work through the waves of pain radiating up from his leg. There was something seriously wrong with it, Buck knew, but he didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to face another serious injury. Wanted to delay the inevitable as long as he could.

Then he remembered and a delayed reaction to fear had Buck gasping loudly. Chris had fallen into the water again, off the ladder truck that they’d been huddled on with all those other people, and he’d gone in after him. He reached up and cupped his hand to Chris’s cheek, needing to touch the boy, to reassure himself he was there. That he had found Chris again. It was a miracle. 

He didn’t even want to think about what could have happened, had he not found Chris a second time.   

“H-hey, buddy. A-are you okay? Are you hurt?” There were no visible injuries that Buck could see, but first responders knew just how dangerous hidden injuries could be.

“I’m o-kay,” Chris huffed, pressing his cheek against Buck’s hand for a moment. “But Buck - your leg. It’s—”

“Stuck, I know Chris. I know.” He still didn’t want to look. Instead, Buck looked around them, trying to figure out where they were, what had happened. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Chris said quietly, mimicking Buck and looking around.

The wave had receded, washing them back towards the beach. Not all the way, Buck saw. There were buildings around them still, although none he recognized. As he looked around, Buck saw that he was lying across the hood of a car, his head and the top of his shoulders propped up on the windshield. It must have been shoved under another by the force of the wave because the underside of a second car was almost within arm’s reach, rearing up over them on an angle. With no bumper, panels mangled and dented, windows broken and paint scraped away in several places, it looked like a complete wreck. He assumed the one he was lying on was in a similar condition.

Buck had a sinking, terrifying feeling that the second car was the reason for the pain pulsing in his leg.

He’d managed to find Chris again, after jumping off the engine, the two of them being tossed around underwater like clothes in a washing machine until Buck got them to the surface. They’d hit unseen debris so many times his body had felt like a battering ram as he’d wrapped himself around Chris as best he could. That had made it harder to keep the boy's head out of the water though, so Buck had hefted him up higher in his arms, until Chris’s head was well above his own.

The water had begun to drop just after that - but then they slammed into several large objects one after another like bingo balls. Buck took most of the impacts, protecting Chris with his own body. But something grabbed hold of his leg and held on, jerking Buck to a stop so unexpectedly that Chris had nearly been torn from his arms by the force of the current.

He hadn’t noticed the pain at first, too busy trying to stop Chris from being swept away from him while also keeping his face out of the water. If he swallowed any water he disregarded it. That didn’t matter. The only important thing was protecting Christopher.

Save him. Don’t let go. Save him. Don’t let go. Please—

It had felt like someone had answered his wordless, desperate pleas when the water began to drop.

Together, Buck and Chris had slumped down onto something solid, as the ocean drained away around them, sounds of trickling water replacing the roar of the rushing wave. Buck on his back, Chris atop him in his arms. Whether it was pain, shock or exhaustion that had caused him to pass out then, Buck didn’t know. Shrugging mentally, he added it to the list of all the other things he didn’t know, and stopped worrying about it. He had plenty of more important things to worry about - like Chris. And his leg.

He’d put it off long enough. Pretending there was nothing wrong would do no good. Buck was stuck and until he looked at his leg nothing was going to change that. He couldn’t solve the problem until he knew how bad it was. So, taking a deep breath, Buck pushed himself up onto his elbows and took his first look at his leg.

Or rather, at his knee.

His knee, with his thigh above it, was all he could see of his left leg. Beyond his knee, his leg was below the frame of the car but that wasn’t why he couldn’t see it. No, he couldn’t see it because the engine block of the car looming over them was lying on top of his lower leg.

The heaviest part of a car, pressing down directly on his shin, or maybe his ankle, he couldn’t tell for sure.

Violent nausea surged up Buck’s throat as he stared at it. Somewhere deep inside his mind a voice was screaming No! No, no, NO! Externally though, Buck made no sound at all, apart from a convulsive swallow, eyes locked on the horror before him. 

It did nothing to ease the bile he could feel building up, so he tried again. That time, Buck managed to move the sick feeling further down his throat, making it easier to breathe. He had to be able to breathe. There was something he needed to do. He needed to get Chris out of here. The whole fucking reason he and Chris had even been at the pier at all was because Bobby hadn’t wanted Buck to come back to work yet - because of the risk of him getting injured while on blood thinners. 

The irony made him nauseous all over again.

He couldn’t allow himself the luxury of being sick, though. Could be bleeding unknowingly below the crush point, no faster than anyone else but without the clotting factor that other people had. If he was bleeding, it wouldn’t stop. Blood loss could cause him to pass out and not wake again, leaving Chris scared and alone in the middle of the aftermath of a tsunami.

Buck couldn’t bear the idea of doing that to Christopher again. The boy had been traumatized enough already.

“Chris,” he croaked. Cleared his throat. Tried again. “Chris.” He managed to be a bit louder that time. “I need your help, buddy.”

“I can help you, Buck,” Chris replied stoutly. He was trying to be brave, Buck could tell, though his lower lip was quivering and tears shone in his eyes.

“I know you can,” Buck said, forcing himself to sound confident. “We need to tourniquet my leg with my belt. Gotta wrap it around as tight as we can get it. I need you to look around and find something to write with. Anything will do.”

Buck wished his phone had survived the first wave. Wished he could call for help or talk to Eddie. Maddie. Bobby. Anyone other than a terrified eight-year-old who shouldn’t have to experience any of this. As he lay back and unbuckled his belt, Buck considered the bitter irony that had led to him wearing his wide leather one that day. He’d lost weight recently and had had to punch new holes in it just to get it to fit, something he couldn’t do with some of his other ones. Now it might just save his life.

“Carefully! Chris, be careful! Anything could shift or fall or—” Buck spoke frantically as Chris began to scramble around the pile of debris that surrounded them then stopped, not wanting to frighten him about the likely dozens of potential risks around them. He held his breath instead, doing his best to keep track of Chris by sound.

“Maybe a glove box?” he called, just so he could hear Chris respond, and sat up with a quiet groan. He felt like he’d been hit by a ladder truck, an experience he was unfortunately intimately familiar with.

“Okay,” Chris replied. He was breathing heavily, making Buck worry about his lungs. CP and uncontrolled submersion in rough water was not a good mix. He’d try to listen to them when Chris got back. He was somewhere behind Buck, and uneasiness roiled inside him at having the child out of sight.

Then he realized he may have just sent Chris to look in a car that could have deceased bodies inside it.

Shit .

“Never mind Chris, just come back, okay kiddo? I had another idea,” Buck called, hoping he sounded calm though he was anything but. Jesus. What kind of idiot sends a kid searching through debris after a tsunami for fucks sake?

“Okay Buck,” Chris’s voice was quiet, though he could hear him coming closer. Buck didn’t know if he’d seen anything or not. He hoped not. Really, really hoped not.

He didn’t know whether to ask Chris or not.  

As he waited, Buck dipped his finger in a cut on his arm and moved it around, making the wound open more and the blood flow out faster. For once, the blood thinners were going to be helpful instead of a hindrance. Swallowing away the pain and fear when he looked at where his leg disappeared between two cars, Buck reached out and painstakingly wrote the time in his blood on the glass windshield high above and behind him, twisting awkwardly to reach it. The numbers were scraggly and messy but clear enough to be read. 

At least his watch was still working so he knew the time to write. He was grateful that Ali had talked him into buying the waterproof model when his last watch broke. His phone was long gone, lost to the same waves that had nearly taken their lives. How close they’d come to being lost themselves made him shudder, making the last number even messier. 

Then he got more blood on his finger and dragged it down the center of his forehead, then across.  

“Eww Buck! Why did you do that!” Chris sounded grossed out, his face scrunched up with disgust as he reappeared beside the car.

“So when we’re found they know I have a tourniquet on,” Buck explained. “The time is so they know when we put it on, because if it’s on too long…” He sighed, wishing he didn’t have to worry Chris. Better Buck told him the reality though, instead of strangers when they were found and likely separated for a time. “If it’s too long I’ll lose my leg.”

Chris’s face went pale as his eyes grew huge. “Lose it?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Chris,” Buck said. “Yes, there is a chance I will lose my leg. If I have to choose, I’d rather lose that than uh. Anything w-worse happening.”

Shit. I really suck at this.

“Anything worse - like you dying?” Chris sucked his lower lip into his mouth and gnawed on it, his eyes boring into Buck’s relentlessly.

“We’re not gonna let that happen, alright?” Buck forced himself to sound as positive as he could. “Let’s get this tourniquet on. Can you slide the end of my belt under my leg, just below the knee?”

Buck could do that himself, though it would hurt him. But he wanted to distract Chris and giving him something to do was the only thing he could think of. He watched as Chris did what he’d said, then instructed him on how to loop the belt through the buckle above his leg. It would be better if it was doubled over but they couldn’t do that with the end of Buck’s leg trapped and out of reach. Even a less than ideal tourniquet was better than nothing at all.

“Okay, I’m going to pull it tight now,” Buck said, sitting up and patting Chris on the shoulder as he moved aside to make room for Buck. “Chris, I have to pull this really, really tight. It’s going to hurt a lot so I don’t want you to be frightened if I make scary sounds or pass out. I’ll be okay, alright? Just… just stay with me. Don’t go looking for help, I need you to stay here, where I know you’re safe. Okay?”

“I won’t leave you, Buck,” Chris promised solemnly, staring at him with wide, shining eyes. His lips were trembling. Shit. Even when he was trying not to, Buck was scaring him. He thought quickly.

“Do you know that the term ‘tourniquet’ originated in the late 1600s from the French word ‘tourner’, which means to turn or tighten?” he asked conversationally as he began pulling on the belt. A grunt of pain escaped his lips when it began to dig in.

“Is the ter-ni-ket going to kill you?” Chris’s voice cut through the pain like ice. He hadn’t latched onto Buck’s titbit of knowledge like he usually did. 

“No! No, Chris, it’s not!” Buck said, his head whipping up to stare at Chris. “It’s like, uh, a garden hose. If a car rolls onto the hose, the water stops, right?” He looked at Chris until the boy nodded slowly. “The same thing happens with a tourniquet - you compress the blood vessels until blood flow to the limb is cut off. I’m doing it to stop my leg from bleeding, not to make it worse.”

“But if the car moves off the hose it still works,” Chris said slowly. “You said if it’s on too long you might lose your leg.”

“Well buddy, unfortunately humans aren’t made of rubber. Imagine if we were, we could bounce all over the place every day!” Buck’s pathetic attempt at a joke was ruined by the pained grunt he let out as he kept ratcheting his belt tighter and tighter. 

Chris didn’t laugh. His eyes were glued to what Buck was doing.

Buck sighed, knowing that he had to be honest with Chris, even if it was hard. “You’re right. We don’t recover a-as easily. But if I h-have to choose between losing my leg and something w-worse—”

“Worse? You do mean dying, don’t you! Like Mommy died!” Chris’s eyes were impossibly huge as they darted up to meet Buck’s, pinning him in place more securely than the car on his leg. They shone with tears, several overflowing and trickling down his cheeks. “Are you going to die too, Buck?” 

Fuck . He thought he’d distracted Chris from that thought. Buck had barely finished the thought before Chris threw himself forward, landing against Buck’s chest with a solid thump that punched a startled ‘oof’ from him. He threw his arms around the child and hugged him as tightly as he could, ignoring his pain. 

“No!” Buck murmured the word into Chris’s damp hair, a denial of everything they were both thinking and a promise Buck shouldn’t be making. He did it anyway. 

“No, Chris,” he said more gently. “I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen, okay?
Even if it means losing my leg. I’d choose that over leaving you every time. W-we can be crutch buddies, right?” 

Snuffling, face pressed into Buck’s neck, Chris nodded, then muttered, “Ri-ight,” dubiously. 

He was still crying. Buck held him like that for as long as he dared, but the more time that passed the closer he was getting to passing out. He had to get the tourniquet on properly before that happened.

Pressing a kiss to the top of Chris’s head, Buck moved him back gently and returned to his task. He bit his lip to muffle his grunts, each one coinciding with another yank on the belt. The pain was growing worse and worse, making it hard to think or speak.

But there was one more thing he needed Chris to know.

“Chris.” It was more of a gasp than anything. “I think I’ll probably pass out in a minute. I’m gonna need you to feel my pulse if I do. I’m so sorry buddy, but there’s a chance the shock is too much and my heart might stop. If that happens—”

“I know how to find a pulse. And do CPR,” Chris said, a look of determination on his face. “Daddy taught me.”

Buck blinked at the unexpected information, blessing Eddie for his forethought. “Your daddy is a clever guy, isn’t he? I hope you won’t need to do it on me. But if you do, don’t be scared. Use all your strength and don’t worry if you hear cracking or popping sounds. That means it’s working. And call out for help, too.”

“I can do it,” Chris said earnestly. “I’ll look after you, Buck.”

The chances of Chris being able to compress Buck's chest enough to keep his heart beating were slim. Their size and strength differences were just too great. But he couldn't think of what else to do. And god, Buck wanted to cry at the look of resolution on the face of the eight year old kneeling on a wrecked car hood in the aftermath of a disaster, vowing to help him, the adult and first responder. 

Buck sighed again and dredged the last of his strength up with a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Chris. I wish— I wish you didn’t have to see this. You can turn your back if you want. It’s okay.”

Chris looked offended at his suggestion, a look so similar to Eddie’s that Buck would have laughed if he could. Instead, he yanked the belt one last time, harder than any before it and gasped at the wave of excruciating agony that roared from his leg up through his entire body.

 He was unconscious before he took another breath.

Buck opened his eyes to darkness and confusion.

What? Where—

With consciousness returned pain, slamming into him the same way Buck had slammed into the car he was lying on. He groaned, memory hitting him nearly as hard.

“B-Buck?”

The quiet, hesitant voice broke his heart. Chris sounded so young, so scared. He’d done that to Chris. It had been Buck’s idea to go to the pier. They should have just gone to the movies. All of this was his fault. He rolled his head, finding Chris sitting on the ground, his back leaning against the rear tire of the other car. The child was huddled in on himself, arms curled around his bent knees in a way that Buck was sure must be painful for his leg muscles. Chris was looking up at Buck hopefully over his folded arms.

“Hey kiddo,” Buck breathed out in a sigh. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m okay,” Chris replied, though he was gnawing on his lip anxiously. “How are you?”

Buck’s first impulse was to huff and roll his eyes at the question. He restrained it, figuring that reaction wouldn’t help Chris feel any better. “Still here, just like I said I would be,” he replied instead, trying to smile. “Has it been dark for long?”

“Yeah.” Chris’s reply was forlorn, setting off alarm bells in the back of Buck’s mind. 

Buck remembered he was wearing a watch and peered at it in the dim light – realizing it wasn’t completely dark as he did. There was a golden flickering light coming from somewhere, casting enough light to read his watch by.

“Fuck.” The curse dropped out without his meaning to. It had been hours. Well past the accepted safety limit of two.

His leg was dead.

Despair threatened to consume Buck, and he cast around desperately for a distraction. He couldn’t fall apart in front of Christopher. He refused to. There was a beach towel draped over him that hadn’t been there before and Buck latched onto that with an almost frenzied relief.

“You found me a towel?” he croaked, suddenly aware of how dry his tongue was. Not just his tongue, but his entire mouth and throat too. His face and arms felt hot, probably sunburned. Buck knew how dangerous it was to get dehydrated, and laying in the sun for…however long it had been certainly wouldn’t have helped. Not to mention however much blood he’d lost. He wished they had something to drink. 

“I found it in a bag,” Chris responded almost shyly. “And some water and other stuff too. Here, you should have a drink.” He stood cautiously, holding out a full water bottle and Buck nearly wept. There Chris was, unknowingly answering his wish like an angel. 

Reaching out a shaking hand, Buck noticed that cloth – a T–shirt? had been tied around the cut on his arm. “Did you do this, too?”

The thought of Christopher giving him first aid while he was unconscious threatened to throw him into a completely different kind of spiral. 

What else had he done - and seen? Had he seen anyone who hadn’t been as lucky as them - anyone who hadn’t survived? Buck had tried so hard when they were sitting on the engine to protect him from that. If Chris had seen dead bodies… Buck didn’t know what he could do about it. If he had, it couldn’t be changed now. But how would that affect Chris, once they were out of this? What would Eddie think, when he found out what Buck had exposed his child to? 

There were no answers and so Buck dejectedly shoved the despair away as best he could. He couldn’t afford to dwell on anything that wouldn’t help them get out of there safely. Had to pull it together. With an effort, Buck pulled his thoughts back to the present and focused on Chris. 

“Yeah,” the boy was saying, still quiet. “Dad taught me. ‘You have to keep someone warm if they’ve been hurt. El-iv-ate their head and try to stop their bleeding’,” he parroted, then sniffled, swiping his forearm across an eye. “He taught me how to make a fire, too. I found a lighter.”

The flickering light— Buck’s head swiveled (part of him noting some sort of soft cloth under it, cushioning him from the hard windshield), and nearly dislodged the spout of the water bottle he’d been eagerly drinking from. He had to stop swallowing as surprise had him almost spitting the precious liquid out.

A few feet to the side of the car he was stuck on, just beyond where Christopher had been sitting, a small fire blazed merrily. He could feel its warmth, now that he was aware of it, and stared at what Chris had done. There was an area beside them that had less debris than before, creating a somewhat clear space. On one side of it was a ring of metal objects – Buck could see part of what looked like a bent light post protruding out from under the car that had crushed his— Nope. Don’t think about that .

He kept looking. The light post pole bordered one side of the fire and curved a bit around another, where it met other things that Buck couldn’t identify through the fire’s light but looked metallic to him. Inside the ring, he could see pieces of timber that looked like broken chairs or maybe a table, crackling with an achingly familiar sound as they burned.

This might be the closest I ever get to a fire again. 

He certainly wouldn’t be running into any as a firefighter anymore. It was no longer a potential ‘maybe’ he’d lose his leg. The time that had passed while he’d been unconscious had changed the maybe to a certainty. Buck was absolutely going to lose his leg. 

Again, he did his best not to think about that. Chris needed him. And what the child had achieved, on his own in the situation they were stuck in, deserved all the praise Buck could give him. 

“You did all this? Chris, you’re incredible!” Buck said, making sure his amazement sounded in his voice. To think that Chris, a young child who had mobility issues on the best of days, had managed all that? He struggled with fine motor control but had managed to work a lighter and light a fire. How long had it taken him? Buck had been out for hours, he knew. Had Chris toiled away making him warm and comfortable the whole time?

Ducking his head shyly, Chris said, “I found a stick for a crutch. And moving kept me warm,” matter-of-factly. Looking closer, Buck saw that he was clad only in the clothes he’d been wearing when the tsunami hit, a sturdy stick leaning against the car beside him.

 “Chris!” Buck gasped, horrified, and snatched up the towel covering him. “Here, take this, you must be freezing!” He half sat up, holding the towel out towards the child. 

“No!” Chris stepped back away from the car Buck was on, glaring at him. “No! I have to keep you warm! D-dad said!” 

He looked both anxious and angry, standing there with his stick under one arm, one little fist clenched. They stared at each other, Buck utterly nonplussed. His hand shook, making the towel flutter, and Chris’s glare increased in ferocity until he looked similar to the way Eddie had when he was frustrated about Shannon coming back into their lives and all the drama she had caused. 

Oh god. Chris had just lost his mom. And now he’d spent hours all but alone, with his dad’s friend badly hurt and unconscious. He’d tried to help and now Buck was making him feel like what he’d done wasn’t right. Buck wasn’t naive enough to think Chris saw him as another parent, but they were friends at the very least. And he was the adult who’d been responsible for Chris that day. Chris’s father had left him with Buck, trusting Buck to keep his son safe. 

Not only had Buck not kept him safe, but now he was invalidating Chris’s efforts to help. He felt like the most useless, irresponsible person ever. In that moment, Buck loathed himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck said, hearing his voice shake. Pain and exhaustion were getting to him. He carefully spread the towel back over himself and lay back down. “You’re right. It was smart of you to remember that and find all these things to help us, Chris. To help me. Thank you. Do you know what one of the hardest things for first responders to learn how to do is?” 

Blinking, Chris frowned, his face scrunching in thought before he shook his head. 

“It’s looking after ourselves,” Buck told him gently. “If I’m in a burning building and I take off my breathing mask to give to someone I’m trying to save, I could inhale smoke and get sick and not be able to save anyone at all. So we have to look after ourselves, too. It’s really hard to learn and I’m not very good at it - your dad is heaps better than me,” he finished, panting a little. He was starting to feel lightheaded. It was getting hard to breathe, too. 

“Because he was a soldier?” Chris asked innocently.

“Maybe,” Buck huffed a small laugh and shrugged a bit, wincing as the movement sent pain spearing through him. “Maybe it’s just me, I don’t know. Chris, you did really good with everything you’ve done. You’ve done so much, I’m really impressed. I just want to make sure you look after yourself too, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Okay,” Chris said quietly. His glasses flashed as he looked towards the fire, reflecting the flickering light. They were dirtier than that they’d been before, smudges over the cracked lens like he’d pushed them up repeatedly with dirty fingers. Given their surroundings and how much Chris must have moved around around to do what he’d done, that was probably exactly what had made his glasses even dirtier. 

“I’m not cold anymore, though,” he added pointedly. ”The fire is really warm.” 

“It is, isn’t it,” Buck agreed with a smile. “That was really smart. It will help people find us too. Thank you for making it - for everything you did to help me.”

Chris ducked his head at Buck’s gratitude, and said, “It’s been a really long time, Buck,” dolefully. “Do you think someone will come soon?” 

His words reminded Buck of something he had to do. “I hope so, I really do. But hey, Chris, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

“Has it been too long?” The look Chris sent his way was heartbreaking in its resigned awareness.

“Yeah,” Buck sighed. “It has.” 

Chris’s face crumpled, his lower lip wobbling before tears began sliding down his cheeks from under his glasses. “I called and called but no one came. I banged on the other car with my stick to make noise so it was louder but it didn’t work. I thought about going to look for help but— I promised I wouldn’t leave you,” he finished, so quietly Buck could barely hear him. “I’m sorry you’re going to lose your leg because of me, Buck.” 

Horror flooded Buck, sending his rapidly growing tiredness fleeing. “No, Chris oh my god, no it’s not your fault! You did so good, you’ve done so much! Come here - please Chris, come here!” He lurched onto his side as best he could, reaching his arms out for the boy. 

Chris staggered towards him, weeping loudly, holding his own arms out. Buck grabbed him and hauled him up, up and over his own body until he was lying on his back again, this time with Chris in his arms. Pain screamed through him at the movement and effort but Buck didn’t give a damn about that. Chris was blaming himself and he wasn’t about to let him think that for another second. 

“I think my leg was probably gone the second it got stuck, Chris. Nothing you could have done would have changed that, even if we’d been rescued hours ago,” Buck murmured into Chris’s ragged hair, uncaring for the dirt and salt encrusted in it. He stroked the boys back, holding him close. “And it wasn’t your fault this happened. I was the one who said we should go to the pier, remember? I’m sorry that this happened to you. It’s all my fault.”

“You didn’t make the wave come, Buck. No one can do that, not even superheroes,” Chris pointed out in a wobbly voice. He sniffled as Buck felt his neck growing wet where the boy’s face was pressed into it.

“I think Aquaman might be able to,” Buck replied, feeling his heart ease a little when he felt an exasperated snort of air tickle his skin in response. “Listen. Nothing has changed from what I told you before. I would rather lose my leg and be able to stay with you and your dad than—”

“Than die like mommy did,” Chris finished, his voice very small. 

The slight relief Buck had been feeling vanished and he sighed, long and deep. “Yeah. I’m sorry kiddo. I wish that hadn’t happened.” 

“Me too,” Chris whispered softly, pressing himself closer to Buck’s side. “And I wish you weren’t going to lose your leg.” 

“So do I, but I’ll be okay, alright? I might need you to teach me all your tricks with your crutches, though.” 

Chris lifted his head and stared into Buck’s eyes solemnly. “I will. I promise.” 

“Thanks Chris. I know you’ll be a big help, just like you were here today. Your dad is going to be so proud of you, just like I am,” Buck replied just as seriously. “You did really good.” 

He wished he could leave the boy in peace, he really did. But there was one more thing he still had to ask him to do. 

“Hey Chris?” Buck lifted the shoulder under Chris’s head a bit, to get his attention. 

“Mmm?” God, he sounded so sleepy. How had he managed to stay awake for so long, after the experience he’d been through? The kid was amazing, he really was. 

“Chris, if I’m not awake when we’re found, I need you to tell them to cut my leg off. They’re not going to be able to move that car, not in this mess, they won’t have the equipment to do that. So they’ll have to cut it off to get me free. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” It was more a whisper than anything, but Buck heard it well enough. Chris slid off Buck’s chest to slump on the hood beside him, head dangling miserably as he sniffled. 

“Chris. Chris,” Buck had to repeat himself before Chris blinked and met his eyes with a jerk. “I need you to be brave, can you do that for me? I need you to remember something very important for me, so you can tell whoever comes to help.” 

He could feel exhaustion plucking at the edges of his consciousness. He thought the tourniquet had probably slowed the blood loss from his leg, but his body was starting to shut down, maybe from the shock. He wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer.

“I’m probably going to pass out again. It’s something your body does when you’re badly hurt sometimes. I’ll try not to, but Chris, if I do I want you to be prepared. I need you to tell anyone who comes that they need to amputate here.” 

Buck pushed himself laboriously up until he was sitting as much as he could. He slid his finger under the cloth on his arm and dipped his finger into the cut again then drew a line across the top of his shin with the blood, just below his knee. He hoped it was enough for someone to see, since he’d done it by feel. “It’s easier to cut the bones below the knee. They’re not as thick as the thigh bone. Hey! Hey no it’s okay, come here.” 

Chris had burst into tears as Buck spoke, and when Buck reached his arms out the boy fell into them, landing on his chest once more. “I don’t want to cut your leg off!” he wailed, hands clutching the front of Buck’s shirt. 

“You won’t have to,” Buck said firmly, holding him tightly as he eased them both down until he was lying on the bonnet again. “But buddy – someone is going to have to. The tourniquet cut the circulation hours ago. It can’t be saved. But I can be, if it’s cut off, do you understand? I can live without my leg. People do it all the time.”

“Like para- para ‘lympians?” Chris asked, sounding a little calmer. Of course he knew what they were. Eddie had always made it a priority to show his son examples of other people with disabilities and what they could do. He was such a good father. 

“Yeah, like paralympians,” Buck agreed. “Listen, I think we’re both pretty tired. Let’s just lie here for a bit,” he suggested then, and felt Chris nod against his chest. They didn’t say anything else after that, just laid together. It wasn’t long before Buck felt Chris’s breathing even out and slow, his body growing heavier until it was limp on top of Buck’s. He was asleep. 

Moving carefully, Buck draped the towel over Chris too as best he could. Then he rested his head back against the makeshift pillow Chris had found him and stared up at the stars above. There were more than he was used to seeing in LA, a side effect from the power outage darkening the city around them. Buck wondered how far the tsunami had spread. How much damage it had done. It must be a lot for rescue to take so long to find them. 

He hoped the 118 were alright. Hoped it wasn’t them who’d find them. Eddie didn’t deserve to see his son like this.

Buck could feel sleep pulling at him, too. He hoped it was sleep, anyway. Didn’t want to pass out and leave Chris on his own again. The pain he’d been working hard to ignore had eased into a sort of whole body thing, not as sharp in his leg like it had been. He hoped that was only a symptom of shock and not a sign of anything more sinister.

His thoughts grew maudlin with fatigue as he lay there alone in the dark. How many lives had been changed forever, like theirs had been? How many people had died? 

Unable to do anything else, Buck began to pray, something he couldn’t remember ever doing before. 

Dear God, I don’t want to die. 

Please, don’t let me die. 

Don’t let me die for Chris to find when he wakes. 

Don’t let me do that to him, not after everything else I’ve put him through. 

Please. 

Chapter Text

Athena fought her way through the rubbish and the debris, keeping one eye on the flickering light she could just barely see in the distance. 

She’d been hailed over the radio by Dispatch, someone with a drone had spotted a small fire on one of the streets near the beach, in the worst of the disaster zone. Normally, in a mass casualty event this large, any smaller fires were a low priority. Dispatch had said they wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but the fire was apparently in a makeshift fire pit with two people huddled on top of a car nearby. The drone operator thought they’d seen movement, and they insisted on sending someone to look. 

And because all the LAFD crews were still dealing with the chaos and mess the tsunami had created in other areas, it was Athena who’d been sent to see if the two were even still alive, and if they were, find out why they hadn’t made their own way out of the ruins. It was difficult, making her way through the rubble of the city with nothing more than a flashlight to guide her way. But she had to find these people, had to help them. Nobody else was going to be able to. 

As she got closer, she could see the fire near what looked like a multi car pile up. Barely visible was a body, likely an adult by the size, lying atop one of the cars, a smaller person sitting with them. She picked up the pace, trying to get to them.

“Hey!” Athena called when she thought they were in earshot. “Are you okay?”

The smaller form looked up. “Here!” The breathless voice sounded like a child, a boy stuck out here in all this destruction. Poor thing. “We’re here! Please help us!”

Working her way closer, clambering over the rubble, Athena began being able to make out more details. One of the people was much bigger, laid out on the hood of a car while the smaller one was huddled behind them, so close they must be touching. As the beam of Athena’s flashlight reached them, her heart nearly skipped a beat. She wasn’t all that close with some of Bobby’s firefighters, but she was suddenly sickeningly sure she recognized the one lying on the car, even from a distance.

“Help us!” The smaller figure cried out desperately, kneeling more upright. “His leg is stuck!”

Athena hated the image that put in her head, and she tried to speed up, climbing over debris. As she drew near, she was horrified to be proven right. 

It was Buck, the firefighter as near to Bobby as a son. 

Buck, who’d only just gotten recertified after being crushed under a ladder truck several months ago. 

Buck, who’d nearly died on the floor of Athena’s house not even two weeks ago, when a pulmonary embolism almost killed him again. A man Athena herself now cared for, despite their rocky start. 

Buck, who was here, in the worst part of the destruction left by the tsunami, an area so destroyed that rescue crews hadn’t even made it there yet. And he appeared to be trapped under one of the cars. 

Almost more horrifyingly, Athena saw that the smaller figure was Christopher Diaz, Eddie’s son and one of Harry’s closest friends. Her heart leapt up her throat until she thought it might crawl right out of her mouth at the realization that they must have been caught up in the wave. 

“Christopher, are you alright? Are you hurt?” Athena called out urgently as she approached.

“I’m okay, but Buck needs help!” The boy shouted back, sounding so painfully young and scared that her heart broke.

Athena grimaced as she drew nearer, seeing that Christopher was definitely right. The twin sights of Buck pinned under the ladder truck months ago and coughing up blood in her backyard more recently had been awful, among the worst things she’d seen in a long career, but they were nothing compared to what he looked like now. 

Buck was sprawled across the hood of the car, a towel across his body, but his left leg was bent awkwardly off to one side. It only took a moment to see that that was where the biggest problem was: the front part of another car was sitting where Buck’s ankle should be.

“We fell asleep and now I can’t wake him up. I got him water and wrapped his arm up and kept him warm but now he won’t wake up!” Christopher told her anxiously. His voice sounded painfully hoarse, and she wondered if he’d had taken any water for himself. “I built a fire to keep him warm and to signal for help. I even remembered to have it off to the side, so it wouldn’t be in the way when people came to help us. But nobody ever came.”

Good lord. Her heart broke all over again at the desolation she could hear in his voice. How many hours had they been stuck there with Buck unconscious and Christopher essentially on his own? He must have been terrified. The thought of Harry in that situation… Athena had to force herself to not think about it. She had to focus. 

“There’s a lot of people that need help right now, Christopher,” Athena tried to explain as she finally got close enough to check Buck’s pulse. It was faster than she thought was normal, but not weak, which she hoped was a good sign. “We didn’t even know anyone was here until someone with a drone saw your fire. You did a good job, making that. It’s how we found you.”

Christopher didn’t react to her praise, a worrying sign. He looked down at Buck, reaching out to brush a hand through the man's matted curls. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, barely audible in the quiet night. “I’m supposed to tell you to cut off his leg. He said it would already be gone by the time somebody found us.”

Shock made her flashlight tremble. In its shaking light, Athena saw the T written on Buck’s forehead in cracked blood, long since dried brown, stark against his too-pale skin. It was something she would no doubt see in her nightmares once this was over. She glanced to the side, seeing a time written out on the windshield of the car, also in dried blood. It must have been the time Buck put a tourniquet on, but it was hours ago. Even Athena, with her scant first aid knowledge, knew there was no way to save his leg now. Buck, with his more in-depth training, had to know it too. But she still wanted to hear it from the man himself. And she wanted to hear his voice, wanted to make sure he was alive.

Wanted his forgiveness before she changed his life forever. 

Leaning against the side of the car, Athena curled her fingers up and started rubbing her knuckles deep into Buck’s sternum, hard. “You better wake up Buckaroo,” she ordered. “I am not doing this unless you are going to live, goddammit.”

Buck groaned, eyes fluttering as his body instinctively tried to move away from the pain of the sternal rub. “Thena?” His voice was barely audible. 

“That’s right, Buck,” Athena sighed in relief. “I know you expected a paramedic but I am not one and I need you to tell me how to do this so I don’t kill you in the process.”

An anguished squeak sound escaped from Christopher and Athena kicked herself as she saw him staring at her with wide, anguished eyes. 

“Chris,” Buck whispered, holding a trembling hand out towards the boy. “It’s alright. I won’t let that happen.” 

Athena watched as Christopher clutched Buck’s hand tightly. He didn’t speak, but she saw the telltale glint of tears shimmering behind his dirty, cracked glasses. Was he so dehydrated that he could no longer cry? Or was he following his father’s example and trying to stay strong? She wasn’t sure, but neither option seemed ideal to her.

“Are you sure I need to do this, Buck?” Athena asked, wanting to believe, even if only for a moment, that she wouldn’t have to do this. She prided herself on being calm in these situations, staying in control and focused, but this was a different beast altogether. This was someone she knew well, someone she cared about. And that pain inside was far too similar to what she’d felt only hours before, seeing the devastation on May’s face when the woman she’d tried to save from bleeding out had died in her arms, instead. The same devastation she’d felt herself, finding May unresponsive on their bathroom floor. 

May had lived. The woman at the traffic pile up earlier that day had lived too, by the grace of God and the strength of her daughter. She didn’t know what Buck’s fate would be. If he didn’t survive— if he died by her hand—

Athena couldn’t think like that. It had the potential to overwhelm her and that wouldn’t help anyone at all, least of all Buck. 

“There’s no more time. I-I can— feel myself starting t-to decompensate.” Buck’s breathing had changed as his eyes bored into hers, telling her what he wasn’t saying in words. She wasn’t familiar with the medical term well enough to know its definition, but she could see that he was getting worse even in the short time he’d been conscious.

Athena shook her head. “I’ll need to find something to help me carry you out of here.” She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to stall in any way she could, in the hope that a miracle would happen and those trained to do this sort of thing would arrive in time after all.

“Don’t— don’t bother.” Buck grunted. “I’ll hop if you can’t carry me. Athena. I need you t-to do this now. Please.”

Despairingly, Athena checked Buck’s pulse again and thought it was even faster than it had been before, but she hadn’t timed it either time so wasn’t sure. The skin on his neck was cool and clammy and when she cupped her hand to his cheek it was the same. 

His eyes kept fluttering closed whenever they stopped talking and took longer to open each time, like he was struggling to stay conscious. Shock was a bad thing, Athena knew. Could it actually kill someone? That, she didn’t know. 

All she knew was that she had to do this. No matter how much she didn’t want to. 

Athena took a deep breath, reaching up to her radio. “Dispatch, this is 727-L-30. I found the two people. I am about to do a field amputation of a lower left leg, I need that crew on Pine to be ready to receive him as soon as I get him there.”

“727-L-30, this is Dispatch. Are you sure about the amputation?” The radio crackled.

“He’s a firefighter, dispatch. Tied a tourniquet around his leg well over four hours ago. He knows what he’s accepting here,” Athena responded. “He told me he’s starting to decompensate and doesn’t have any more time for us to wait for a crew to be free. I’m getting him out of here.”

“If you insist,” Josh’s voice crackled. “Can he identify himself?”

Athena looked at Buck, who hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Josh, it’s Buck,” Athena spoke into the radio, knowing it was an open channel and all of the 118 would be able to hear her as well. Knowing that every firefighter in the city knew Buck’s name after the truck bombing. Knowing that the rest of their family was listening, and she was breaking their hearts and their innocent ignorance, destroying their belief that Buck and Chris hadn’t been at the pier today.

“If any of the 118 are listening, I have Buck. And I have Christopher.” Athena hoped that Eddie was listening. She knew that if the situation was reversed, and she was listening to Eddie with one of her kids, she wouldn’t be able to think about anything else until she knew her kids were safe. “He’s okay. It’s only Buck that’s hurt. But I am not about to watch him die. Dispatch, tell the crew to be ready.”

There was a moment of silence, then the radio crackled again.

“Sergeant, this is Captain Niles of the 154 on Pine,” another voice said. “We have to trust that you, and he, know what you’re doing. If you two are right, he doesn’t have time to wait for us to get to him. You get him to us, and we’ll get him out of here. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Athena responded, then clipped her handset back onto her radio. She pulled her first aid kit from her belt, wishing it held more than the basic equipment. But then police officers were never supposed to need to do anything more than basic first aid. 

Opening the kit, she assessed her supplies. A couple pairs of surgical gloves, the irony of the name not lost on her at all. Some alcohol swabs. A tourniquet, trauma shears, a single dressing, some gauze and surgical tape, and a chest shield which would be no help at all in the situation they were in.

Buck’s breathing was shallow, lines of pain etched into his face as he watched her preparations through slitted eyes. “Shears’re— no good. You got— field knife?”

“Of course,” Athena said, reaching to the back of her utility belt. It was standard to carry one during rescue missions, to cut people loose from anything they got tangled in, among other uses. She never thought this would be a use she would need, though. Quickly, she laid everything out where she could reach it all, and pulled a pair of gloves on. 

Taking a deep breath to fortify herself, Athena looked back at Buck’s leg and raised the knife. She wasn’t going to let Bobby lose another son. She wasn’t going to let Buck die. And she was not going to vomit while she cut off his leg. She was going to get him out of here, get him to the hospital, and then she could have all the breakdown she wanted. The breakdown she was probably going to need. 

And the nightmares that would follow.

Keeping it all in mind, Athena gathered up all the determination that she could and brought the knife down.

“ATHENA, STOP!” 

The roar over the radio nearly made her stab Buck’s leg, it startled her so much. She swore under her breath and reached for her handset. Before she’d even touched it, it crackled to life again. 

“Athena, wait. You need to wait, I’m on my way, I’ll do it, alright? Athena, I’ll do it!”  

“Daddy!” Christopher’s cry overlapped the end of the desperate words called over the radio as the child began to cry. 

It was Eddie. Of course it was. Athena dropped her head and sighed with relief, her hands shaking. Someone with actual medical training was coming, a field medic no less who’d probably done this exact procedure before. 

She wasn't going to have to do it herself. 

Then there was a thump of something against her arm, followed by a tug on her sleeve. 

“Give... radio,” Buck muttered, eyes barely open. His hand tugged her shirt again. Athena stared at him for a second, then handed over the handset. 

“Eddie— itz— too late,” Buck panted into the radio, the effort of speaking having a visible effect on him as his hand started to shake. “I’m— starting to lose it, ‘kay? Dun’ave— a’more time. If ‘Thena doesn’t— do thiz now, I’m gonna—”

He stopped, breathing heavily, and Athena saw his eyes go to Christopher, who was curling in on himself tightly. Athena saw the decision to protect the child on Buck’s face. 

“She— needs— to do thiz now, Edz. Do you— geddit?” Buck asked intently. His head fell back and he closed his eyes as they waited for Eddie’s response, Buck’s hand dropping to land on the car hood with a thud. Athena caught the radio handset as it fell from his grasp. 

“Buck —” Even over the radio, Athena could hear the despair in Eddie’s voice. She tried to imagine what it would be like, if she had the knowledge necessary but had to listen to someone else do this to Bobby; and couldn’t. Holding May in her arms and waiting for an ambulance, depending on them to save her daughter, was the closest she’d ever gotten, and she hated how similar all of this was feeling. 

“Athena, what are his stats?” Eddie abruptly demanded. He wasn’t giving up yet. 

“His skin is cool and clammy,” she reported as she checked Buck’s pulse again. “His pulse has sped up both times that I’ve checked it since I got here. It also feels different. Weak?” She didn’t know how to describe it, but she knew it didn’t feel right.

“Thready?” Eddie asked and before she could even answer continued, “Is there a difference between his peripheral - between his wrist pulse and the one in his throat?” 

“Yes, I can barely feel it in his wrist,” Athena reported after checking. Every question and answer increased the dread she felt, the knowledge that she wasn’t going to get out of this after all.

“Shit. Check his circulation. Squeeze a fingernail and count how many seconds it takes for color to come back, it should be within two seconds.” Eddie ordered. 

Athena did as he instructed, Buck barely reacting when she picked his hand up. Then, “Four seconds,” she told Eddie, reaching across Buck’s body so she could check his other one. “Five on his other hand,” she added before Eddie had responded. 

For a long moment, there was no response at all, and she wondered if her radio was broken and or had a flat battery.  

“He’s breathing faster, and his skin is sort of… gray,” she added after checking the light on the base unit. Where he was lying, Buck sighed heavily, and reached a shaking hand out to pat Christopher’s shoulder. 

“Fuck!” 

The impassioned curse was loud across the radio and made her flinch. Then, the words she’d been dreading. 

“Buck’s right. You can’t wait.” 

Athena looked at Buck, who’d dragged his eyes open again to look back at her. Neither spoke. 

“‘Thena, you have to.” Christopher’s voice was quiet but she heard it easily. “You have to save his life. I can’t, I’m too little. So you have to.” He was staring at her when she looked at him, face far more solemn than a child of his age should ever be. 

Athena choked down the guilty, hot bile rising in her throat. She’d been being so selfish, thinking only of herself and how much she didn’t want to chop Buck’s leg off, while the two of them had been through hell - were still going through hell. Lord knows what the poor child had seen that day. And there was Buck, preparing to walk himself out of there after she cut his leg off. She needed to pull herself together for both their sakes. 

“Athena?” Eddie’s worried voice across the radio made her realize she hadn’t responded to his last words. 

“We’re here, Eddie. I’m ready to start, I think.” 

“Is Christopher there?”

Athena looked over at Christopher, who reached a hand out.

“Yeah,” Athena replied, then handed the radio over to Christopher.

“Daddy?” Christopher whispered into the radio. She could barely hear him despite how close they were, and wondered if Eddie had.

“Hey buddy.” Eddie’s voice cracked, the voice of a parent trying not to cry. Of course he’d heard his son’s voice, no matter how soft. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m okay,” Christopher assured his father. “Buck saved me. Now Athena has to save Buck.”

“She does,” Eddie agreed. “Is there somewhere else you can go, while she helps him?”

“I’m not leaving Buck. I told him I’d stay with him,” Christopher answered. His voice was filled with tears, but it was as strong as steel. Athena couldn’t help but smile sadly. She wondered if Eddie knew just how like him his son was. 

There was a moment of pause before Eddie responded, most likely trying to formulate an argument, if parenting Christopher was anything like parenting May and Harry.

“I don’t want you to see something like this, Christopher.” Eddie’s voice was quiet, but Athena could hear the pleading in it. 

“I won’t watch, but I’m not leaving,” Christopher repeated. “And you said we don’t have time, so— so there!”  

Eddie laughed, broken and sad, but he must have agreed. “Alright. Hand the radio back to Athena?”

Christopher handed the radio back, and Athena waited for instructions. Before Eddie could give them though, Josh’s voice cut in again.

“727-L-30 and Firefighter Diaz, please switch to channel 11,” Josh requested.

Athena understood as soon as Josh requested it. Eddie was going to give her explicit instructions on how to amputate Buck’s leg in the field. They didn’t need those instructions echoing through every radio out there, for all the other victims of this tsunami to hear. She switched her radio over, pressing the button when she did.

“Eddie?”

“Athena, do you have the standard first aid kit?” Eddie asked immediately.

“I do,” Athena answered, pulling the pieces closer.

“Gloves on and then clean the…the area with the alcohol wipes,” Eddie instructed. “Try to get off as much dirt as you can.”

Athena nodded, picking up the wipes. But she couldn’t move past that point, staring down at the man in front of her. Was she really going to do it? Was she going to cut off her friend’s leg?

“You have to do it,” Christopher whispered. “You’re the only one that can save him.”

“I know, Christopher. I know sweetie. I will, alright? I’m going to do it now.” Athena sighed, then tore open a packet and started wiping it all the way around Buck’s shin where she had to cut. She used another, repeating her action. It was the best she could do to make it sterile. If Buck got an infection from this, well at least that would mean he survived. 

Buck shifted, coming back to awareness as she handled his leg. “Tourniquet?” The word was gasped out as Buck’s breath hitched. 

Athena’s heart sank. Was he not as lucid as she thought? “You already put one on, Buck—”

But he was shaking his head jerkily, “I couldn’t— gedditas tight azit should be. Put yourz—” he stopped to gasp, then sucked in a long, wheezing breath that ended in a keen of pain. “Put yourz ‘bove it. Don’t take ‘em off. Either ov ‘em.” 

“Right.” Athena nodded, pulling her combat application tourniquet from her kit. She applied it carefully, Christopher taking her flashlight and holding it for her without having to be asked. Buck keened again then pressed his forearm against his mouth to muffle the sound when she began to tighten it. He sobbed once, harshly, when she was done, then lay there with his eyes closed, panting, his chest heaving until he was able to slow his breathing down. 

“You’re doing good, Buck. You didn’t pass out this time,” Christopher told him encouragingly, patting Buck on his other thigh. 

This time? The implication of the child’s words made Athena shudder at the thought of what the two of them had been through together.  

A bitterly amused sort of snort huffed through Buck’s nose. “Thankz, Chris. You’re doin’ gud too. B-bin so brave. Really ‘elped me.” He opened his eyes and gazed at Christopher, who looked back just as seriously while Athena watched. 

“Athena?” Eddie’s voice cracked through the radio again. “Is everything okay?”

Athena picked up the handset, hand shaking as she responded. “Buck woke up. Asked for another tourniquet because he couldn’t get the first one tight enough.”

“God.” Eddie’s voice broke. “Okay.”

Athena’s heart broke for the other man, having to keep it together enough to give instructions like this. She didn’t think she could ever do it, even if she did have the training. 

“You need to cut the flesh down to the bone first, all the way around and around, before you try to cut the bone itself,” Eddie continued in a tone that seemed deceptively calm. “You have to make sure all the muscles and tendons are completely severed. If you can, leave a flap of skin to be attached to the— the stump,” Eddie finished after a broken pause. 

“Copy,” Athena responded. “Starting now,” she added, assuming he’d know her hands would be too busy to respond to further radio chatter. 

“Christopher…” Athena started, and the boy immediately began to glare at her. 

“I’m not leaving,” Christopher shook his head obstinately. “I’m not leaving Buck.”

“Turn ‘round kiddo,” Buck whispered, looking up at Chris, a shaking hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’dun wan you to see diz.”

“Don’t leave me,” Chris cried. “You can’t leave like mom did.”

“Nod goen ‘nywhere,” Buck promised, panting as he struggled to speak. “Bud dizis gunna hurdalot, an I dun wan you to zee it.” 

“I already did,” Chris muttered grumpily before he nodded and shifted around to face the other way. He still reached back to put a trembling hand on Buck’s shoulder. A distressed look of guilt flickered over Buck’s face at his words, making Athena wonder again what had happened before she got there.

“Give— sumthin, ‘Thena,” Buck whispered.

Athena didn’t have to ask what he wanted, reaching into her shirt pocket. She pulled her leather covered notebook out. It would have to work for now.

“Cut’az low az you can,” Buck told Athena, inhaling sharply with a determined nod towards his leg. “Below the tourn—. O-once you start, don’t stop. Then wrap it up, and get me the hell out of here.”

Athena nodded, holding out the notebook and slipping it into Buck’s mouth when he opened it.

“Take a deep breath,” Athena muttered, taking one herself as she faced what she was about to do. This wasn’t someone random that she’d never met before. This was Buck. Who she’d already seen face down hell and push through it. Who had worked his ass off to return to being a firefighter because he loved it so much. Because it was part of his identity. 

She hadn’t known Bobby when he’d his back injury working in St Paul. She hadn’t seen his struggle to recover - but she’d thought of it often, when she’d seen Buck struggling through something similar over the last half year. Both men had incredible determination, willpower and resilience, and it was a large part of what made them such good firefighters.

And now— now Athena was going to be the one to end that for Buck. She was going to have to cut his foot off and destroy his chances at being a firefighter again. And she was going to have to do it while Buck was awake and could feel every cut she made. While Christopher was sitting there, listening even if he wasn’t watching.

She felt pressure on her shoulder, and looked to see it was Buck’s hand. Looking at his face, Athena saw the tears and the resigned acceptance in his eyes. He knew exactly what Athena was thinking, because he’d already thought about it. Because he’d faced it when he put that tourniquet around his shin and he’d faced it every minute since, as the blood flow slowed to a stop and Buck’s foot died while it was still attached to him. The foot was already gone, Athena was just the last step. She knew that, Buck knew that, and he accepted it. Now, she had just had to accept it too.

“We’re six blocks from the nearest help,” Athena reminded him softly as she used her last alcohol wipe to clean her knife. “It’s not going to be easy.”

Buck lifted one shoulder in a weary shrug, squeezing her arm again. Athena got the message though. He was trusting her to get him out of here and back to the help that he was going to need if he was to survive this. And Athena was determined to make sure he survived this.

Athena didn’t let herself think as she brought the knife down low on his shin as close to the other car as she could manage, hoping to save as much of his leg as she could. Buck groaned into her notebook with the first cut, pressing both hands over his mouth as he tried to muffle it, for Christopher’s sake she assumed. She kept cutting - and suddenly Buck was screaming. His other foot pressed the metal of the hood inwards when he bent his knee and arched his back with a long, stifled shriek of pure, raw agony. Even the notebook couldn’t cover it now, the sheer horror he was going through.

“Buck! You have to stay still!” Athena yelled, throwing her hand out to press the leg she was working on down as hard as she could in an attempt to stop him moving his leg as she cut. It meant she had to switch hands and cut with her left hand which was much more awkward for her but there was nothing for it.  She didn’t know if he’d heard her through his pain or even if he was aware of what he was doing, but he did stop thrashing after a couple of seconds. 

Distantly, she heard Christopher sobbing. She didn’t look. Buck had to be her priority. 

Buck screamed again as she kept cutting, his other leg kicking out weakly, heel drumming on the hood of the car. He sobbed, then gasped before screaming again, but she couldn’t let it stop her. The notebook had fallen out, and Buck was screaming into his hand now, but she couldn’t afford to stop. He was right, as he had been from the start of this nightmare. It would be worse if she stopped partway through and just left the open wound. He’d die of blood loss in no time at all, if she did that.  

Athena didn’t stop. 

She did her best to ignore his screams. His pain. The pain that she was causing as she sliced around and around his leg, cutting the knife deep into his skin, his flesh, his muscles and tendons like Eddie had instructed, separating the living from the dead. It was difficult, with the second car so close, making it hard to reach beneath. She made sure to do what Eddie had instructed, cutting further down on the back of the calf than on the front, hopefully leaving enough functional skin behind for the surgeons to clean up the mess she was making of his limb.

Blood oozed from both sides, not spurting as she’d been expecting, but something much slower. The tourniquets at work, she guessed. Before long, her gloved hands were no longer bright blue but dark with Buck’s blood. It was unexpectedly warm and Athena shuddered, pushing sudden nausea away. She was not going to let Buck down now. 

Her saving grace was that the knife was sharp, that she’d taken care of it just a few days ago. That meant a cleaner and faster cut than a dull knife would give. It didn’t make it pleasant, though. Not like cooking brisket. 

Dammit. She wished she hadn’t thought of that. Now she didn’t ever want to cook brisket again. It would always make her think of this moment.  

“It’s okay,” Athena could hear Christopher crying, and saw him putting the notebook that had fallen out back in Buck’s mouth before reaching to press a hand to Buck’s head. He didn’t try to hold Buck’s hand and Athena was glad for it. With the amount of pain Buck was in and his strength, even in his current state, he might very well break the bones in Christopher’s hand without even meaning to. 

Athena hoped that the small contact Christopher was making would reassure them both. After everything they’ve gone through, and the sheer horror of what was happening now, Athena was going to insist that Christopher get therapy. Hell, she should probably join him. Lord knows they would all need it after this.

She finished with his flesh and got to the part where she’d have to cut through bone both faster, and slower, than she thought she would. It hadn’t been all that different than slicing through an unusually thick cut of meat, and that thought cemented Athena’s certainty that she and Bobby wouldn’t be grilling at any barbecues anytime soon. 

Bone though, was something else entirely. 

Another quick glance at his face showed her that Buck was sweating profusely and breathing rapidly through his nostrils. Her pause must have drawn his attention because his eyes cracked open to focus on her somewhat blearily. 

He nodded, unable to speak around the notebook. She could hear the hitches in his breath, but he held her gaze with a surprisingly strong look. He nodded slightly again, as much as he could with Christopher’s hand on his head. He was ready for what came next, and she had to be as well.

Athena nodded back, and saw his eyes close in relief at being understood. She was going to have to finish this, and then get him to the help he needed. She tightened her grip on the slippery, blood-soaked handle of her field knife and bore down onto the first, larger bone. The tibia, she vaguely recalled learning in grade school. 

Buck’s back arched again as another scream tore from him, his left leg jerking and moving so suddenly that Athena nearly cut herself. The notebook went flying lord knows where. She swore and climbed swiftly up onto the hood of the car, switching sides so she could cut with her right hand again while kneeling on his thigh with most of her body weight to keep it steady. The position was much more awkward and she weighed a hundred and forty pounds versus Buck’s two hundred at least but there was nothing for it. They were out of other options and she needed him to stay still or she would do even more damage to his leg. 

Athena focused on the motion of her arm, instead of what she was doing, changing her former slicing motion to a sawing one, forcing the blade to cut first through the tibia and then, much faster, through the smaller fibula. At least that action was somewhat easier to do so close to the other car, despite her position change. The initial resistance followed by the sudden snapping had her gasping each time just like Buck was. 

It didn’t take long after she’d gotten through the bones to go back and slice through the slight bit of flesh remaining that she’d somehow missed, and suddenly she was done. 

It was done. 

She’d— Athena swallowed heavily and lowered her head. 

She’d finished separating Buck from his foot. 

He’d never walk the same way again. Would never strut into her husband’s station in that cocky way he had that had made her want to smack the arrogance out of him. Had made her want to, until she got to know him and saw it for the mask that it was, covering insecurity and a need to be loved so vast that it had staggered her. 

Now he’d never be able to walk like that again and she’d been the one to do it to him. 

What kind of person could do that? 

Chapter Text

Bleak despair threatened to pull Athena under, like the tsunami had pulled so many poor souls under that day. 

Buck and Christopher, against all odds, had survived - only for her to amputate part of Buck and change his life forever. 

How could she have done that? 

How could she have just cut Buck’s foot off like it meant nothing? 

What kind of person am I? 

Athena had to choke down the bile that rose in her throat at the thought. And then had to swallow it down again when she looked down and saw the grisly sight of Buck’s leg laid open to the elements, blood and bits of skin and flesh scattered around the hood beneath it. The sight spurred her back into action at least, as she quickly grabbed her gauze and pressed hard it against the raw stump, trying to stop the already slow bleeding. 

She did not go through all of that just to lose control at the end. She was getting him out of there. 

Buck moaned as she applied pressure, pulling his leg up and away as he tried to escape the pain she was causing him. His knee nearly smacked her in the face before she reared back to avoid it.  She couldn’t tell if he was even aware of what he was doing. Athena knew they were on the clock though, and she grabbed his leg firmly. 

“Stay still, just a little longer, Buck,” she murmured, unsure if he would even hear her. “Just a little longer.” 

I did not go through all of that for you to not make it out of here. 

I did not put YOU through all of that for nothing. 

Trying to balance the need to apply pressure for long enough with the need to get Buck to help quickly, Athena decided it would have to do. She stopped pressing on the stump and began wrapping the one dressing she had around it, leaving the now soaked gauze in place. Then she secured it all with surgical tape, using the entire roll in what was possibly too excessive an action but she wasn’t about to risk the wrappings coming off while they were getting themselves out of there. 

“Buck?” 

Christopher’s fearful whisper had Athena’s awareness snapping up and she realized that Buck wasn’t moving around anymore. He wasn’t moving at all. A swift glance showed her that his eyes were closed, face lax and still. His mouth was hanging open, slack and unmoving. 

Adrenaline exploded within as Athena lurched across the hood of the car to check his pulse, almost knocking Christopher over in her haste. She grabbed the child with a muttered apology and one hand, her bloody glove smearing the back of his shirt, and felt Buck’s neck with her other, getting yet more blood on him, too. 

When she felt Buck’s pulse, worryingly slow but steady and more importantly there, Athena exhaled heavily, a long sigh of relief. “It’s okay. He’s okay,” she reassured Christopher, who was calling Buck’s name with pitifully sad sobs. Reaching out, she pulled the child under her arm, embracing him firmly. He sobbed, clutching her shirt tightly with grubby hands.  

She had to get them off the car. Had to get them moving. They were already racing against the clock to get Buck to help. Gently, Athena set Christopher to the side and moved back. Stripping off her gloves and tossing them away, she carefully climbed back over Buck’s still form, then slid off the car entirely on the other side of him. 

“Christopher,” Athena called, realizing she had to get the boy down before her hands were full of one very large, seriously injured firefighter. “Come on honey. I’ll help you down.” 

Christopher silently let her help him slide back off the car, standing next to Athena. Two relatively clean tear tracks gleamed palely in the flickering firelight on his otherwise filthy cheeks. 

Checking on Buck, Athena swore a little at the sight of blood already starting to soak through parts of the dressing. She needed to wrap it more. Looking around, she spotted the towel that Christopher had laid out over Buck to help keep him warm. It wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t absorb a lot of blood, but hopefully it would help slow the bleeding and provide another layer to keep his wound safe from the dirt and debris that was between them and help. She wrapped it tightly around the dressing, covering it entirely, then looked at Christopher.

“Christopher,” Athena huffed, breathing hard from all her work. “Would you hold this for me?”

Christopher moved immediately, shifting around to help her. He grabbed the towel, flinching as his touch made Buck whimper in agony. Rather than worry her, the sound reassured Athena that he wasn’t deeply unconscious, at least. She left him be for the moment. He’d have to be forced back to full consciousness soon enough. Let him have what brief respite she could give him. 

“I know it hurts, but it’s what he needs, okay?” Athena whispered to Christopher. “We need to get him out of here.”

Christopher nodded mutely, tears on his face as he pushed down, holding the towel in place. Just as she’d seen his father do, the boy faced the situation in front of him bravely and pushed aside everything else. At least, she hoped that’s what he was doing. His silence could be a traumatic reaction to what he’d endured, too. Athena prayed that if that’s what it was then Christopher would recover quickly with love, support and professional help for his sake - and for Buck’s too. She had a feeling that Buck would blame himself for what the boy had gone through, and everything that would come after, too.      

Shaking her head to refocus, Athena grabbed two zip ties out of her belt, combining them into one strip. She wrapped it around the bundled towel over Buck’s shin and tightened it, then repeated her action with another two, higher up. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but with luck it would make it six blocks.

“Alright. Let’s do this. Can you carry the flashlight for me?” Athena asked Christopher and when he nodded, handed it to him with a nod of thanks, then reached up and patted Buck on the cheek. “Buck, are you with us?”

At first there was no response, though she felt his skin twitch under her hand. Then a low moan eased from Buck’s mouth. She called his name again. 

“Yeah,” Buck groaned, gasping in a hitched breath. “‘M here.” 

His eyes opened slowly and he looked up into hers, making a wry face that clearly said, ‘Where else would I be?’ in a manner that was so very Buck of him that Athena felt her own face twitch into a smile before she knew it. Buck’s lips twitched in response before he gasped and sucked his breath in, eyes slamming closed again. 

“Izzit done?” he mumbled, barely audible amidst a long groan that ended with Buck gasping, his breath hitching. 

A turbulent mix of emotions surged within Athena, answer after answer flashing through her mind. 

Yes, I’m finished chopping your leg off. 

Yes, I’m done taking the career you love so much away from you. 

Yes, you’ll never walk the same again. 

Despite the truth of each answer, Athena couldn’t bear to put voice to any of them. 

“Yes.”

At the word, Buck sucked in one long breath and held it, his eyes clenched shut. She saw tears leaking from the sides of them even as they did from hers. 

Athena gave him a moment, as long as she dared. Then she took a deep breath, fortifying herself for what lay ahead, and said, “We need to move. Can you sit up? Then I’ll help you down.”

Buck took a deep, shuddering breath, seemingly focusing on his body, before he nodded firmly. “I can do it.”

It wasn’t clear whether he was telling her, or trying to convince himself. Perhaps both. Either way, they didn’t have the time for Athena to doubt him.

“You’ve always been strong and I don’t just mean your body. You’re one of the most resilient people I know, Buck. Use that now,” Athena told him, an encouraging smile on her face that felt like a lie. “Let’s get you going.”

Before she moved, she reached back up to her radio, and pressed the button. “LAFD 154, be advised I have him free and we are making our way towards you.”

The radio crackled back only a second later, the voice of the 154 Captain responding. “We’re ready for you Sergeant.”

Not even two seconds had passed before it crackled again and Eddie was asking through the radio, “How is he?” 

“Weak. In pain. But alive,” Athena replied. Buck didn’t even react to being called weak, just kept breathing steadily in through his nose and out through his mouth. It was a technique she’d seen Bobby use when the chronic pain in his back flared up. She wondered if he’d taught it to Buck when he was recovering from his crush injury. 

His first crush injury, anyway. Her heart threatened to crumble with the thought and she had to clamp down on her emotions viciously. It wasn’t the time. Not yet. 

“We’ll meet you at the VA hospital.” There was something in Eddie’s voice, tears or anger, Athena couldn’t tell. “Get him there safely, please?”

“I will,” Athena promised. She was going to. She was going to get this boy out of here, get him to people that could actually save him instead of hurting him, and he was going to survive this. He had to.

She had to. 

They had to, all three of them. 

Eddie didn’t respond, and Athena was worried about him, but she couldn’t spare the energy for that. Everything she had left inside her was needed to get Buck out of here. 

Feeling a sense of relief knowing that it was almost over, for now at least - it wouldn’t be over for Buck for a long, long time, Athena looked at Christopher, wondering how far he’d be able to walk on his own. After a moment of thought she knelt down next to him. “Can you hold yourself piggyback, Christopher?”

Christopher glanced at Buck with eyes far to knowing for her liking. “I have a walking stick I used earlier. I can walk. You need to help Buck.”

“Are you sure?” Athena asked. “I can carry you.” She wasn’t really certain if she could, but she wasn’t about to leave either of them behind in this mess. All they had to do was make it six blocks.

Christopher thought for a moment, and then nodded shakily. He picked up a stick that had been leaning against the car, holding it tightly. “I’ll walk. You need to help Buck.” His strangely adult demeanor was marred when he pushed his dirty, cracked glasses up his nose with a grubby finger and sniffled. 

Athena watched the boy with a small, bittersweet smile. She’d always been impressed by the strength of everyone in Bobby’s team, and it was clear Eddie had passed his strength on to his son, traumatized or not. She looked at Buck, putting a brave face on. “No time to waste, Buckaroo.”

Buck’s eyes flicked to Christopher standing near them anxiously and he grinned halfheartedly, the expression morphing into a gurgle of pain as, instead of trying to sit up, Buck swiveled his hips so he could swing his legs off the car and slide his feet towards the ground. 

His foot. Buck would never stand on his own two feet again and they all knew it. He wobbled dangerously as the now-much-shorter leg sliding off first didn’t hit the ground the way it used to and Athena grabbed him quickly, steadying him. He had to be in agony, but he stayed quiet as he let Athena help him off the car, standing on his remaining foot and throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Watching to see how steady he was on his foot, Athena took a small step forward when Buck nodded in response to her questioning look. He hopped, grunting painfully, and she stepped forward again, trying to coordinate her movement for when his foot was steady on the ground. His arm was heavy around her shoulders, the weight he was leaning on her even heavier but Athena bore it in silence. This was much harder for Buck than her, and he wasn’t complaining so she wouldn’t either. 

Together, they started to make their way through the rubble, on their way towards Pine Street. 

After only a few minutes, it became clear that it wasn’t working. They had to stop every few steps for Buck to catch his breath as he wheezed and panted and sucked air in erratically. His entire body was trembling, the hand he was holding onto Athena’s shoulder with grasping her painfully hard with his exertion. She could hear his pain in his breathing as it hitched with every hop he took. A quick glance at his face on one of their many pauses showed tears steadily trickling down his face.

“We need to find you a walking stick,” Athena decided. “Like Christopher’s.” She started watching their immediate area even more carefully than she already had been while looking out for obstacles that would trip Buck, and saw the other two doing the same. Their already slow progress became even slower. 

It was Christopher who found something. 

A timber pole that looked like it might once have been a curtain rod, broken but still long enough for Buck’s height. The child called out to them in excitement and hop-walked his own way over to it with his stick, a true grin on his face for the first time since Athena had found them. When he tried to tug it out of the pile of debris it was wedged in, though, he couldn’t. So Athena sat Buck down on a metal chair that looked curiously undamaged and moved to Christopher’s side. With both of them working together it didn’t take long to pull it free. 

“Just keep swimming,” Christopher announced with a grin to Buck when they brought the pole over to him.  

Buck laughed brokenly then sobbed, the sound catching in his throat as he tried to smile back at Christopher. “Jus’ keep swimming,” he repeated back with a wobbly sort of nod towards the boy.

It felt to Athena like she was watching something that had more meaning to them both than she could comprehend, but she didn’t ask. Didn’t want to break the reinvigorated look of determination she could see on Buck’s face. 

“Just keep swimming,” Christopher kept whispering as they started on their way again, the going markedly better now that Buck could keep his balance and put some of his weight on his pole instead of only on Athena. It still wasn’t easy by any measure, but it was better, somewhat. 

By the time they made it to the end of the first block, Athena was chanting along with Christopher in her mind. 

Just keep swimming, Buck.

Just keep swimming.

Athena couldn’t say anything aloud, emotion and exertion both catching her breath in her throat. She was barely holding it together but she refused to break until she had gotten them to safety. She was not going to let them down now.

The second block went much the same as the first, but Athena could tell that Buck was running out of steam. Each hop was a little shorter, and the time between was a little longer. She was damned if she’d leave him behind though, and kept them moving forward. “We can do this, alright? We can do this!” 

Just as they reached the second intersection, Christopher fell, crying out in pain as his knee hit the ground. 

“Chris!” Buck exclaimed, nearly falling himself.

“I’m okay,” Christopher choked out, getting back to his feet. “I can walk.”

He tried to move, but stumbled again.

“Hold on a minute, Buck,” Athena whispered. She helped him lean up against a small pile of rubble, then moved towards the quietly crying boy. “Come here Christopher, let me help you.”

“I’m okay,” Christopher declared stubbornly despite the tears on his face. “You need to help Buck.” 

Athena had to bite back the sob that tried to break out of her, seeing this brave boy trying to push aside his own pain for Buck’s sake. “I can help both of you. We aren’t far. It’ll be okay.”

Christopher had to be in a lot of pain if the way he didn’t argue any more told her anything. He just let Athena help him onto her back, clinging tightly to her shoulders.

“You alright up there?” Athena questioned.

“Yeah,” the child muttered before sighing morosely. 

“Good.” Athena nodded. “Then let’s keep moving.”

She helped Buck back stand upright again, fitting his arm between Christopher’s face and Athena’s shoulders for support. And then she got them moving. Pushing Buck forward, helping him hop his way down the street. 

Then again. 

And again. 

They made it another block like that, reaching the halfway point with a sigh of relief. They were going to make it. Athena was going to get these boys out of here. She kept them moving, even as her own body started to throb in painful response to what she was forcing it to do. Christopher, while young, wasn’t exactly a little kid, and Buck wasn’t a small man. 

She was feeling their weight, even with the adrenaline still pumping its way through her system. But she would not let them stop, she would not let Buck offer to stay behind because she knew that he would.  She knew, without a doubt in her mind, that if she so much as suggested a break, Buck would offer to sit down and wait for Athena to take Christopher to the 154 and return for him and she would not allow that. 

Buck didn’t have the time to wait like that. 

She kept herself moving, ignoring her growing aches, and just focused on the blurry horizon line ahead of her. They were almost to the fourth cross street. She was going to get them out of here.

“‘Thena.” Buck sighed as they stumbled across the street. The rubble and debris everywhere made it slow going, even slower than it could have been with just the injuries they all had. It was impossible to simply walk in a straight line. They constantly had to detour around obstacles and when she couldn’t find them another way, painstakingly make their way over them instead. 

“Don’t.” Athena growled at him, dragging him forward another step. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You know ‘m right.” Buck groaned, hopping forward again, wincing in pain. “Iz okay.”

“No,” Athena hissed. “I said I don’t want to hear it and I will not hear it. I am not leaving you here.”

“We can’t leave Buck behind,” Christopher joined the argument, lifting his head off Athena’s shoulder. 

Athena nodded. “We won’t.” 

“You gotta, bu-dee,” Buck groaned, trying to twist and look back at Christopher. “You needa get out.”

“We will,” Athena vowed. “But you’re coming with us and I will not hear anything else about it.”

Buck was obviously going to keep arguing despite being barely able to speak but Athena refused to listen to it. She wouldn’t waste her breath arguing when she needed to get them two more blocks.

“‘Thena,” Buck groaned again, not even halfway through the next block. “I can’t. Can’t doit.”

“You can and you will,” Athena told him firmly. She wouldn’t let herself believe anything else. She was not going to be the one to tell her family that she’d left Buck behind.

“Please,” Buck begged weakly, tears streaming down his face. “Please.”

Athena grunted, but stopped. “We can sit down for a moment, but then we need to keep moving. We need to get you to help.”

“Iz no point,” Buck shook his head slowly. “I kin feel it.”

Athena shook her head. “Don’t start talking like that. Don’t you dare.”

Buck smiled, his exhausted acceptance heartbreakingly clear on his face. “Iz o-kay, ‘Thena. You— did ev’thin— you cud.”

“No! You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” Christopher cried, reaching out to grab Buck’s torn and dirty sleeve and shaking him angrily, making them all wobble. “You promised!” 

“‘M sorry bu-dee.” Buck whispered, his voice breaking. “‘M so sorry. Bud I can’t keep goin. Hurtz too much. You needa get back to— your dad. Take care. Ov him for me, ‘kay?”

“We are not leaving you here.” Athena argued with him, choking back tears of her own. “Never going to do that, so don’t even start.” 

Cold fear turned her veins to ice inside her as she looked at Buck. What if she couldn’t convince him to keep moving? She couldn’t carry him, he was far too heavy for that. But she couldn’t leave him, either. Her fear began congealing into a sickly dread. 

“Iz okay,” Buck whispered, breath shuddering. “Iz okay.” His eyes were barely open, head dropping. 

“Look!” Chris exclaimed, pointing over Athena’s shoulder.

Both of the adults turned, Athena still supporting Buck, to look up the street.

In the barely visible city street, dim with the power still out, two people were moving through the rubble, thin beams of light flashing ahead of them. Athena lifted her own flashlight, pointing it their way.

“It’s the 154!” She exclaimed, disbelief and relief exploding inside as she saw the long familiar sight of LAFD turnouts and reflective stripes emblazoned on the clothes of the people now running towards them and calling out. Hope surged inside her at the welcome sight. “They came to get us after all. Here! We’re here!” she called out the last few words as loudly as her exhaustion would let her, waving her flashlight towards them. 

The three of them watched in silence then as their saviors approached, hurrying through the chaos left behind by the wave.

“Sergeant,” the firefighter in the lead greeted her, then, “Firefighter Buckley.” 

“That’s us, and this is Christopher Diaz, another firefighter’s son. You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Athena smiled grimly. “Thank you for coming.” She repressed a snort, feeling bizarrely like she was welcoming them into a party at her home. 

“Well, we weren’t about to leave you all out here alone,” the firefighter shrugged with a sympathetic grin, already slotting himself under Buck’s free arm. “I’m Jake, by the way. Paramedic with the 154. Here, let me help.”

“Thank you, Jake,” Athena tried not to groan in relief as he took some of Buck’s weight off of her body.

“Thankz, man. ‘m Buck,” Buck mumbled. He was barely able to lift his head, Athena noticed worriedly, and was panting roughly. 

The other firefighter reached them quickly after that, immediately reaching out to take Christopher from Athena’s back.

“Well Buck, Athena, Christopher, let’s get you all back to your families,” Jake declared. “I’m sure they’re worried sick about you.”

Athena almost cried with relief, her breath coming easier now that she wasn’t holding Christopher’s weight as well as Buck’s. They were going to make it. It wasn’t up to her alone anymore, she didn’t have to literally shoulder the weight in this nightmare of a situation anymore. Buck was going to make it. They were getting out of here. All of them.

“Thank you. Really.” She didn’t mention how close Buck had been to giving up, or how terrified she’d been that she might not have been able to stop him. Supporting his weight had been hard enough. There was no way Athena would have been able to carry him though she sure as hell would have tried. 

The second firefighter grinned, hiking Christopher up on his hip. “LAPD, LAFD, we’re all one big family. We look out for each other.”

That reminded Athena of the rest of their family stuck on the other side of this debris field and she reached up to her radio. “Dispatch, this is 727-L-30, the 154 got us. Help found us.”

“Copy that.” Josh’s voice cracked through the radio, and even through the static Athena could hear his relief. “An ambulance from Angels Memorial is waiting for you at the VA hospital, with two of their ER residents in the back.”

“Thank you, Dispatch,” Athena sighed in relief. All they had to do was get Buck to the VA and he was going to be okay. He had to be. After all they’d just been through, she wouldn’t accept any other outcome. 

“Athena?” Eddie’s voice came through the radio. “Is he—?”

“He’s alright,” Athena assured him quickly. Alright was a relative term but she decided not to say anymore. It wouldn’t help Eddie and would only delay them getting moving again. “We’ll meet you there.”

There was a moment of pause, then Eddie’s voice again. “We’ll be waiting.”

Athena had no doubt they would be. She was frankly surprised that Eddie hadn’t torn down the city to get to his family’s side. Bobby, too, though he had the experience to be able to accept their inability to do so, given how far away they were and the widespread destruction between them. Bobby would hate it but he could be pragmatic when he had to be. Athena hoped that Eddie was able to be like Bobby that way. Come to think of it, she hoped that the whole 118 were able to do the same. They would do anything and everything in their power to keep their family safe, even if they destroyed themself in the process and that wouldn’t help anyone in this situation at all. 

Buck being more concerned about Christopher was a prime example of how the 118 felt about each other. Though things she’d observed since the Diaz’s had arrived in LA had Athena suspecting that Christopher being his coworker's son wasn’t the only reason Buck was so worried about the child. There was something between him and Eddie, something nebulous and unspoken but existing nonetheless. 

“You’ve got quite the family out there,” Jake commented, pulling her from her thoughts as he helped Athena get Buck moving through the destroyed streets to wherever the 154’s ambulance was parked.

“They’re all absolutely insane,” Athena snorted fondly. “I’d do anything for them.”

“Even cut off a leg,” Buck muttered, lifting his head to tilt it at her. He had a grimly macabre smile on his face, one Athena knew well. It was one that all first responders wore at one point or another. 

The one that said if we don’t laugh at the dark, it will consume us. 

Seeing it on Buck’s face gave Athena something stronger than hope for the first time since the moment she’d first understood what she was looking at in the jumble of wrecked vehicles. The darkly amused smile on Buck’s battered and weary face gave Athena the belief that he truly was going to survive. And so, even though she didn’t feel anywhere near as resilient as he was, Athena did what she could to honor Buck’s courage and gave the same dark humor back to him. 

“Well, someone had to do something about your ridiculous height. Do you know, my husband had to install padding on a beam at the 118 because Buckaroo here kept hitting his head on it?” She’d directed her question towards the other firefighters but didn’t miss the soft huff of a laugh her comment pulled from Buck. 

“I’d rather never do it again, though,” Athena admitted quietly a moment later, thinking of how horrible it had been. She was sure she was going to see it in her nightmares, the way Buck’s skin had split open under her knife. The thick, barely congealed blood from below the tourniquet spilling over her hands. Even though she’d put gloves on, she was going to be washing her hands for a very long time that night. In her mind, they were stained with Buck’s blood. 

They might always be. 

“S-ry.” Buck grunted as they maneuvered awkwardly over a particularly large piece of broken wall.

“Don’t you dare start blaming yourself,” Athena snapped at him, her second wind making assertiveness easy for once. “You do not control natural disasters, it is not your fault that there was a tsunami and it is not your fault that you got stuck.”

“My fault we were atta pier,” Buck whispered, lifting his head enough to look over at Christopher, who’d fallen asleep quickly in the arms of the other firefighter that had come to help them. “My fault he wazzere.”

“You never could have known,” Athena murmured. “If you had, would you have taken him there?”

“NO! ” Buck gasped, sounding horrified at the very thought of it.

“Then how could it possibly be your fault?” Athena asked him simply. “It wasn’t your fault, Buck - and Eddie won’t blame you.”

Buck shook his head, breath catching in his throat. “I-I—” He coughed, painfully, then, “He will. Should.” The last word was barely audible. 

Athena wanted to shout at how obtuse this man was. Eddie’s voice over the radio had been anything but angry. Worried, of course. Horrified, definitely. But Athena was sure that the only anger Eddie had was anger at himself, for not being there for Buck, for Christopher. 

“We can have that fight later,” Athena told him. “For now, we’re getting you out of here. I didn’t cut your leg off just for you to die on me, alright? You are going to survive.”

She saw Buck smiling from the corner of her eye. It was a sleepy, sweetly beautiful and completely out of it sort of smile that made Athena’s worry spike sharply. “You’re suchza good perzon, ‘Thena. Zzo good.”

God. He’d sounded so much better only moments ago. Now he suddenly sounded drunk. Or about to faint from blood loss. 

“Don’t pass out on us now, Buck,” Jake warned, shaking Buck a little as his head started to fall and he stopped carrying any of his own weight. “You’ve gotta stay awake, you gotta stay with us. The bus is right up here. We’re going to get you patched up, but you gotta stay awake.”

“M’trying,” Buck mumbled.

Athena and Jake glanced at each other and together they picked up the pace. There was no more time. They were losing him. They staggered forward as quickly as they could manage, finally rounding the last corner and seeing the ambulance waiting for them. The other members of the 154 were putting equipment away in their engine further down the street, ready to roll out as soon as Buck was in the ambulance. The stretcher was at the corner, right where the debris got too bad to pass through, and they hauled Buck over to it.

“Alright Buckley, let's get you onto the bed,” Jake grunted, lifting Buck up onto the gurney with the help of two other firefighters that took him from Athena. 

“Assa guy ta dinner firzt whydon’tcha,” Buck slurred, his head lolling against Jake’s chest before grunting in pain as his leg was jostled when he was placed onto the bed.

“I think Diaz might have something to say if I did that.” Jake laughed easily, strapping Buck down quickly. “Sergeant, grab the top of the gurney please.”

Athena stepped forward, grabbing the head of the bed, helping Jake and the others push it towards the ambulance. Relief at reaching their destination drove her exhaustion away, making her feel as light as a bird. She bit her lips against a smile caused by the quip, wondering if Buck had even heard Jake’s response. It wasn’t even surprising that talk about Eddie and Buck had made it to other stations. First responders were notorious for gossiping amongst themselves and one of their favorite subjects was other first responders. It’s why she’d wanted to keep things with Bobby quiet for so long when they first started dating.   

“Sullivan!” One of the other members of the 154 shouted. “We’re ready when you are!”

“Load and go, Cap!” Jake called back. “Kurt, you drive.”

“Got it,” the firefighter carrying Christopher nodded. He jogged ahead of them, setting the now awake boy in the back of the open ambulance before moving around to the front and hopping into the cab.

“Can you get up on the bench, Christopher?” Athena asked as they pulled Buck over.

Christopher nodded, rubbing his eyes. “Is Buck okay?”

“M’alright buh-dee.” Buck’s voice cracked as he tried to speak loud enough for Christopher to hear.

Athena glanced at the boy, seeing the fear and worry etched on his face. “He’s alright, but we need to get him to more skilled help.”

“We’re going to get him out of here,” Jake nodded. He moved around to the front of the stretcher as they reached the ambulance, quickly getting it locked in so they could get it lifted. Athena stepped out of his way, knowing that she wouldn’t be much help with this part of it. Once the stretcher was in though, Jake gestured for her to get in first and she climbed in, taking a seat by Christopher on the small bench. Jake climbed in behind her, slamming the doors shut and then hitting the ceiling. The ambulance immediately started moving, and Jake moved with practiced skill as he made his way to his seat.

Christopher reached out, taking her hand gently.

Athena smiled softly, turning her hand over to entwine their fingers, enfolding him under her other arm. “I have faith that he’s going to be okay,” she whispered softly. “You know how strong he is.”

Christopher nodded. “He promised.”

Athena’s heart wrenched at that. She could imagine it all too easily, the two of them curled up on the hood of that car where she found them, Buck making every assurance and promise he could to help Christopher feel better. Even though he was pinned under the engine block of a car, he still would have made an effort to reassure Christopher that everything was going to be okay. They were out there for hours, before Athena found them, and if she knew anything about Buck, she knew that he would have been more worried about Christopher than himself the entire time.

Like any parent would have been. 

It didn’t matter that there was no biological relation between the two. Athena knew better than anyone that family didn’t only come from blood. Buck and Christopher and Eddie were family, even if the two men hadn’t figured that out themselves yet. Perhaps this would give them the kick in the pants they both needed. 

The expression she’d used caught up to her a second after she’d thought it and Athena pressed her lips together to school her expression. Buck understood dark humor but Christopher wouldn’t. She didn’t want to have to explain the brief amusement she’d felt. Her inadvertent word play wouldn’t help either of them and might well upset the child for no reason. 

Jake grabbed his radio, leaning into it. “Dispatch, 154 is on the move. Make sure they’re ready for transfer at the VA, I don’t have enough supplies left on board to get him all that he needs.”

There was a short pause before the radio cracked, Josh’s voice echoing through. “154 this is Dispatch. Can confirm, they are ready and waiting for you. How’s he doing?”

“Still 'ere,” Buck mumbled.

“He lost a lot of blood,” Jake answered. “I’ll run IV’s wide open, but I don’t have as many bags left as I’d like.”

“Copy that,” Josh responded. “Godspeed 154.”

“Oh God. Jake, Buck’s on blood thinners!” Athena suddenly remembered, realizing the paramedic wouldn’t know that. 

He met her eyes, his widening briefly with surprise before he nodded curtly and turned back to treating Buck. “Okay. Right. I can help with that. We have something that will reverse that, if I can just find it in the mess this thing is in after today. Where the hell did Adam put it?” 

Jake moved quickly for several moments, pulling medicines and equipment out of various shelves in the ambulance. The ambulance was far messier and disorganized than Athena had ever seen Hen and Chimney’s, mute testament to the chaos of the day. Jake injected something into Buck’s arm, the medicine to help reverse the blood thinners, Athena assumed, then placed an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose and spread a thick blanket over his body. Athena knew that would be both for the shock and to try and rewarm him from the water and the blood loss. 

Buck was trying to fight it, but Athena could see his eyes lagging. Under the overhead light, she could see how badly sunburnt he was, something she hadn’t noticed before. Christopher was the same. 

“Don’t you dare go to sleep, Buckley,” Jake snapped, seeing the same thing she had. But Buck didn’t respond, his head falling to the side a little as he passed out. “Shit. He’s out. Kurt, you better step on it!”

“Going as fast as I can with all the debris,” Kurt called back from the front.

Jake cursed again, then, “I’m going to need your help, Sergeant.”

“Anything you need.” Athena sat forward, ready to help.

“Next to you in that cupboard is saline. Grab two of the bags and pass them here,” Jake told her, ripping open an IV kit. “We need to get fluids into him as quickly as we can.”

Athena nodded, doing as he asked and pulling out the saline. There were only two bags left. She watched Jake put the IV in with ease, even with the bumpy road underneath them. He held his hand out, and she put the saline in it quickly. He hooked it up, then handed it back.

“Hold that up, don’t squeeze it though,” Jake ordered, ripping open another IV kit for Buck’s other arm. He took a moment as the ambulance went over a large bump, and then slid the second needle into Buck’s other arm. He got the catheter slid on, and got it hooked up to the second bag of saline just as quickly as he had the first. He handed that back to Athena as well, and she held them both carefully.

“Can I help?” Christopher whispered, looking at the bags.

Athena glanced at Jake, who just nodded as he was digging through other supplies. So Athena handed one of the bags to Christopher, who held it gently between his palms. She didn’t have to remind him not to squeeze it, and he looked just a little bit more settled, now that he was doing something helpful.

“Chris, buddy, can you tell me how you feel?” Jake asked, glancing at Christopher as he started pulling out more medicines to give Buck. He shortened Christopher’s name just like Buck always did, Athena noticed. Perhaps it was a firefighter thing. They did love their nicknames after all. 

“Tired,” Christopher whispered.

“Are you in pain?” Jake questioned.

Christopher shrugged. “Buck’s in more pain.”

“Buck being in pain does not make your pain any less important,” Athena told him. “What hurts?”

“Everything,” Christopher admitted quietly. “I know I overdid it, trying to help Buck. But I-I had to!” His voice rose as he finished, shaking as he defended his actions. 

“Oh sweet boy,” Athena sighed, shifting the saline so she could put her arm around the boy. “You did so well, I know you really helped him. But you don’t have to hide your pain. It’s okay to be hurt, you two went through a lot out there. He has CP,” she told the paramedic at the end. 

“Does anything feel worse than just muscle aches?” Jake asked gently. He was still working on Buck, hooking up the portable heart monitor now, but looking up at Christopher when he could. “Any problems breathing, any coughing?” 

Christopher shook his head. “It feels how it does when I do a big PT workout.” 

“That’s good,” Jake smiled encouragingly at him. “Seems like you’ll be alright.”

“Buck kept me safe,” Christopher nodded. A soft, repetitive beeping began, the sound of Buck’s heart beating. It seemed a little slow to Athena, but Jake didn’t look any more worried than he already was, which reassured her. 

“Yeah, he did, didn’t he?” Athena sighed. She hated the thought of it. Of these two boys out there in the destruction, trying to stay alive. The things they both must have seen, and gone through.

“Jake, we’re almost there!” Kurt called from the cab.

“Thank God,” Jake sighed. He grabbed another blanket out, throwing it over Buck. 

Athena assumed it was to keep his new body heat in as they crossed through the night air. She sighed too, glad that the nightmare was nearly over - for her, at least. It wouldn’t be over for Buck for a long, long time, if ever. 

A piercing sound filled the ambulance and the relief Athena felt vanished so abruptly that she reeled. 

“Shit! Pressure’s falling— he’s tachycardic— cyanotic—” Jake spoke choppily as he flew into action, checking several different pieces of equipment and Buck himself too. “Kurt, he’s decompensating, floor it!” 

Christopher began crying. 

On the stretcher, Buck’s eyes flew open then rolled up into his head. 

Athena heard mumbled words, muffled beneath the oxygen mask, though the tone was agitated. She leaned forward to do something, anything. Maybe her touch would soothe him. 

Her hand hadn’t even reached Buck before he went limp and he stopped breathing. 

Athena froze, staring in horror. Beside her, she felt Christopher do the same. 

“I have to intubate!” Jake yelled, doing— Athena didn’t really know what he was doing but she recognised the long tube Jake was inserting into Buck’s mouth from tv well enough. 

“Is Buck going to be okay?” Christopher asked fearfully once Jake’s movements had slowed to a more normal speed long moments later. 

“I’m doing all I can to make sure he is, little man,” Jake replied, not sparing a glance at either of them. “This is helping him breathe. And there’s people meeting us that know even more than me,” Jake assured him. “They’re going to take him to the hospital, where they have all the equipment that he needs. Your friend is strong. He’s fighting.”

Christopher nodded somberly, no longer crying as he swiped at his eyes, and Athena tightened her arm around him. They were almost there, almost to help, Athena had gotten them out of there. She would see it in her nightmares for years, but she had gotten them out of there.

Buck just had to keep surviving and not scare the hell out of her again like that. 

Athena felt the ambulance shift, and then come to a stop. Jake moved quickly, throwing the doors to the ambulance open and immediately getting the stretcher moving.

“Hey there, Sully,” another man jogged over. “What’s the sitch?”

“Traumatic amputation with a field knife, two lines wide open for saline, he’s on blood thinners, TXA administered as well as fentanyl for the pain. Blood pressure bottomed out and he went into respiratory arrest just before we got here. I intubated and got him breathing again,” Jake rattled off, helping the new guy get the stretcher out of the ambulance. He continued updating the other man as they moved. 

“Got it,” The guy, who must be one of the residents Josh had mentioned, glanced at Athena and Christopher. “Either of you riding with?”

“He is,” Athena nodded, gesturing to Christopher as they climbed out of the ambulance. “And his father should be here to ride with them as well.”

“BUCK! ” Athena heard, then, “Christopher! Athena!” 

Athena looked to the source, seeing Eddie running through the makeshift parking lot. “Right on time actually.”

“Daddy!” Christopher exclaimed, seeing his father running towards them.

“Christopher!” Eddie called again before falling to his knees and pulling his son into his arms so quickly he damn near yanked the child off his feet. “Dios, mijo, are you alright? Are you bleeding?”

Christopher shook his head as his father patted him all over assessingly. “I’m okay. It’s not my blood, it’s Buck’s,” he said matter of factly. “He saved me. And Athena saved Buck.”

“He still needs to get looked over at the hospital,” Athena told Eddie, heart clenching over the way his face had gone pale at his son’s words. “You can ride with Buck, I’ll find Bobby and we’ll meet you there.”

Eddie looked up at her with wide, glistening eyes, murmuring, “Athena…” before trailing off helplessly. 

Athena smiled softly, knowing all the things Eddie couldn’t find the words to say. “It’s okay, Eddie.”

“If we’re going, we need to go,” the resident demanded. “He needs a hospital now.”

Eddie’s gaze snapped back to Buck as he rose to his feet, lifting Christopher into his arms with the ease of long experience. Athena had a feeling he wouldn’t be letting go anytime soon. Lord knew she’d be holding Harry close the moment she got home.  “How—”

“There’s no time,” the resident told him firmly, pulling Buck’s stretcher towards the other ambulance. “We need to go.”

“Athena…” Unspoken words and barely contained emotion shone in Eddie’s eyes as he looked towards her then back to Buck. 

“Go,” Athena ordered. “Get our boys to safety.”

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

Athena nodded, repeating, “Go,” more softly as she looked into Eddie’s anguished eyes. 

Eddie stared at her for another second, then nodded brusquely and followed the resident and Buck’s stretcher. She watched them all get in the ambulance, the doors shutting before the lights and sirens started and it pulled out. Buck was in skilled hands at last. His chances of survival just shot up, and it was all in God’s hands now - God, and the medical professionals waiting for him at the hospital. All Athena had to do was pray that things were going to turn around, that he was going to be okay. 

Her job was done. There was nothing else she could do.

“Athena!”

She turned at the sound of her name, seeing Bobby jogging towards her. Relief coursed through her, and all the tension dropped from her body with a suddenness that had her gasping as she collapsed into his arms.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you,” Bobby murmured, holding her in a warm, all-encompassing hug. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.” 

Safe at last, Athena finally let herself feel it. Let herself feel everything. 

The horror, the pain, the mind-numbing fear. She’d cut off a leg. She cut off Buck’s leg. Her friend. Someone she cared about. Someone her entire family cared about. She took a field knife to his body and she cut off his leg. 

His foot was still out there, pinned underneath a car, and someone was going to recover it during the clean up efforts and it was her fault. 

Her knife cut it off. 

Her hands were covered in his blood, his screams in her ears, the sobbing of the child who had to listen to every single second of her cutting her way through the skin and muscle and bone of his friend. Someone who was damn close to being a parent to that child. 

It was all too much.

Athena twisted in Bobby’s arms, only barely clearing his shoulder before her body forced all the nausea she’d been choking down for what felt like eons out, vomit splattering onto the asphalt beside them. It burned, hotter than the blood on her hands and the tears in her eyes, and all she could do was let it happen. There was no keeping it down anymore.

Bobby didn’t say anything, just rubbed her back as she retched and coughed and spat through it.

When nothing more was coming, when she was just gagging on air, Athena stood up again, leaning into Bobby’s arms. She knew she was shaking, though she didn’t know when it had started. She couldn’t stop, the shivers racking through her body, her breath shuddering as she realized she was crying. Sobbing in Bobby’s arms.

“I had to cut off his leg.” Athena whispered in horror, voice tight. “I had to cut off his leg and listen to him scream as I destroyed his life’s dream.”

“You saved his life,” Bobby whispered, squeezing her tighter.

“I could have killed him,” Athena protested, shaking her head despairingly. “In front of Christopher, I could have killed him.”

“You saved him,” Bobby assured her softly. “You couldn’t have waited for somebody else to get to you. We all knew it, when you told us how he was doing. You were his only hope. His leg was dead before you found them. You saved him from dying out there, alone with Christopher.”

Athena couldn’t speak, the tears stealing all her breath from her chest. 

“Come on,” Bobby whispered. “They released us from duty, we’re going to the hospital. Hen already volunteered to go get us some spare clothes and we are going to stay at the hospital until we hear that— that he’s made it. Okay?”

Athena nodded against Bobby’s shoulder, appreciating how he kept his words optimistic. He knew her well. Knew that any mention of any other outcome would have her on her knees, breaking down entirely. 

Not that it mattered. She’d seen the tightness of Jake’s eyes, the way his mouth pinched once he’d said what he could to reassure Christopher. Christopher hadn’t noticed, but she had. Buck wasn’t out of the woods yet. 

“Okay.”

She had nothing left in her to say anything else and there was nowhere else she wanted to be, anyway. Despite her exhaustion, Athena would wait as long as it took to learn if she’d saved Buck’s life - or cost him it. 

Either way, though, Athena knew she wouldn’t be seeing Buck again. 

Because even if he lived, she knew she wouldn’t be able to face him. 

Not after what she’d done. 

Chapter Text

Eddie was patching up another person that they had pulled from the rubble when the radio crackled to life and destroyed any sense of calm he’d had before. 

“Dispatch, this is 727-L-30. I found the two people. I am about to do a field amputation of a lower left leg, I need that crew on Pine to be ready to receive him as soon as I get him there.”

“Fuck, that poor bastard,” Chimney muttered looking around at the time.

Eddie nodded. Field amputations were never good. The fact that it was going to be a cop doing it? That was even worse. Eddie knew Athena, trusted Athena, but he knew she didn’t have the knowledge to perform a field amputation with the same level of expertise that Eddie could. And whoever she had found, he must be bad if Athena was willing to take that risk.

Dispatch seemed to think so as well, as Josh’s voice answered back. “727-L-30, this is Dispatch. Are you sure about the amputation?”

It didn’t take long for Athena to respond, grief echoing in her voice. “He’s a firefighter, dispatch. Tied a tourniquet around his leg well over four hours ago. He knows what he’s accepting here. He told me he’s starting to decompensate and doesn’t have any more time for us to wait for a crew to be free. I’m getting him out of here.”

He must truly be awful, if Athena was going against typical protocol to do it herself. Normally the police would wait for EMS or LAFD to get to them, to do it more cleanly, but Athena didn’t seem willing to wait. And it being another firefighter? Eddie could only imagine how bad it must be, after over four hours of waiting for rescue, for a firefighter to admit defeat and accept amputation as the only option.

“If you insist.” Josh’s voice crackled through the speakers once more. “Can he identify himself?”

This time there was a long pause before Athena answered, like she was asking someone something on the other end. But then she did respond, and Eddie almost wished that she hadn’t.

“Josh, it’s Buck.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat, his blood was the only sound rushing in his ears.

No.

Christopher.

Christopher was with Buck today.

Things were being said around him, loudly and frantically. Exclamations of shock and worry from the others that Eddie processed as pure sound, rather than words. It was all just noise behind the sound of his blood pounding. 

He felt an ache in his knees as he landed heavily on the asphalt beneath, bile rising up in Eddie’s throat at the thought of his son out there. His child . The best thing that had ever happened to Eddie. And he was out there, in all the destruction and tragedy and death that the 118 had been working in all day? 

Nausea surged up his throat so abruptly that Eddie nearly collapsed, hands slamming down onto the uneven ground below him as he fell forward.

Christopher. He didn’t know if he’d managed to say the name out loud or not. Couldn’t hear himself over the loud drumming of his heart in his ears. Eddie cleared his throat with a cough, spitting acid bile from his mouth and tried again. 

“Christopher.” 

It fell from his mouth, a harsh croak barely recognizable as a name, but from the way Hen was looking at him, Eddie knew he’d at least said it out loud that time. Then his mind caught up with his terror and Eddie realized that it was Buck who was pinned. Buck who Athena was about to amputate a leg from. 

Was Christopher even with him? Eddie couldn’t focus on Buck. He should, he knew he should. Buck was his best friend, his coworker, someone he’d been slowly falling in love with for months. And he was seriously injured. Starting to decompensate, which meant his heart was no longer able to maintain adequate circulation. Athena was about to amputate his foot, for fucks sake. It was an utterly horrifying situation that Buck was in.  

But Christopher was his son. 

Guilt threatened to press Eddie into the ground as fear for them both flooded through him. Inside, his mind was screaming Christopher! Christopher! Christopher! Outwardly, Eddie knew his face was expressionless. Schooled into the stoic facade the army had drilled him into presenting to the world when under stress. 

Soldiers wouldn’t follow a leader who looked scared.  

Athena’s voice continued, but Eddie wasn’t hearing it very well. It sounded like he was beneath the waves, listening to her through the dirty water they were pulling bodies out of. Her words were muffled, right up until he heard—  

“—Christopher. He’s okay. It’s only Buck that’s hurt. But I am not about to watch him die. Dispatch, tell the crew to be ready.”

Christopher. Christopher was okay. He was there, with Athena. With Buck. Eddie gasped, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he bent so far forward his forehead nearly touched the ground. He gasped for air again, snatching it into his lungs greedily as his body fought to restore what he’d unconsciously denied it. 

Christopher was okay. His son was okay. The rest of Athena’s words caught up with him. It’s only Buck that’s hurt. 

Oh god. Buck.   

Not Buck. 

Not Buck’s leg. Not again. It couldn’t be. Buck couldn’t lose his leg. Not after he’d fought so hard not just to heal, but heal well enough to break records while recertifying. Not after the pulmonary embolism had nearly taken him away from them all over again.

Now this might take him instead. Buck had told Athena he was starting to decompensate. Buck had training to step in as a paramedic if they get desperate, he knows what to look out for. He knows what could go wrong. So many things could go wrong - so many things already had but there was nothing Eddie could do about those, not now. 

But this. Buck might die. Buck might die out there, with only Athena and Christopher for company. All but alone, in tremendous pain and probably frightened out of his mind.   

Eddie looked up and saw the horror he was feeling mirrored on Bobby’s face. Their captain stood tall but his face was completely white. His hands were trembling. He glanced at Hen, who had tears shining in her eyes, one hand pressed against her mouth. Chimney was sitting, collapsed on his ass where before he’d been standing. He looked like he might be sick. 

None of them spoke. 

“Sergeant, this is Captain Niles of the 154 on Pine.” Another voice came through the speakers, although it took Eddie a moment to understand the words. “We have to trust that you, and he, know what you’re doing. If you two are right, he doesn’t have time to wait for us to get to him. You get him to us, and we’ll get him out of here. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

Athena didn’t respond, and Eddie felt fresh new bile rising in his throat at the knowledge of why she would stop responding. The sounds echoed in his ears from when he was overseas and had had to amputate a leg. He remembered the screams. The heart-wrenching and soul chilling cries of agony that sometimes still haunted his dreams. The sound of flesh tearing and bone breaking beneath his saw.

Athena was doing that right now. To Buck.

Athena was cutting Buck’s leg off and all Eddie had been thinking about was his son. He was an awful friend. 

Even now, Eddie was thinking more of Christopher than of Buck. Athena was going to cut Buck’s fucking leg off and all Eddie could think was that she was doing it while Christopher was there. He was beyond grateful to know that his son was there, safe - but was he, really?

What sort of safe was it really? When Christopher, at not even nine years old, was about to witness a traumatic field amputation? And it would be traumatic for Buck, of that Eddie had no doubt. He’d have no pain relief, Athena didn’t have the correct equipment or training, and god only knew what complications the blood thinners that Buck was on would cause. 

Would he rather his son be there, with them in some semblance of safe, knowing that he was about to listen to that? To the sounds that still haunted Eddie’s dreams and would now plague Christopher’s for years to come? Or would he rather his child be caught up in the flood waters somewhere, potentially injured and terrified, if it meant that Christopher wouldn’t have to hear Athena cut off Buck’s leg?

It wasn’t even a question. Of course it wasn’t. Christopher in a known, physically safe location with someone they knew was no comparison to the nightmare scenario of him lost in the aftermath of a natural disaster - even with what was about to happen to Buck. 

What was about to happen flashed through Eddie’s mind like a video on fast forward, no less vividly detailed for the speed that the scenario unfolded in his mind. One way, then another, he pictured different variables that might happen. 

Every one ended in Buck’s death. 

Buck, bleeding out when the tourniquet wasn’t good enough. 

Buck, going into multi-system organ failure from the shock to his body. 

Buck, spasming in cardiac arrest in front of Christopher being going limp. 

Buck, dying of any one of a dozen complications. All in front of Christopher. 

Buck, dying. 

Buck. 

He couldn’t die. Buck couldn’t die. Eddie didn’t know what he would do if Buck died.

He couldn’t let Athena do it. He couldn’t let her cut off Buck’s leg. Before he could think of anything else, he reached up to his shoulder, grabbing his radio. “ATHENA, STOP!” 

Eddie cleared his throat, controlling his breathing as he pushed himself back to his feet. He looked around, trying to find a street sign. He had to find them. Had to help them. He grabbed the radio again. “Athena, wait. You need to wait, I’m on my way, I’ll do it, alright? Athena, I’ll do it!”

Looking around frantically, he saw Bobby, who looked just as resolute as Eddie felt. He nodded, gesturing to Hen and Chim as he started snapping orders, delegating who should stay and who should go. As if it was any question at all. 

They were all going to go. How could they not? It was Buck . 

Luckily, they’d met up with another team so for once on this wretched day they had enough manpower to split up without deserting their current patients. They needed to get out of here. They needed to get to Buck. The radio in Eddie’s hand crackled then, and his heart broke open when he heard the voice come through.

“Eddie— itz— too late,” Buck was panting hard, no doubt struggling to stay awake from blood loss and possibly hypothermia too. “I’m— starting to lose it, ‘kay? Dun’ave— a’more time. If ‘Thena doesn’t— do thiz now, I’m gonna—”

Buck’s voice broke off and Eddie nearly fell to his knees again. He could imagine what the end of that sentence was going to be, and the fact of that matter terrified him. Buck kept speaking, with difficulty. “She— needs— to do thiz now, Edz. Do you— geddit?” 

Eddie bit back the tears welling up in his eyes. The rest of their team came closer, and he could see the fear in his heart echoed on all of their faces. Their patients were sitting there, all looking just as shocked as Eddie felt. 

“Buck— ” His voice broke and he had to stop. He couldn’t let himself get emotional right now. He needed to help Athena, he had to do what he could to keep Buck safe. “Athena, what are his stats?”

“His skin is cool and clammy,” Athena’s voice returned, a little shaky but determined. “His pulse has sped up both times that I’ve checked it since I got here. It also feels different. Weak?”

“Thready?” Eddie demanded. That wouldn’t be good. “Is there a difference between his peripheral - between his wrist pulse and the one in his throat?” Nearby, Hen was nodding with approval at his urgent questions. 

After a moment, Athena answered. “Yes, I can barely feel it in his wrist.”

“Shit.” Eddie swore, echoed by Chim. That wasn’t good. Buck was right, he wasn’t doing well. “Check his circulation. Squeeze a fingernail and count how many seconds it takes for color to come back, it should be within two seconds.”

There was a pause, as Athena did as Eddie ordered, before she responded. “Four seconds.”

Eddie huffed. That wasn’t good either. That really, really wasn’t good. He saw Hen and Chim exchanging worried looks and knew they agreed.  

“Five seconds on his other hand,” Athena continued before he’d pulled himself together enough to tell her to check it too. “He’s breathing faster, and his skin is sort of… gray.”

“Shit.” Eddie heard Chimney swear again, and a clang as Chimney threw something against one of the broken cars scattered around them. 

“Fuck! ” Eddie couldn’t hold back the curse. “Buck’s right. You can’t wait.”

“God have mercy on them all.” Bobby’s voice was low but Eddie heard him clearly nonetheless. As horrific as this was for Eddie, learning that his son and his best friend were facing something unthinkable out there somewhere, it must be just as bad for Bobby. It was no secret how he felt about Buck - and it was his wife who was about to attempt a field amputation with no experience, on her own. 

Dread settled heavily over him, shards of despair stabbing through his chest as he bowed his head in defeat. They couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. He was too far away. Athena was going to have to cut Buck’s leg off. Eddie couldn’t get to them in time and Athena was going to cut off his best friend’s leg. His partner. The man he loved but had never told.

Why had he never told Buck? Now, he might never get the chance. Athena was so inexperienced. So many things could go wrong. As dreadful as it sounded, Eddie wished with all his being that it was him that was about to do it instead. At least then, Buck would have a better chance of surviving. 

Athena didn’t respond, and Eddie pressed the radio again. “Athena?”

“We’re here, Eddie. I’m ready to start, I think.”

Eddie took a deep breath. He needed to focus. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. Buck and Athena needed him. Christopher needed him. Christopher. Chris was there, with them. Chris couldn’t be there for this. He clicked the radio again, he needed to talk to his son. “Is Christopher there?”

“Yeah,” Athena’s voice returned, then Christopher’s voice came through the radio.

“Daddy?” 

The whisper was so quiet. Eddie would have heard it through anything, though. Through the roaring of a fire, the rushing of a— a tidal wave. The irony made his heart twinge with grief and Eddie shoved it aside. It didn’t matter. He would always hear his son calling for him. 

“Hey buddy.” Eddie took a shuddering breath, hearing the exhaustion in his son’s voice. He didn’t want Christopher to experience something like this. Eddie still had nightmares about the things he saw in Afghanistan, he didn’t want his son to spend the rest of his life like this. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m okay,” Chris assured him. “Buck saved me. Now Athena has to save Buck.”

“She does.” Eddie’s voice cracked. “Is there somewhere else you can go, while she helps him?”

“I’m not leaving Buck,” Christopher told him firmly. “I told him I’d stay with him.”

Eddie shoved his fist against his mouth to hold back his anguished frustration. Letting it out for Christopher to hear wouldn’t achieve anything other than scaring the boy even more than he already must be. In front of him, Bobby, Hen and Chim watched him with damp, sympathetic eyes. 

Eddie knew that this had to be horrible for them as well, knowing what Buck was going through, but Eddie couldn’t help the thought that he had it worse. It was his son out there with Buck and Athena. It wasn’t Denny or Harry, it was Christopher. But he needed to be a good dad now, and a good friend, and do what he could from afar to help them.

“I don’t want you to see something like this, Christopher,” he begged a moment later. He didn’t want his son to have to live with that memory. Not Christopher. He was too young, too innocent of the depth of pain that the world could deal out without mercy. Eddie desperately wanted to shield him from the truth. 

“I won’t watch, but I’m not leaving,” Christopher repeated. “And you said we don’t have time, so— so there!”  

Eddie was unable to hold back his blurt of surprised, despairing laughter. He’d always been amused and disbelieving when people told him how much Christopher took after him, but when his son was this stubborn Eddie had to agree with them. His laughter, though, sounded wrong in his ears, tinged with sadness and resignation as it was. “Alright. Hand the radio back to Athena?”

He waited a second for Christopher to do so, taking a steadying breath as he did. Hen and Chimney were standing by him now, all of them listening. They would let Eddie take the lead, but he knew they had his back through this.

As he started thinking through what Athena needed to do, the radio clicked and a different voice came through. “727-L-30 and Firefighter Diaz, please switch to channel 11,” Josh requested.

Eddie switched over immediately. It made sense. Every firefighter in the area was on the same channel right now, so they could better coordinate efforts. If Eddie gave instructions on a public channel, everyone else would hear, including anybody the rest of LAFD are helping. This was going to be horrible enough for his son to hear, they didn’t need the rest of the city hearing it as well.

“Eddie?” Athena’s voice sounded, confirming that he had made it to the correct channel.

“Athena,” he refused to let himself wait. Buck couldn’t afford for Eddie to be nervous and scared, they needed to help him. “Do you have the standard first aid kit?”

“I do,” Athena confirmed.

Okay, Eddie could work with this. He could do this. He had to do this.

“Gloves on and then clean the…the area with the alcohol wipes,” Eddie ordered. “Try to get off as much dirt as you can.”

He couldn’t think of it as Buck’s leg. As Buck’s soon to be stump. Not now. He had to be clinical about it if he was to give Athena and therefore Buck, the best chance of success. 

There was a pause, and Eddie glanced at the rest of the team.

“You’ve got this,” Hen whispered. “You know what to do.” Her voice shook a little at the end, betraying her calm exterior. 

“We can take over if you need us to,” Chimney offered, his eyes far too understanding for Eddie’s fragile grasp on professionalism. 

Eddie shook his head frantically. He needed to be the one to do this, and he told them as such. He had to be the one to help Athena through this.

After a long moment, too long, Eddie pressed the radio again. “Athena? Is everything okay?”

“Buck woke up,” Athena responded. “Asked for another tourniquet because he didn’t get the first one tight enough.”

“God.” Eddie’s voice broke. That was…that was horrifying. The fact that Buck knew he didn’t get the first one tight enough but didn’t have enough strength to get it any tighter. But he couldn’t focus on that. He needed to help them. “Okay. You need to cut the flesh all the way around the bone first, before you try to cut the bone itself. You have to make sure all the muscles and tendons are completely severed. If you can, leave a flap of skin to be attached to the— the stump.”

Eddie held back a gag at the image of that happening to Buck, of all people. One of the most active people he’d ever known. Who used his body to save others, day after day. Now… Eddie shook the miserable thought from his mind. It would do no good to anyone for him to think of the future now. They had to get through this moment, before any of them could do that. 

He remembered the first field amputation he’d had to do in Afghanistan. Would never forget what the inside of the calf muscles looked like. How it had felt. And soon, Athena would have that same image, that same feeling in her own memories, something she would never be able to forget either.

“Okay,” Athena answered, unknowingly interrupting his maudlin thoughts. “Starting now.”

Eddie let the terror take him then, and dropped his radio uncaringly, falling back to his knees as the vomit he’d been holding down finally escaped him. Athena was cutting off Buck’s leg. She was cutting into his skin, slicing through the muscles, and then she was going to saw through his bones. He could hear the sounds, echoing all the way from Afghanistan and through the years. The tearing of skin, the ripping of flesh, the breaking of bones. All of it as loud as if he was there, right next to Athena and watching her do it. 

He didn’t need to be there to know what was happening to Buck in that exact moment. 

The next time Eddie saw his best friend, he was only going to have one foot. The understanding of why crashed into him and he sobbed, a single, guilt ridden cry of anguish. It was Eddie’s fault. He took Christopher to Buck’s house. He forced Buck out of bed. He suggested - damn near ordered - that they go out and do something fun. He put them in this position. He was the reason they were at the pier to begin with. 

When his stomach was empty and all he could do was dry heave, Eddie gasped wretchedly, trying to catch his breath.

“We've got you,” Hen was whispering, rubbing Eddie’s back. He hadn’t even noticed her coming closer. “You’re safe.”

“They’re not,” Eddie managed to choke out, coughing around the burning still lingering in his throat.

“They will be,” Hen told him firmly. “Bobby’s taking us back to the hospital. We’ll be there when the 154 brings him in. But you have to have hope Eddie, they need you to have hope.”

“Buck—,” Eddie croaked hoarsely.

“I know,” Hen whispered, pulling Eddie upright, then into a hug as the tears started anew down his face. “I know.”

“Christopher is there,” Eddie gasped, despairing. “Christopher is with them. He’s listening to that.”

“He is,” Hen nodded. There was nothing she could say, it was simply a fact of the matter that they all had to face. Eddie’s son was listening to Athena cut off their friend’s leg. And there was nothing Eddie could do to help them because he was stuck on the other side of the disaster zone. He was useless to them.

“We should get going if we want to get back to the VA,” Chimney’s voice was soft, nervous and worried.

“I’ll contact Dispatch, get us taken off service,” Bobby offered. He looked as broken as Eddie felt, and that made Eddie feel even worse. He wasn’t the only one suffering right now. Bobby knew that right now the woman he loved was cutting the leg off of one of Bobby’s crew. Somebody Bobby loved was hurting someone else he loved. And he couldn’t do anything to help them either.

“Bobby,” Eddie’s voice cracked.

“I know, Eddie,” Bobby nodded, a twisted, sad smile quirking his lips briefly. “I know. We’ll be there for them. All three of them. But to do that, we need to hold it together just a little bit longer.”

Eddie took a deep breath, knowing that Bobby was right. Christopher and Buck were going to need him. He was going to need to be strong for them. They were going through hell, and had been all day. This wasn’t about him. 

He had to pull it together. He needed to be ready to help them.

“Let’s get you in the truck,” Hen whispered, gently pulling on Eddie’s arms. “We have almost a full house anyways, let’s get these people back to the VA and find our people.”

Eddie nodded, letting Hen help him to his feet. His head was still rushing, and he could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, but he let her lead him to the truck. He climbed in on muscle memory alone, dropping down into his usual seat. His heart clenched as he looked at Buck’s empty seat next to him.

Dark grief filled Eddie. 

Buck would never sit there again, not now that he was losing the leg he worked so fucking hard on healing and making strong again. All he’d gone through was for nothing and now Eddie would never have his partner by his side at work again. Even as he thought it, guilt over his selfishness had a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat. What did it matter if he had to work with someone else? He could still work. He still had both his feet. Buck couldn’t - and wouldn’t. Didn’t, by now probably. 

Worse - Buck might still die. 

Eddie withdrew into himself, curling around his fear and pain and hurt like a wounded animal. The rest of the crew got the people settled, in the ambulance and in the extra space of the firetruck, and then they were on the move. 

He tried to not hate the person sitting in Buck’s spot. 

“LAFD 154,” Athena’s voice sounded through the radio again, startling Eddie from his thoughts. “Be advised I have him free and we are making our way towards you.”

“We’re ready for you Sergeant,” The captain of the 154 responded. Eddie wished that he could remember the man’s name. Buck’s life would be in the hands of his crew shortly, and Eddie couldn’t even remember their names.

He didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer, but he couldn’t stop himself from reaching up to the radio, clicking it on. “How is he?”

“Weak. In pain. But alive,” Athena answered. Her voice was soft, tired and probably overwhelmed from what she had to do. Eddie knew that feeling. It wasn’t a good one. Knowing that you had to do it, but horrified at the harm you had to cause to save somebody’s life.

“We’ll meet you at the VA hospital.” Eddie kept his voice steady, he refused to let Buck or Christopher hear him be scared. “Get him there safely, please?”

“I will,” Athena promised.

Eddie saw the others all look more relieved now that they knew it was over, but Eddie couldn’t stop thinking about what else could still go wrong. The amputation was only the first step. There were still plenty of things that could complicate things.

The truck started moving, maneuvering around the debris in the streets as they made their way back to the VA hospital. Eddie stared out the window, leg bouncing with anxiety while the streets of the darkened city passed by. 

Slowly. Too fucking slowly.

“Eddie,” Hen whispered, reaching out a hand.

“Don’t.” Eddie snapped, pulling his arm away from her reach. “I can’t hear that things will be fine. Not right now. Not when it’s my family out there. Not when they’re out there because of me. I dropped Christopher off with Buck, I made them go outside, I’m the reason they were there. And I do not want to talk about it until I know that they’re okay.”

Hen blinked, pulling her hand back, a hurt look on her face. “Sorry.”

“I know you’re trying to help.” Eddie sighed, feeling bad for snapping at her like that. “But not now. Not right now. Not until I can see them.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chimney tried.

“Please. Don’t,” Eddie begged. “I can’t talk about this right now. Please. Let me just pray for them.”

Chimney and Hen glanced at each other, nodding slightly before falling silent. Eddie regretted his manner, but he couldn’t handle talking about it. A police officer cut off his best friend’s leg. Yes, it was one Eddie knew and liked and trusted, but it was still someone untrained in trauma medicine and there was no telling what kind of bacteria and disease they’d encountered not only in the water but in the debris they were going to have to walk through to get Buck to help. There was no predicting what could go wrong, so soon after Buck survived a pulmonary embolism. Eddie didn’t want to think about potential complications but it was all his brain could focus on. The possibilities seemed endless. 

For the first time in a long time, Eddie bowed his head and closed his eyes, praying to a God he didn’t know if he believed in anymore. He’d lost God somewhere in the deserts of Afghanistan, sometime around finding out his son had cerebral palsy, or maybe when the helicopter went down. Eddie didn’t know for sure, but he knew that he didn’t trust God anymore, not after Shannon was killed so soon after coming back into Christopher’s life. But this was about Buck. And Eddie had long since accepted that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Buck, because he loved him more than anyone else knew.

So, Eddie prayed. 

He prayed as hard as he could, pleading with God to just let Buck survive . To just keep him alive. Eddie had barely figured out how to live without Shannon. He didn’t think he’d be able to survive losing Buck.

Eddie was pulled from his prayers by Athena’s voice, and even through the rough static of the radio, Eddie could hear the relief in her voice. 

“Dispatch, this is 727-L-30, the 154 got us. Help found us.”

“Copy that.” Josh answered quickly. “An ambulance from Angels Memorial is waiting for you at the VA hospital, with two of their ER residents in the back.”

“Thank you, Dispatch,” Athena responded.

Eddie raised his hand to the radio on his shoulder, trying to stop it from trembling as he squeezed down the button. “Athena? Is he—?”

“He’s alright,” Athena assured him. “We’ll meet you there.”

Eddie blinked back the tears threatening to pour down his face, hearing that Buck was still alive. He was almost out of the most danger. “We’ll be waiting.”

Eddie let his hand fall back into his lap. There was nothing he could do now. He just had to hope and pray that Athena could get Buck to the 154. He had to pray that the paramedics out with the 154 had the knowledge and the supplies to keep Buck alive long enough to get him to the VA. He had to hope and pray that there was nothing in the water that had already infected his body, that they wouldn’t go through all of this horror just to lose him to infection. He had to pray to the God he didn’t truly trust anymore, and beg him for a miracle.

“We’re almost there,” Bobby announced, clearly trying to reassure Eddie without speaking directly to him.

Eddie looked back out the window, watching the unnatural darkness of a destroyed city pass by them. But Bobby was correct, and it was only a few moments before the truck was rolling to a stop. Eddie didn’t even wait for the brakes to engage, ripping off his seatbelt and throwing open the door to jump out.

He could hear the team scrambling to rush out after him but he didn’t stop to wait for them. He ran towards the hustle of the medical tent, knowing that even if Buck and Christopher weren’t there, the people there would know where to find them.

Before he reached the tent, someone stepped into his way.

“Get out of my way,” Eddie growled, not even looking at who it was, eyes scanning the medical tent in front of him.

“I'm the medic in charge here and you are not storming into my tent and causing a ruckus when your man isn’t even in there,” the man said with the unimpressed calm authority of head medics everywhere. 

That got Eddie’s attention, and he spun around to look at the man. “Where are they?”

“The 154 is about to pull in. And there’s another ambulance waiting with two trauma residents from the ER already inside it ready to take him out of here and immediately to Angels Memorial,” the medic told him sharply. “If you want to see him, I suggest you follow me.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I know how it is,” the medic sighed. “One of the other residents, a good friend of mine, was seriously hurt by a patient not long ago. It wasn’t…easy to get through.”

“How do you do it?” Eddie whispered.

The medic chuckled. “She slapped me every time she saw me looking sad. Eventually, seeing her alive overruled seeing her almost die.”

“I hope Buck lives long enough for that.” Eddie winced, any laughter he had vanishing at the thought.

“Keep faith,” the medic told him softly. “He’s going to need all the support he can get after something like this.”

“He just went through hell, and now he's going through it again, ” Eddie’s voice broke. “And this time my son was with him.”

“Then keep faith for both of them. They’ll need it.”

Eddie nodded, thoughts running a mile a minute as he was led around the last tent, into an open staging area for the ambulances.

“Your boys will be heading for 17,” the medic gestured to an ambulance parked nearby. “God be with you all.”

Eddie couldn’t even nod in response, eyes fixed on the ambulance that would soon hold his best friend. The people in there were the only thing standing between Eddie and the loss of someone else he… someone else he cared about. He’d only just begun grieving his wife, the first person he’d ever really loved, and now this. They’d just gotten Buck back after the truck bombing and the embolism, they couldn’t lose him now. 

Not now.

Not ever. 

The sound of blaring sirens broke Eddie out of his thoughts as an ambulance screamed to a stop in the staging area. The back doors flew open as soon as it stopped, a man jumping out of it. Across the way, the back doors of 17 flew open as well, one guy in scrubs jumping out and rushing over to the 154. Eddie’s feet moved without thought, pushing him forwards as they hauled out a gurney of the 154’s ambulance, a very familiar body laying on it, motionless.

There was a tube coming out of Buck’s mouth. A mask over his face. 

Breathing for him. 

Buck wasn’t breathing on his own. 

Eddie stumbled to a stop, frozen on the spot at the sight. 

"If we put that tube in it may never come out." Chimney’s solemn voice echoed in his mind.

No. 

No. Not Buck. Not like— 

“BUCK! ” Eddie shouted instead of thinking her name, jerking into motion as he bolted towards them. Then he saw the other two figures climbing out behind the gurney. “Christopher! Athena!” 

“Daddy!” Christopher cried out, his head turning in Eddie’s direction.

Relief surged through Eddie’s body so strongly he felt lightheaded and crashed to his knees, reaching out to grab his son, embracing him tightly. “Christopher!” Eddie almost sobbed with how damned grateful he was to have the child in his arms at last. “Dios, mijo, are you alright? Are you bleeding?” Even as he asked he was running his hands over Christopher’s face, his neck and arms, then the rest of his body swiftly. There was blood on Christopher’s shirt. The sight of it sent icy chills through Eddie. 

Christopher nodded against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m okay. It’s not my blood, it’s Buck’s. He saved me. And Athena saved Buck.”

Eddie looked over at Athena, not knowing what to say to her. She seemed to understand that, smiling softly. “He needs to get looked over at the hospital. You can ride with Buck, and I’ll find Bobby and we’ll meet you there.”

“Athena…” Eddie whispered, unaccountably losing all his words. He should thank her for saving Buck’s life. But how do you thank someone for cutting off your best friend’s leg? What do you say to them?

“It’s okay, Eddie,” Athena smiled reassuringly at him.

“If we’re going, we need to go,” The man in the scrubs demanded from the head of Buck’s gurney. “He needs a hospital now.”

Eddie stared at his best friend, deathly pale, covered in blood with a tube down his throat. All he could think about was that he was about to lose someone else that he loved. He rose to his feet, lifting Christopher into his arms as he went, unwilling to let him go so soon after getting him back. “How—?”

“There’s no time,” The resident told him firmly, pulling Buck’s stretcher towards the other ambulance. “We need to go.”

“Athena…” Eddie looked back at the sergeant. There was so much he wanted to say but he felt completely incoherent.

“Go,” Athena demanded. “Get our boys to safety.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. It wasn’t nearly enough, for everything she’d done, but it was the best Eddie could do at that moment.

Athena nodded, looking as if she understood everything he wasn’t saying, and repeated, “Go.”

Eddie nodded in a rush before moving quickly to the other ambulance. The doctor in the back let him climb in, still carrying Christopher, and then they were on the move.

“Don’t get in the way,” the doctor ordered. He glanced at Christopher then, his rushed manner softening. “And don’t let him look.”

“I don’t want to see it,” Christopher whispered, already turning to press his face back into Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t tear his eyes away. If he wasn’t already sitting, he probably would have fallen to his knees at the sight.

Buck looked utterly dreadful. More like a corpse than a living person, and Eddie had seen enough of those that day. He refused to accept Buck looking like that. He looked closer, searching for the signs that would prove he was alive. 

The systematic breathing for him was the first sign. His chest rose and fell regularly, reassuringly. The lifepak beeped continuously, proving that his heart was still beating.

But Shannon’s had too. At first. 

Eddie needed more.    

Scrapes and bruises covered Buck’s face, littering his bare arms. The blood thinners at work, exacerbating the evidence of the trauma his body had been through. Or perhaps not. It felt like Eddie could see the evidence of every single thing that had collided with Buck that the day. More of his skin was bruised than clear, and it made Eddie ache just looking at it. Small scratches and lacerations, several across Buck’s face, were oozing blood sluggishly. It was a grim proof of life but Eddie would take it. Better than the alternative. 

There was a scrap of a t-shirt that was neither Buck or Christopher’s wrapped around Buck’s arm, blood soaking through it. Eddie wondered if Athena had done that, or Christopher. 

Buck’s legs, though. His legs were the worst of it. Or one of them, rather. Buck’s right leg was just as filthy as the rest of him, but his pants seemed mostly intact and covered any further bruising. His left leg, though, was hard to even look at. The part that was left, anyway. 

Eddie swallowed away nausea and made himself look. Buck had endured a horrific experience and would have to live with the results for the rest of his life. All Eddie had to do was look . He didn’t have to feel it. Hadn’t had to listen to it happen - or make it happen. He wasn’t the one that had to take a knife to the leg of someone he cared about, the one doing the cutting. 

All he had to do was look. 

No matter how much he didn’t want to, no matter how much he wished this had never happened to Buck. It had, and it felt like he would be dishonoring Buck’s courage in some way if he couldn’t even look at what remained. So, Eddie took a firm hold on his emotions, then a deep, fortifying breath, and looked at what had been done to his best friend’s leg. 

Below Buck’s knee was a large, bulky wrapping of what looked like an old towel, bloodsoaked, covered in grime, dirt and who knew what else. Eddie felt selfish for being thankful that it was covered, knowing that if he had seen Buck’s leg he would never be able to forget it, but a part of him hated it, too. Part of him wanted to see it. Wanted to see what Athena had been forced to do to Buck. To see how well she’d done. How messed up Buck’s leg was now.

“How is he?” Eddie whispered.

The doctor glanced at him, still moving around. He was hanging another unit of saline, trying to keep Buck’s blood volume up until they got to the hospital. Eddie saw the doctor’s eyes glance down to Christopher before he spoke and guessed he was moderating his answer for the child’s sake. “He’s stable, for the moment. Stats are low but he’s fighting. I won’t take the field dressing off until we’re in the trauma center, it’s too risky to do it here. It’s all up to the ortho now.”

Eddie nodded. It wasn’t a complete answer, wasn’t all he wanted to hear, but it would do for now. He could learn the details later when Christopher wasn’t around to hear.  

“What’s ortho?” Christopher whispered into Eddie’s neck.

“An orthopedic surgeon deals with bones and joints,” Eddie explained. “Buck needs one for his leg.”

“Because Athena had to cut his foot off,” Chris responded.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice broke. “I’m sorry you had to see that, buddy.”

“I didn’t watch,” Chris assured him. “And Buck tried not to scream, but I know it hurt him. The notebook helped a bit, until it fell out. Then he screamed a lot.”

“I’m sorry you were there.” Eddie took a shuddering breath, his heart clenching in pain for his son. Christopher had had to listen to Buck scream as Athena cut off his leg. His son was never going to forget that sound.

“It’s not your fault, Dad,” Christopher shook his head. “It’s not Buck’s fault either. He thinks it is, but it isn’t.”

Eddie smiled sadly, squeezing his arms around Christopher a little tighter. He wouldn’t argue with his son right now, but he knew that it wasn’t true.

“We’ll have to make sure he knows that when he wakes up,” Eddie whispered, hugging Christopher closer.

Christopher whimpered. “He will wake up, right?”

“The doctors will do everything they can for him,” the doctor reassured them. “We have some of the best trauma surgeons in the world waiting to help him as soon as we get there.”

“They’ll be able to save him?” Christopher asked.

The doctor smiled sadly. “They’re going to try their hardest. And they’re very good at what they do.”

There were no promises. Eddie knew why. It was one of the first things you were taught when you learned trauma medicine. Never make a promise. It was so much harder being on the other side of that than he’d ever imagined. 

Christopher nodded, staring at Buck’s face. He hadn’t seemed to notice the lack of a solid promise. Eddie couldn’t tear his eyes away from Buck’s leg, but all Christopher seemed to focus on was Buck’s face. It made Eddie’s skin crawl, thinking about just how long they were out there. How long the tourniquet might have been on for. Just how long did Buck lay there knowing that he was going to lose his leg? Did he tell Christopher what was happening? Buck never liked to baby Christopher, it was one of the things Eddie loved about him. He wouldn’t have lied to Christopher, he never lied to him, but Eddie couldn’t imagine just what he would have told him. If Eddie was in that position, he didn’t know what he would have done. How he would have gotten through it.

When Buck woke up, when he’d recovered, Eddie would ask him what happened out there. He certainly wasn’t going to ask Christopher. He didn’t think he could handle hearing his child tell him that story.

It felt like an eternity squished into one single, unending minute before they were pulling up at the hospital. Eddie kept Christopher huddled up against him as the back doors to the ambulance were thrown open. Buck’s gurney was pulled out, surrounded by doctors, and pushed inside. Eddie watched them go, then got to his feet. 

Another doctor appeared, helping him get out of the ambulance with his son still in his arms. “Hey there, I’m just going to take you inside and get a good look at you, is that okay?” she asked, smiling at Christopher. “I even brought along some wheels for you.”

Christopher nodded slowly. “Is Buck going to be okay?”

“They’re taking him into surgery right away,” she replied, pushing the wheelchair closer. “And as soon as we hear anything we will let you know.”

“The rest of the 118 will be here soon. They’re being released from the scene now,” Eddie told her, setting Christopher down carefully.

“Dispatch called ahead to tell us that may be the case,” the doctor said, helping Chris settle into the wheelchair. “We have a big family room set aside for you all to wait. This isn’t the first time we’ve had a team sitting vigil.”

“This isn’t the first time we’ve had to sit vigil for Buck,” Eddie murmured sadly, his heart heavy in his chest.

The doctor winced, and Eddie knew she recognized what he was talking about. This was the same hospital Buck was taken to after the truck bombing. Most of the trauma nurses and doctors knew them from that, and Eddie hated that fact. Hated that he knew them all by face, if not by name. That they all knew him, knew what Buck looked like in pain. Knew how much they’d already gone through, and how bad things were now.

“Come on.” She cleared her throat, putting a smile on her face as she looked back down at Christopher. “We’ll get this brave little man checked out and then we’ll see if they have any updates on your friend.”

Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath. Everything was out of his hands now. All he could do was follow the doctor as she pushed Christopher towards the doors. He needed to take care of his son, then he could worry about Buck. 

Even as he lied to himself, Eddie knew he was categorically unable to stop worrying about Buck, even briefly. How could he not, when the man who owned his heart was being wheeled away from him at that very moment, intubated and barely clinging to life? 

Shannon had been wheeled away just like that, and it had been the last time Eddie had seen her alive. 

Was he going to have to face the same loss again? 

No. 

It wasn’t the same. 

Because though he’d loved Shannon, it was a shallow love, born from youth and inexperience. From desperation and repression. He loved her as a friend, not as a partner. As Christopher’s mother, not as his wife. 

Buck was different. 

Eddie had never told him - had never told anyone. But he knew that Buck was the love of his life. What they had, even without the romantic aspect to their relationship that Eddie yearned for, was deeper and more meaningful that anything he’d ever had with Shannon. 

He regretted not telling Buck the truth more in that moment than any other time before. 

Would he ever have the chance, now? 

Would they ever have the chance for something more? 

Or would he lose Buck before he’d found the courage to confess how he felt and have to live without his other half for the rest of his life? 

Eddie waited, balanced on a knife’s edge between concern for his child and worry over Buck.

Alone. 

Wondering if that’s how he’d always be, if Buck didn’t make it. 

Chapter Text

Buck woke up to the strongest sense of déjà vu. It made him feel off-kilter, like he wasn’t quite tethered to reality. 

There was a deep ache in his left leg, throbbing pain all the way through his body, and he could hear a heart monitor beeping away nearby, high pitched and annoyingly repetitive. With a sigh, Buck realized it wasn’t déjà vu. He was in the hospital. Again. 

It took him a longer moment to figure out what had happened, and why he was here, but then it all came rushing back.

An overwhelming wave of memories flooded over him until it almost felt like he was back at the pier. They’d been having a great day, playing the games and riding the ferris wheel. Buck’s depression at not being able to work had lifted, banished by Chris’s cheerful nature and exuberant enjoyment of everything they did. It had been almost as if every trauma, every hardship that Buck had been through since the moment the bomb had exploded under the ladder truck had never happened at all. It was just him and the child he wished in his heart of hearts was his son in truth, rather than just a good friend, having a nice day together. 

Until he heard Christopher’s question. 

“Where did all the water go?”

Six innocent words that heralded the start of a nightmare the likes of which he could never have imagined. Buck remembered picking Chris up and bolting, desperately trying to get them to safety. The anguish of losing Chris in the first wave, only to miraculously find him somehow. Getting to the firetruck, saving anyone he could as they were swept by.

Losing Chris again when the second wave came. 

Waking up stuck underneath a car. Pinned, just like he’d been months ago under the ladder truck. Only this time it was so much worse. 

Being trapped there for hours, knowing every minute that passed was another minute that the tourniquet was killing his leg.

Athena finding them.

Athena having to amputate his leg.

That memory, of Athena’s knife slicing through his dead leg, was what finally had Buck wrenching his eyes open, frantic to flee the hellish memory.

His eyelids were crusted, from tears or salt or just morning crud he couldn’t tell, but Buck didn’t have the strength to lift his arms to deal with it. Through the blurred vision though, he could see someone sitting by his bed, probably Maddie. A small noise fell from his dry lips and mouth as he tried to get their attention, a pathetic sound only remotely resembling a croak. 

“Buck?”

Eddie. Why is Eddie here? Why isn’t he with Chris? Where’s Chris? Oh god, did something happen to him? Did I miss some— 

“Hey, you’re alright,” Eddie was murmuring. Buck could feel his heart rate increasing, mimicked by the beeping monitor. He didn’t understand why Eddie was there, reassuring him. What had happened to Chris? If Eddie wasn’t with him, did that mean— 

“Buck. You’re okay. Christopher is safe. You’re safe. Try and slow your breathing down if you can.”

Chris is safe. Relief had Buck gasping roughly, the tension in his shoulders abruptly draining away. He tried to open his eyes again, wanting more information from Eddie, but he couldn’t.  

“Eyes,” Buck grit out through clenched teeth. He summoned strength from somewhere and breathed a long, slow breath in through his nostrils, squinting his eyes closed against the crud. 

“What?” Eddie muttered. “Oh.”

Gentle hands reached out, wiping the crust off Buck’s eyes, and he finally managed to open them far enough to see Eddie, leaning over him and looking worried. He also looked haggard and disheveled. Guilt filled Buck at the sight. He caused that. 

“The doc said you can have some ice chips, just let me call them quick,” Eddie told him. He pressed the call button on the side of the bed, picking up a Styrofoam cup from the small bedside table, where a few other similar cups still sat.

Eddie must have seen Buck’s gaze, because he shrugged. “They kept melting and I wanted to have them ready for you.” 

Buck looked back at Eddie, staring at him in disbelief. He didn’t understand why he was there, there instead of being with his son, and taking care of Buck no less. His mouth opened on muscle memory when Eddie held the spoon out though, and he closed his lips around the small ice chunks Eddie fed him. The cool, melting ice helped to soothe the ache in Buck’s throat and the dryness in his mouth, though it only made the other pain he was feeling more pronounced.

“Christopher’s alright, you don’t have to worry,” Eddie whispered, spooning out another few chunks of ice. “He’s up in Peds, charming all of the nurses out of their best jello, and he insisted that I come sit with you. He wants updates every time I go up to visit him. And your sister was here for a while, but dispatch is overrun, trying to get everything back under control. The team got off duty after they brought you in though, so most of them are sleeping in the lobby, if you want to see them?”

Mutely, Buck shook his head. It was all way too overwhelming to see anyone yet. He still didn’t even understand why Eddie was here, why he was acting like he cared when Buck nearly got Chris killed. 

“They’ll be glad to know you’re awake,” Eddie smiled softly at him.

“As we all are,” a doctor grinned, pushing open the door and striding into the room. “It’s good to see you up, Mr. Buckley!”

Up. That was something he would most definitely not be anytime soon. Buck resolutely kept his eyes away from the lower half of his bed. 

“Buck,” he managed to grunt.

“Yes, your partner informed me,” the doctor nodded with a smile. “Now that you’re conscious, we just want to run some through some things with you, if that’s alright?”

Buck nodded, repressing a sigh. He knew how this went. It hadn’t been all that long since he’d done it before.

“I’ll go let the team know you’re back with us,” Eddie told him, setting aside the cup of ice and getting to his feet. He pressed a hand to Buck’s arm, for a moment longer than they usually touched, before he turned and left the room.

“Well, Mr. Buckley— my apologies, Buck, I’m Dr. Hudson, I was the orthopedic surgeon who, well, I finished your amputation.” The doctor smiled kindly, as if trying to reassure Buck.

Buck wasn’t feeling particularly assured though, and just stared at him.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dr. Hudson asked.

“Every second,” Buck whispered. He could still feel it. Every push and pull of Athena’s knife tearing through his flesh, his muscles, his bone.

Dr. Hudson winced, looking sympathetic. “Patient memory usually falls into one of two outcomes when someone experiences a traumatic event like you did. Either your brain buries it so that you forget or…”

“I remember. I always remember,” Buck told him. He could still remember the firetruck, too. He saw it in his nightmares all the time. And he knew that this was going to be in his nightmares now as well. Being pinned down and cut apart, over and over again. Great. 

He had a sinking suspicion that now nightmares were going to be the least of his worries, though. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Dr. Hudson said sympathetically. “However, I will say that your partner helped you out a lot, walking the officer through it the way he did. It was fortunate that the rod from your previous surgery was below where she had to amputate and that the damage caused to your bones allowed her to cut through them. We had to remove a little more flesh and bone to tidy it up but we were able to save the knee in its entirety.”

The way that the doctor used the term ‘partner ’ sounded wrong, like there was more importance attached to it than should be for a work partner. Knowing that that was how Eddie must have introduced himself made Buck want to cry. They hadn't worked together in months and now, they were unlikely to ever again. But Eddie had still called him his partner. 

It was too confusing and hurt too much to think about. Buck forced himself to stay focused on the present moment instead. 

“What happens now?” He didn’t want to talk about what happened. It happened and he’d be reliving it every night, he didn’t need to rehash it with the doctor as well. He needed to know what was next.

“While you are in good health, relatively speaking, losing a limb will have an enormous impact on not only your body but your emotions, relationships, vocation and way of life,” Dr. Hudson started. 

When Buck nodded, he continued. “The recovery period after a major amputation will take a long time and require hard work. Your age and excellent health, fitness and active lifestyle are all in your favor and while your medical history may present complications, we are aware of it and will monitor you closely. However, a sudden and unexpected amputation such as yours can put severe stress on the patient’s mental health. You will be encouraged to see a rehabilitation psychologist sooner rather than later, Mr. Bu— Buck.” 

The doctor stared at Buck until Buck nodded again. Despite his utter lack of desire to talk to anyone about what had happened, the need for it made sense. He wondered if he could request a male psychologist. 

“Onto the physical side of things,” Dr. Hudson resumed, and Buck took a deep breath. Here it was. Confirmation that his life as he knew it was over. 

“You can expect to be here for up to two weeks, all going well,” Dr. Hudson continued. “I won’t lie, you will feel pain as you begin to heal. Your stump may feel sharp, throbbing or hot. It’s usually easy to treat and we will monitor it closely. There is a nerve catheter inside it that is delivering local anesthetic to the nerve there to numb it and we will adjust the dosage as needed. You also have an analgesia pump that you can control to deliver intravenous morphine when you feel you need it.” 

“I don’t want opioids,” Buck said quickly. He hadn’t liked the muddled feeling they’d given him after his last leg surgery. Knowing the struggle that Bobby had with them made his desire to avoid them even stronger. 

The doctor looked at him carefully. “That group of drugs work best on stump and wound pain. We can certainly transition you to others but they may not be as effective.” 

“I don’t care. Do that. Please,” Buck added. He’d handle whatever pain weaker drugs might let him feel. Better than feeling like he’s asleep all the time or worse, getting addicted. 

“Very well, I’ll change it. If you find that the alternatives aren’t working for you, please let us know. Now, you may also feel phantom pain. This is because your brain is not used to your limb not being there. Even though the nerves in your limb have been cut, they still send messages to your brain as if your leg is still there.  It will lessen over time but there are ways we can assist until then so please tell us if you feel sensations like that.”  

And Buck appreciated that, having a doctor who listened, and who would just give it to him straight, instead of talking in circles. 

“Now, as I’m sure you understand, the circumstances of your accident have put you at high risk of infection and not only at the injury site. There is a type of aspiration pneumonia called ‘tsunami lung’ that occurs when people being swept by tsunami waves inhale salt-water contaminated with mud and bacteria. It’s treatable with antibiotics and given your currently compromised medical condition, we’ve started you on a prophylactic course as a preventative measure.” 

Buck nodded, distracted. He knew that surviving the amputation was only the first step. Now he had to survive everything that would come after. Of more concern to him just then, though, was how Christopher was doing. With his CP, he’d be at a higher risk of getting sick as well.

“The limb stump will be examined every twenty four hours for necrosis of the skin edges, bleeding, and signs of infection,” Dr. Hudson kept speaking, unaware of Buck’s internal worry. “Once the wound is healing well, a stump shrinker will be placed, which will begin providing circumferential compression around the stump and distal extremity. A prosthetics company will be contacted at that point, who will measure for your initial prosthetic. You can expect to receive it in around six weeks, barring any complications. 

“Your knee and stump have been placed into a knee immobilizer. It’s well padded, to protect the healing soft tissue, and it is essential. Together with PT, the immobilizer is designed to prevent chronic loss of joint motion due to the structural changes in muscle, tendons, ligaments, and skin that your leg has undergone. Flexion contracture at the knee can result in a bent joint that cannot be straightened. Given your occupation, this is something we want to avoid as it would limit your postoperative mobility with a prosthesis.”

Buck blinked. ‘Given his occupation.’ The doctor was talking as if it was a foregone conclusion that he’d work as a firefighter again. That couldn’t be right, they must have made some sort of mistake. Mixed his paperwork up with someone else's, maybe. There had just been a mass casualty event, after all.   

“Now, you can expect a lot of work starting almost immediately. You’ll be seeing a  physical medicine and rehabilitation doctor who will focus on restoring health and functional abilities. They’ll create a custom treatment plan built around your needs. Then you’ll have a  physical therapist work with you on muscle strength, flexibility and coordination. They’ll also train you in how to use your prosthesis once you receive it. A prosthetist, or orthotic expert, will create a customized prosthesis for you. An occupational therapist will work with you to maximize your independence and adapt to daily life with a prosthetic and also for those times you may not wish to wear one. And of course a rehabilitation psychologist. 

Buck couldn’t hide his wince at the long list of specialists. He’d only just finished the PT from the truck bombing, and he wasn’t looking forward to going back and repeating that and more, with all the other types of therapy he apparently now needed. 

“I know it’s a lot, but every specialist you’ll be seeing is important,” Dr. Hudson told him, no doubt seeing Buck’s reaction. 

“I just recovered from a major injury to this leg,” Buck shook his head despondently. Hearing everything that he still had to go through was overwhelming and despite the doctor’s positivity, he wasn’t sure he could do it. It felt impossible. The certainty that he’d never work with the 118 again sank into his bones, making him feel like— Buck snorted quietly to himself. Like he was wearing sixty pounds of turnout gear. 

Something he’d never do again. 

Dr. Hudson looked at him with a frown. “Yes, I did see that on your record. Due to your high risk of clots, you’ll be restarted on the blood thinners in two days. We need to wait to be sure the wound has clotted sufficiently and begun healing, but the risk is too high to wait any longer than that.” 

Buck shook his head again, but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t figure out the words he wanted to say. He knew it wasn’t the doctor’s fault, but he couldn’t control the aching, clenching feeling in his chest. 

Being a firefighter was his entire life. 

He’d spent years trying to find a place where he belonged, and had finally found it at the 118. He’d nearly destroyed it himself, causing so much trouble when he was a probie, but somehow Bobby saw through his mess to the good in him. Bobby let him stay, and Buck had found his purpose in the LAFD, saving people and fighting fires. Helping people. The truck bombing had nearly taken that from him, but it hadn’t. 

He’d survived. He’d fought to recover. He’d fought so fucking hard and he’d done it, too. Until the blood clots had set him back. He would have overcome that as well, though, if he’d been given the time to. If not for a tsunami, of all things. 

Now this was going to be the final nail in the coffin. Buck didn’t look at the gap below his knee but he may as well have. It was all he could think about. He was going to lose his job, and he was going to lose his family. What use would he be to them without two functioning legs?

“Mr. Buckley?” Dr. Hudson looked concerned when Buck hadn’t spoken for some time. “Are you alright?”

“What— what am I going to be able to do?” Buck finally asked. His voice shook with fear that he didn’t want to think more closely about. He didn’t want to know, but he needed to. 

Dr. Hudson smiled kindly. “In general, below-knee amputations are associated with better functional outcomes than above-knee amputations. With a properly fitted prosthetic and dedication to all of your therapy, you’ll be able to do anything you want to do.”

Except my job, Buck thought darkly. 

He couldn’t regret what had happened. Being alive and legless (he snorted cynically at his maudlin joke) was better than being dead. He didn’t want that. But it was going to take some time for him to let go of the bitterness his fate had caused. 

Dr. Hudson kept talking for a while after that, but Buck struggled to pay attention to what he was saying. Everything in his body hurt, and his left foot was itchy except he didn’t have a left foot anymore to scratch, and he wasn’t going to be a firefighter anymore, so why did any of this matter?

The doctor seemed to realize that Buck wasn’t paying attention, and trailed off, looking sympathetic again. “I know this is all very overwhelming, I’ll let you rest today, and we’ll start your recovery and rehabilitation therapy in the morning. We’ll transition you off the morphine and onto a different medication as your current dosage wears off.”

“Can I go see Chris?” Buck asked before the doctor could leave. His worry about bacterial infection affecting the child hadn’t left him. 

“Chris?” Dr. Hudson repeated. “Oh, the boy you were brought in with. Given how recently you regained consciousness it would be unwise to attempt moving yet. Your body has undergone a major trauma and you need rest as much as anything else. He will be able to visit you once his doctors clear him, however.”

Buck nodded. He’d have to ask Eddie then. Eddie had said that Chris was alright, but Buck knew that the anxiety wouldn’t unravel until he was able to see that for himself.

“Get some rest, Mr. Buckley,” Dr. Hudson ordered before leaving the room.  

Buck didn’t bother correcting him. He didn’t say anything at all, just sagged back in the bed, drained both emotionally and physically. 

Despite having been awake only a short time, all he wanted was to sleep and fall into a blessed nothingness where he wouldn’t have to think about what the rest of his life was going to be like. 

He wasn’t granted the luxury of oblivion, however. 

Only moments after the doctor had left, Eddie was tapping on the doorframe of the room, looking in at Buck hopefully, a small smile on his face. What did he have to feel hopeful about? Buck wondered tiredly. 

“I know you don’t want to see them, but well… they kind of insisted,” Eddie said. Movement behind him clarified who he was talking about and really, Buck wasn’t even surprised when Bobby, Hen and Chimney entered the room. A few seconds later, looking uncharacteristically nervous, Athena followed them. 

“Heeey Buckaroo,” Chim spoke first, speaking to him as if he were a suicidal civilian on a call at risk of jumping. Despite his inner turmoil, Buck couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Beside Chim, Hen did the same before quirking her lips at him and bobbing her head in a small nod of greeting. 

“Hey, Buck.” Bobby spoke to him much like he had after Buck had been pinned under the ladder truck. Even toned but with a certain tightness around the edges of his eyes that spoke of concern for him.  

“Ca—” Buck stopped, working to control his facial expression. Was Bobby even his captain anymore? “Hey, Bobby. Everyone,” he said instead, then stopped. He had no idea what to say. Hey how are you all, I’m great, lost a leg but yanno, all good otherwise?

Except the only true thing about that thought was the part about losing a leg. 

“Buck,” Bobby started then stopped as well, echoing Buck perhaps unconsciously. Buck braced himself to get through the outpouring of sympathy. It had always felt false to him, when his leg had been crushed and people told him they were sorry for him. He didn’t want their useless sympathy. He just wanted to recover so he could get back to work. 

Well, that wasn’t likely to happen this time. The getting back to work part, not the sympathy. 

“I’m really sorry this happened to you. That you went through all this.” 

Buck blinked several times at Bobby’s words, feeling tears pricking at his eyelashes. They sounded sincere. Like Bobby really meant it.  

“You’re probably exhausted and just want to be left alone. We’ll go soon,” Bobby said when Buck didn’t respond. “But we needed to see you. To make sure you’re… okay.” It was his turn to make a face then, showing clearly that he knew that Buck wasn’t okay by a long shot. “And I wanted you to know, I will be there for you, Buck. Anytime. Anything you need.” 

“We all will,” Hen elaborated. “You’re not alone in this, Buck.” 

He hadn’t realized how scared he was of facing what was to come alone until he’d been told he wouldn’t be. That… that meant a lot. 

“Thank you,” Buck said softly, feeling a few errant tears escape his eyes. He scrubbed them away with the back of the hand that didn’t have an IV attached to it. 

“Eddie, Chris—” he paused, swallowing away his emotions, then plowed on. “How’re his lungs? Did he swallow any water? I t-tried— I really tried, you h-have to believe me—” 

“Of course I believe you,” Eddie said at once, pushing past Hen and Chim to reach his side. 

He took Buck’s hand in his own, warmth seeping into Buck at the gentle touch. “Christopher is fine, I promise. His lungs are clear but they’ve put him on antibiotics anyway just in case. He’s tired and a little dehydrated but otherwise, he’s fine. Demanding to visit you as soon as he’s allowed. He’s very worried about you, Buck. We all were.” 

“He shouldn’t have to be,” Buck muttered. The trauma he’d put Chris through, all he’d done to him and Chris still worried about him? He didn’t deserve that. 

“He loves you, Buck. Just like we all do.” Athena’s words were quiet. She hadn’t spoken before, staying back behind the rest of them when they surrounded Buck’s bed. Bobby turned and reached out to tuck her under his arm, ushering her closer at the same time. She seemed reluctant to move. 

“Hi, Athena.” Buck tried to hold her eyes with his own but she kept dropping them, looking down at her hands, twisting and twining around each other. 

“I know you don’t want to see me. I’m sorry to intrude. Bobby insisted I see you for myself. I’ll go now,” Athena’s eyes had started to dart all over as she spoke. Up to Buck’s then away just as swiftly before shooting towards the place his leg used to be. 

“Athena, besides Chris, you are the one I want to see the most ,” Buck said emphatically. At his words, Bobby’s shoulders relaxed and he dipped his head at Buck the way he did on a scene sometimes. A silent ‘well done’ or ‘good job’. Why he did it then, Buck had no idea. 

That had her finally looking at him properly, her eyes wide with surprise. “Why? I cut your leg off!” 

“I told you to,” Buck countered. 

Athena shook her head. “I took your career away from you.”

“I did that first, when I put the tourniquet on,” he said implacably. Athena had done nothing wrong and everything right. He wasn’t about to let her blame herself for his predicament. 

“But—”

“You finished what I started,” Buck cut her off without regret. “You did what I couldn’t, Athena. You keep me alive and more importantly, you saved Christopher. And you kept me going when I would have given up. Every single thing you did out there was what you had to do. You had no other choice, you never did.”

“Did you?”

Buck stared at her, wordless. Did he? Was there anything he could have done differently, once he was pinned? No. There wasn’t. But it had been his decision to go to the pier in the first place. Sure, Chris had asked, but Buck was the one who’d made that choice. Everything that had happened— 

“And are you still blaming yourself for being there?”

His mouth fell open at her knowing question and her gaze sharpened, her former reluctance to look at him gone. Buck risked a glance at Eddie, who was looking at Athena. There’d been no time for them to talk. He still didn’t know how Eddie felt about what had happened to his son. 

Before Buck had formulated an answer that would appease Athena while also hiding from Eddie and the others how he really felt, he felt his mouth widen in a yawn. 

“I’ve been lenient but you all really need to go. Visiting hours are over and this gentleman needs his rest. You know the rules, only one of you can stay.” The words, from a nurse standing in the doorway, saved Buck. 

For the moment, anyway. He suspected Athena wouldn’t leave it alone and quite probably neither would Eddie. But for the moment, at least, he was spared. 

“It’s my turn.” Bobby’s tone left no room for dissent from the others. The mulish looks on both Maddie and Eddie’s faces would have amused him had he not been so sleepy. 

He was asleep before either of them said anything, though. Sinking down into the oblivion he’d craved, the last thing Buck felt was the oddest sensation of a kiss being pressed onto his forehead. 

Who would have done that? 

“BUCK!!! ”

The terrified scream pierced Buck to the core, fear for Chris causing adrenaline to erupt inside him. Chris was drowning! Buck had lost him, a wall of water that he had hope of fighting had snatched the boy from his arms. He had to find him, had to—

“Buck. Buck, hey, it’s alright. You’re safe, Christopher is safe. It’s over.” Bobby’s calm voice spoke over and over, repeating the words as Buck fought his way back to consciousness to find himself half upright in a hospital bed, covered in sweat and panting jaggedly. 

“Not real,” Buck gasped, chest heaving, his eyes pleading with Bobby to confirm it. 

“You’re not there. It was just a nightmare,” Bobby said firmly, one hand coming to rest on Buck’s shoulder and grounding him. “Chris is safe. You’re safe.”

“Chris is safe.” He had to say it out loud himself to make it feel real, and thumped back onto the bed as the last grasping tendrils of fear released him. A gasp of a different kind rushed from his lungs as the movement sent pain spearing through him, radiating up from his leg. Buck groaned, low and deep. 

“Pain?” Bobby asked, and he nodded, keeping his eyes clenched tight against it. He barely heard Bobby saying, “I’ll call the nurse.” 

Buck opened his eyes long enough to let the nurse check on him, nodding in answer to her questions. She injected something into the IV hanging by the top of his bed and told him it would help his pain. He managed to thank her, his voice hoarse. 

“Here, have some water.” Bobby was holding out a plastic cup for him and Buck took it gratefully. 

“Thanks. What time is it?” 

“Near midnight,” Bobby replied. 

Guilt lanced through Buck. “You should go home, Bobby. Be with Athena.” She’d looked wretched, something he’d never seen on someone who was so strong before. 

“Hen’s with her, and May and Harry. I’m right where I need to be.” 

There was an implacable tone in Bobby’s voice that Buck didn’t have the energy to fight. His throat tightened, grief and guilt and despair too hard to push away. The dim lighting in the room made everything blurry, or maybe he was crying. Buck didn’t know. He felt like he was barely awake despite how he’d been feeling only moments ago. His arm itched horribly and he tried to scratch at it only for someone’s hand to stop him.

“I know it’s annoying Buck, but you need to leave the IV alone.” 

Buck tried to tell— who was it? Who was with him? He didn’t know. But he tried to tell them his arm was itchy but there was something blocking his throat and he couldn’t speak. 

“Buck?” 

Someone was calling him but Buck had no air in his lungs to answer. The voice was familiar but he couldn’t remember their name. 

“Buck, you need to slow your breathing down. You’re safe, Christopher is safe.”

He hadn’t been aware he was breathing fast but he tried to do what he was told, something about the voice making him want to obey. Buck wanted to tell the person he was trying but his mouth felt wrong, his tongue and lips weirdly fat and clumsy. His throat was tight and suddenly Buck wasn’t getting any air at all. He couldn’t breathe.

Wheezing, Buck clawed at his throat in panic. A face appeared over his, wide-eyed and frantic, hands reaching out to grab him. 

“Buck! Nurse, come quick! NURSE! Buck, stay with me, come on kid, don’t do this. Don’t do this, Buck!” 

Buck tried again to answer but darkness clouded his sight before he managed to. 

A desperate cry of, “NURSE! HELP!!” followed him down into the depths, the fear in it and his helplessness both completely terrifying him. 

Someone was washing his face. 

The coolness of a damp cloth was soothing as it stroked across his forehead, across his cheek. A long sigh of contentment eased its way from Buck’s mouth as he turned his head into the sensation, wanting more. 

“Buck?” A hushed voice was calling his name. 

Buck was tired, so tired but there was a sharp edge of anxiety in the voice that he didn’t like. Whoever it was sounded worried. Maybe he could help them. He dragged his eyes open and found Bobby staring down at him, much closer than expected. It looked like he’d aged years since Buck had seen him last. His face was haggard, deep shadows under his eyes and lines around his mouth. There was a cloth in one of his hands. 

“Bo-bee?” Buck’s voice cracked, his throat dry and sore. “Wha—?”

“Hey.” Bobby’s face transformed, worry melting away and replaced by a relieved smile. “There you are. Wait, I’ll get you some water.” 

It was easy to wait obediently when he felt the way he did. Not as awful as he had during those terrible hours after the tsunami but it was close. Drinking from the cup Bobby held for him, Buck relished the way the water eased the rawness of his throat. 

“What happened?” Something had, he knew that much. Trying to recall, the sensation of not being able to breathe came back to Buck all of a sudden. He clutched one hand to his throat at the memory, gasping. 

“Easy, it’s okay. You’re okay, now,” Bobby said quickly, pulling Buck’s hand away gently. He wiped over the other side of Buck’s face, cleaning away the gross sticky feeling Buck hadn’t really noticed. 

“But?” 

Bobby sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and dropping his cloth somewhere as he slumped down into a chair beside the bed. “But you had an allergic reaction to the pain medication they gave you instead of morphine. Naproxen.”

“I didn’t know I had any allergies,” Buck said with a frown.

A huff escaped Bobby. “No one did. But you are definitely allergic to it. You went into anaphylactic shock.” His mouth closed tightly, a grim look on his face. 

“How bad was it, Bobby?” Buck asked quietly. The look on Bobby’s face was unsettling him. 

Instead of answering, Bobby bowed his head. It looked almost like he was praying. Buck was about to ask again when he answered, so quietly Buck could barely hear him. 

“You went into respiratory arrest and stopped breathing.” 

“Oh.” Buck stared at Bobby, who didn’t lift his head, then added, “Sorry.” 

That got a reaction, Bobby snorting and looking up at him wryly. “You don’t need to be sorry about anything, Buck. It was just… a lot. Seeing you struggling to breathe and passing out and then you stopped breathing at all. I— it scared me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Buck said again. He didn’t know what else to say. “I’m glad you were here.” 

“Me too, kid. Me too.” 

Buck sighed, eyelids growing heavy again. He didn’t want to close them though, didn’t want to slip back into the lonely darkness. “You—” he chewed his lip, the memory of not being able to breathe making him shiver. He didn’t feel strong enough to face being alone after that. Looking up at Bobby tiredly, Buck murmured, “You’ll stay?”

Bobby smiled softly, putting a hand on Buck’s and squeezing gently. “You can go to sleep. I’ll be here until the morning, then Maddie is going to come see you. You won’t wake up alone.”

That reassurance, that he wouldn’t be alone, released a knot in Buck’s chest he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. He wasn’t convinced that he deserved all this care, all this love, after he nearly got Christopher killed, but he wasn’t going to turn it down. 

He wasn’t going to turn Bobby away when the assurance made it slightly easier to breathe around the ghost of a blocked throat as he slipped back to sleep.

The feeling of a hand slipping into his own as he did banished that latent fear for good. 

A week passed and Buck felt like he hadn’t had a second to himself. 

He had had so many people coming in and out of his room that he felt like he was in one of those revolving doors some days. He’d had trouble telling all the different people apart at first and had to keep asking their names but as he began to recover from the exhaustion caused by the tsunami and what had happened after, he found remembering their names and specialities easier. 

As part of all the different therapy sessions he was having every day, he was seeing a new therapist, a trauma specialist and rehabilitation psychologist named Dr. Copeland. He’d been wary at first, not wanting to deal with that kind of therapy again, but she wasn’t the same as Dr. Wells. Not that he was being actually honest with her. He knew that if he told her what was happening in his head, he wouldn’t ever get discharged.

Nothing had changed. 

Buck knew this was all his fault. He’d made the choice to go to the pier that day. He’d made the choice to tourniquet his leg. Those were the two factors that dictated everything that happened. It was entirely on him. 

Sometimes, he knew that understanding that it was his fault changed nothing. He’d attended enough life changing emergencies to know that in the end, the cause didn’t matter. It had happened, and that was it. You just had to figure out how to move on. How to live with what had happened to you. 

That was the part he was struggling with. 

The part he was trying to hide from everyone. 

All his doctors, nurses and therapists, especially Dr. Copeland. Maddie, Chim, Hen and Karen, he did his best to hide it from them all when they visited him. Bobby too, and Athena, though her knowing eyes told Buck he wasn’t entirely successful with her. Eddie, and most of all, Chris, when he was finally allowed to visit Buck. 

Their reunion had been full of tears when Buck found he couldn’t hold his emotions in at seeing Chris alive, safe, and cracking jokes. He’d waved off Eddie’s concern, saying he was just so happy that Chris was okay. And he was. Of course he was. But seeing him had brought back memories of those long, terrible hours of being pinned and in agony, not knowing if he’d live or die and worrying about Chris the whole time. 

Buck had managed to hold it (mostly) together while they visited him. He cried, yes, silent tears that slipped down his cheeks without voilition but he smiled at Chris so much too. Even managed a chuckle here and there at the stories the boy told. 

It was when he was alone, once they’d left, that he let out the sobs he’d forced himself to hold back while they were there. 

Chris had seemed well. But Buck saw the shadows under his eyes and those under Eddie’s as well. He suspected the boy was having nightmares just as he was. The trauma Buck had put him through surfacing in the dark hours of each night. Forcing him to relive it again, and forcing Eddie to wake to comfort him. Neither of them deserved that. 

Buck couldn’t decide if knowing he’d caused it was worse than knowing there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to help either of them with it. 

And then there was himself. Or rather, his future. 

The long and short of it was, it didn’t matter what any of the many doctors and nurses he was seeing said. Buck knew he wouldn’t work again. And sometimes, that was okay. He was alive. Christopher was alive. Buck knew that was what was important. Logically, he knew that. 

Emotionally, it was an entirely different story. 

He was constantly fending off tears at the thought of never being able to be a firefighter again. Constantly hiding how devastated he was from it. Depression weighed him down so heavily that every night when he was finally, blessedly left alone, Buck wept silently into his pillow. 

But sleeping on a soaked, sodden pillow threw him right back into being submerged and washed away by salty waves of pure elemental force that he couldn’t fight against. A force that tore Christopher away from him over and over again. 

He couldn’t hide the way he woke screaming Chris’s name multiple times each night. It took several nights, though, before the nurses were able to talk him into accepting medication to help him sleep. 

Some mornings it felt like he simply couldn’t open his eyes and face his new reality yet again. The heavy feeling from taking sleeping tablets each night didn’t help with that at all. 

The physical and occupational therapists coached him through using crutches. Buck had thought he was good with them, he’d used them for so long when his leg was in the cast. It turned out that having one leg entirely encased in plaster was very different from missing the lower half of it, though. His balance was shot to hell and everything felt wrong. 

He couldn’t imagine being able to run into a burning building in full turnouts carrying sixty pounds of gear. 

Fuck, he couldn’t even imagine going up or down stairs. How was he supposed to work at anything if he couldn’t even walk? 

Buck hadn’t asked Bobby about his job. He was too scared to, even though he knew the answer. He couldn’t work as a firefighter anymore. Therefore he had no job. 

He’d been on medical leave, not working as an active firefighter when he’d lost his leg. That probably meant he wouldn’t get disability compensation, since he hadn’t been injured in the line of duty. His original injury had been, and the LAFD’s insurance had covered his expenses related to that, including medical bills. It had even paid him a reduced salary while he was recovering. But Buck didn’t know where he stood now regarding it all. 

Stood. Ha. Buck huffed despairingly at his inadvertent pun. 

No one had spoken to him about any of that. Instead, everyone was encouraging. They kept things light when they visited. Talking about his various therapy sessions, his progress, or about simple, innocuous things like the weather or what the kids had been up to that day. 

They didn’t talk about calls they’d been on or in Maddie’s case, ones she’d taken. They didn’t talk about how the tsunami recovery and clean up was going. How they had to be struggling, being a man down. Buck knew they’d found a floater to replace him, back when he was first injured. He hoped whoever it was was good, and had Eddie’s back. They’d probably end up taking his spot permanently, eventually. 

When everyone stopped pretending he was going to be fine. 

When everyone stopped pretending he’d be back. 

Doing that would mean that Buck would have to stop pretending too, though, and he wasn’t ready for that. 

Just like he wasn’t ready to talk to Eddie. Wasn’t ready to hear Eddie confirm what he really thought about Buck’s actions that day. That he wouldn’t be able to forgive Buck for nearly killing his son. 

No. Eddie was pretending that everything was alright and that he didn’t blame Buck at all, and Buck? 

Buck was sore and exhausted all the time now. 

Most of all, though, Buck was weak. 

It was easier to keep pretending. Living in a make believe world where he and Eddie were still best friends. 

So that was what Buck did. 

Buck was working on his breathing exercises, trying to ‘process his emotions’ or whatever it was  Dr. Copeland wanted him to do, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

He expected it to be one of his nurses, wanting to know how he was doing, so he called for them to come in without even thinking about it. He regretted it a little bit when the door opened and Eddie came in, bag in hand and a smile on his face.

“Hey there!” Eddie greeted him cheerfully.

Buck took all the pain that he was feeling, the physical and the mental, and shoved it into a box as quickly as he could, pasting a smile on his face. He refused to be a burden to Eddie. He’d already inflicted his bad luck on him, just lov— caring about Eddie as much as he did. There was enough on Eddie’s plate taking care of Chris, Buck refused to let Eddie worry about him too.

“Hey.” Buck tried to sound as happy as he could muster.

“How was your PT this morning?” Eddie asked, settling into the chair at Buck’s bedside.

“Fine,” Buck shrugged. “Marion said she thinks my balance is getting better.”

“That’s good!” Eddie exclaimed. “Progress is good. Do they know when you get to go home yet?”

Buck shrugged. “She said maybe a couple more days.” He’d stopped asking. The thought of leaving the safety of the hospital and being tossed out into the world to deal with his new normal alone was terrifying. Being in the hospital was easier. Buck wasn’t sure he ever wanted to leave.   

For starters, there were no stairs in the hospital. Okay, there were stairs but he wasn’t forced to use them. Not like he would be in his loft. 

Across from him, Eddie nodded, looking thoughtful. “I should have everything ready by then. And if not, everything will be ready for you at the very least and I can finish the rest later.”

Buck stared at him. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Oh!” Eddie sounded surprised. “I thought Maddie was going to talk to you about it. Your doctor mentioned a while back that they didn’t want you living alone when you were discharged. And everyone else on the team has stairs to get into their place, too. Mine does too, of course, but it also has all the accessibility features I’ve added for Christopher. So we’ve been working to get everything ready for you.”

Buck felt his brain skip a beat, unable to understand what he was hearing. The team, hearing a passing comment from his doctor days ago, was now planning on forcing Eddie to take him in when he got discharged? After Buck nearly got Christopher killed, they want to force Eddie to deal with Buck?

“Hey, Buck, you alright?” Eddie sat forward, looking worried. “Is it your leg? Is it hurting you?”

Buck bit back the automatic admission that his leg, or rather his lack of leg, was always hurting him. Instead, he shook his head and lied through his teeth. “I’m fine. I just— I’m confused.”

“Confused about what?” Eddie questioned.

“They want me to move in with you?” Buck asked.

“Well, you need someone around for the first little while,” Eddie shrugged. “And you certainly can’t stay at your loft again, not with those stairs. The recovery for this is going to be a lot longer than after the bombing. You need a place to stay. And I’m the best option.”

The best option. Eddie was the best option. Not the best offer. He was the best choice. Did he even agree to this? Buck couldn’t imagine that he had. He was the reason Chris got hurt. The reason Chris might end up needing another surgery sooner rather than later, from the damage done to his muscles in the wave. The reason Chris spent three days in the hospital recovering from the tsunami. Because Buck couldn’t protect him. And now Eddie was being forced to let Buck near his son again? 

No. Buck wasn’t going to allow that. He was broken. Absolutely, without a doubt, shattered beyond repair. He was down to one functional leg and a fucking stump. He couldn’t be a firefighter. He couldn’t help people. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even manage to get himself to the bathroom without help. He wasn’t going to allow the team to make Eddie carry Buck’s burden. Buck had dreamt of living with Eddie before, in an entirely different and completely impossible context, but that was nothing but a fantasy. He wasn’t about to let those feelings get in the way now.

“Y-you don’t have to do that.” Buck forced what he hoped was an easy-looking smile on his face. He needed to convince Eddie that it was okay to stand up to the team.

“It’s okay,” Eddie smiled back at him. Why did he look at Buck so goddamn softly? Was he trying to reassure Buck that he was okay giving in to the team? Or that he would find a way out of it later? “Chimney and Bobby have been helping me finish that half-renovated bedroom the last owner started over the garage. It’ll work well for me, and that way you can have my room and use the accessible features in the bathroom like Christopher.”

Eddie was finishing the garage room? The room he swore he wouldn’t ever finish because it was too expensive to do for what he said wouldn’t be enough reward. The room was tiny, from what Buck remembered, barely big enough for a bed and a dresser. Buck couldn’t let the team convince Eddie that he had to give up his room just because Buck had gone and lost his leg. 

It made his heart ache, to push Eddie away, but he had to make sure Eddie knew he wouldn’t be upset when Eddie backed out of whatever agreement the team pushed him into.

“You really don’t need to,” Buck whispered. “You said you never wanted to finish that. That it wasn’t worth it.”

“At the time it wasn’t,” Eddie shrugged. “But you need somewhere to stay and I’m not going to turn you away. Not after everything that’s happened.”

Buck took a deep breath. Maybe he’d have to be a little more pointed. To get it across to Eddie that he knew what must have happened and was willing to back out for Christopher and Eddie’s comfort.

“I—”

“Buck.” Eddie interrupted him. “Seriously. It’s okay. I know recovery is going to be hard on you. And it’s my fault that you’re in this situation, so I promise, it isn’t any trouble to help you. I know you’d do the same for me.”

“What are you talking about?” The question spilled out before Buck could even think to stop it. He didn’t understand what he was hearing. Eddie thought that it was his fault?

Eddie ducked his head, looking ashamed. “It’s my fault you’re… it’s my fault that you lost your leg.”

“You didn’t cut my leg off.” Buck stared at him.

“I mean, I talked Athena through it.” Eddie glanced at the bottom of Buck’s bed, where his left leg was outlined by the blanket up until it abruptly ended. Buck resolutely kept his eyes away from it. He had to look at it when he was doing PT, or moving. Any other time, he didn’t. 

Buck stared at him, still not understanding. Athena had apologized for it, but Buck forgiven her even before that. It wasn’t her fault at all, she’d just done the best she could in a horrible situation. She kept him alive, and got Chris out of there safely. Buck owed her his life - and Christopher’s. He didn’t blame Athena for what she had to do, and he certainly didn’t blame Eddie for talking her through it. Eddie’s advice was probably the only reason Buck survived the amputation at all.

“But I’m not talking about the– the actual amputation,” Eddie stuttered, wincing at his own words. “It’s my fault you were even out there in the first place.”

Buck shook his head. “No it’s not. I’m the one that took Chris to the pier.”

“And I’m the one that told you to get out of the house,” Eddie reminded him. “I’m the one that dropped him off on you, without even asking if you were available, and told you to go out and do something.”

“To go to a movie,” Buck scoffed. He had felt honored to be trusted with Christopher, that fateful morning. Being trusted with Eddie’s son, he’d thought it was a good sign for where their relationship might be heading, where he’d hoped it was heading. Instead, it turned into the worst day of his life. “Not to take him into a tsunami.”

“You didn’t know there was going to be a tsunami.” Eddie sighed. “Buck, it isn’t your fault. It’s mine. And I’ve accepted that. Let me make it up to you. Let me take care of you. Please.”

Anger filled Buck then, spilling out of him before he could stop it. “Why, because you pity me?”

Eddie sat back at Buck’s shout. “I— That’s not what this is.”

“Oh sure it isn’t,” Buck rolled his eyes. “Poor little Buck, hurt again and unable to do the one fucking thing that makes him useful. You don’t need to pretend to care about me now that I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless!” Eddie looked angry as he argued.

“Don’t patronize me,” Buck scoffed. “Being a firefighter is the only good thing I’ve ever done in my life and now I’ll never do it again. But that hardly even matters when I nearly got Chris killed! You don’t have to pretend that you don’t hate me for that anymore, Eddie.” 

He hadn’t realized he was done with pretending, but apparently he was. Well. It had to come out sooner or later anyway. 

“Buck—” Eddie started.

Buck cut him off with a raised hand. 

“Please don’t. Just don’t. I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks I am. I know I’m useless to the team now, but I am not going to let them foist me off on you just because you have some weird twisted sense of guilt. I have already lived with only one functional leg for months on my own in my loft. I can do it again. I don’t need you over my shoulder, watching me every minute of every day remembering what I nearly cost you!”

Eddie stared at Buck, eyes wide.

Buck inhaled deeply, not realizing how rough his breathing was until he tried to calm down. 

“You don’t need to rearrange your entire life just because the team has convinced you it’s the right thing to do,” Buck said bluntly.

“Is that really what you think?” Eddie’s voice was quiet as he stared at Buck, brow furrowing.

“It’s the truth, isn’t it?” Buck shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about it. He knew that it was but it was still going to hurt when Eddie confirmed it. “Everyone has convinced you that you need to take care of me and you’re too good of a person to turn them all down. But it’s okay, Eds. I can take care of myself.”

Eddie shook his head, staring down at his hands now. “Buck, that’s not what this is. I want to help you.”

“But you don’t need to,” Buck argued.

“It’s not about what I need to do,” Eddie snapped at him. “It’s about what I want. And I want to help you!”

“But you don’t need to,” Buck repeated. He couldn’t understand why Eddie was arguing so much. He was trying to give him an out, to let him escape from bearing the burden that helping Buck would be.

“I don’t care!” Eddie exclaimed. “Buck, what are you not understanding? I am not doing this out of some twisted guilt. This is my choice! I want to help you! I want you to move in so I can help you!”

“Why?” Buck shouted, ignoring the rising pain in his body as he sat up further, eyes locked on Eddie. “Why the fuck would you want to put up with a cripple like me?”

Eddie shouted back with no hesitation at all, raising his voice for the first time since their argument had begun. 

“Because I love you, Evan!”

Chapter Text

“Because I love you, Evan!” Eddie shouted. 

Buck felt the breath catch in his chest, a new ache appearing as Eddie’s words struck his heart as forcefully as if they were solid. He had dreamt of those words before. A dozen different dreams. No, more. Dozens upon dozens of ways in which his love for Eddie might be reciprocated, variation upon variation that Buck couldn’t stop himself daydreaming about whenever he thought of Eddie. And he thought about Eddie a lot. 

It was just a dream. That’s all it ever was. A fantasy, something he tortured himself with when he was home alone in his loft or during the witching hours of a shift when everyone was asleep but him. 

Who was he kidding? He tortured himself with it when he was with Eddie, too. But he’d never once let himself think it would actually happen. 

“Because I love you,” Eddie repeated. He was breathing deeply, like he’d just run a marathon instead of merely raising his voice. He looked away, staring back down at his hands, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t - I don’t know when it happened, but I love you.”

Buck stared at him, unable to find the words.

He almost couldn’t stand to listen to Eddie try to convince him of this. It was far too close to some of the things he’d dreamt of hearing from Eddie, and it made his chest ache, knowing that now he might have had a chance for something… more with him. Or that he could have had the chance, if not for the tsunami. 

“That’s why I want to help you,” Eddie continued, still looking down at his hands and the hospital floor instead of at Buck. “Not because I feel guilty. Because I love you. I didn’t really know how much until I saw you in the back of that ambulance with a towel wrapped around where your leg should have been. And I will never get that image out of my head, but I know that what you faced out there was so much worse than I faced. So I want to help you. I want to take care of you. I want you to move in and I want to help you recover and when we’ve processed all of this bullshit, I want to keep loving you. And keep taking care of you. Even if you don’t feel the same, I know you love Christopher and I want you to be there for him. You two went through something I am never going to be able to understand, and I know he’s going to need you.”

“I n-nearly got him k-killed,” Buck whispered. “How can you love me after I nearly got your son killed! ”

“You saved him,” Eddie met Buck’s eyes then. He stared so intently that Buck should have felt trapped by it. Instead, it unaccountably felt like Eddie was cradling him softly. “That’s how he remembers it. Buck, you can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened out there. It was a natural disaster. You couldn’t stop the wave. But you kept him safe.”

“He had to save me,” Buck shook his head despondently. “He made a fire. Found water. Saw god only knows what out there. I tried to make sure he didn’t see anything. I tried. But I couldn’t do it. Not really.”

“I know,” Eddie nodded. “I know you did. You saved him, Buck, and then he saved you. And he’ll talk to his therapist about it and he will be okay. But he needs you to be okay too.”

Buck shook his head. “I was supposed to look out for him.”

“And what, you think you failed?” Eddie snorted and shook his head. “I failed that kid more times than I care to count, and I'm his father. But I love him enough to never stop trying, and I know you do too.” 

They looked at each other, Buck speechless. Too many emotions were swirling around in his head for him to verbalize. The way Eddie was still gazing at him so intently unsettled him. It was too much. He started to shake his head, looking away - and Eddie moved closer, putting his hand on the top of Buck’s shoulder. His thumb rested in the dip of his clavicle, warm and reassuring. 

“Buck…” Eddie paused until Buck met his eyes again. “There's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you.” 

There wasn’t a sound in the room. 

Buck felt like there wasn’t a thought in his head, either, for one long, silent moment. Then the thoughts began. 

How? How can Eddie trust me with Chris after what happened? How can he love me, after what happened? How can he love me at all? 

“ Evan. Please,” Eddie begged. “I know how you’re feeling. That guilt in your chest. I feel it too.”

“You aren’t guilty of anything,” Buck shook his head, still reeling from the words he’d heard but couldn’t believe. Now, the way Eddie had used his first name, like it was something precious, had him stunned all over again. 

“Logically, I know that,” Eddie smiled. “I know that I have some misplaced guilt, I’ve already talked to Bobby about finding me a therapist for me to see. Because logically I know that you taking Christopher to the pier is not my fault, but I still have that voice in my head that’s really hard to ignore. And I know you feel guilty, even though you shouldn’t, and I really hope that you talk to your therapist about it too. It was a really shitty fucking thing that happened. A shitty thing that was out of all of our control and all we can do is pick up the pieces as best we can and go on.”

“And I’m the pieces?” The question jumped out of Buck before he had a chance to bite it back.

Eddie’s gaze softened, and Buck’s heart lurched at the emotions in his eyes. It wasn’t pity, not quite, but it was close and that made Buck’s heart hurt. 

“No. No, Buck, you’re not the pieces. You’re the person that I want by my side, helping me pick those pieces up. I know you don’t love me the same way that I love you, and it’s okay, I can deal with that. But I know that you’re struggling even though you try to hide it. You don’t have to do that with me. Let me help you. Just until you get through this recovery. Please.”

Wait. That was the second time Eddie had mentioned that. Had mentioned Buck not loving him back.

“What are you talking about?” Buck whispered.

Eddie frowned, looking confused. “What?”

“You don’t think I love you?” Buck asked.

“I know that you love me,” Eddie assured him. “But I know you’re not in love with me. And that’s okay. I’m not going to make this weird. I’m not going to make you uncomfortable. But I would feel better if you came to stay with Christopher and I while you recover. It’ll help him too, I think.”

Buck shook his head. “No.”

Eddie’s face fell, looking like someone had just kicked him in the chest. “Right.” He cleared his throat, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll— I’ll leave you be then. And I’ll— I’ll let Maddie know. She’ll want to take care of you.”

“Eddie,” Buck reached out a hand. “Stay. Please. That’s not what I meant. I don’t want you to go.”

“I just need some time,” Eddie told him, a forced smile on his face. “I’m not leaving you.”

“I love you too,” Buck tried.

“I know,” Eddie’s smile looked like it had been imprinted on his flesh, a stamped rigidness that had none of the softness that Buck wanted to see. “We’ll stay friends, don’t worry. I’m not going to just disappear.”

“You absolute fucking idiot,” Buck groaned. “I can’t get up and grab you, so I need you to come back over here so I can kiss you.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, and he swayed, taking one hesitant half-step towards Buck before he took another, backwards. “Wha—?”

“Eddie,” Buck all but demanded. “Come here. Please.”

Eddie finally moved forwards the way Buck wanted. He stumbled over towards the bed, reaching out with shaking hands.

Buck grabbed them as soon as Eddie was in reach, pulling him closer. He quickly moved one hand to grab Eddie’s neck, yanking him down. He didn’t close the distance completely, though, stopping with Eddie’s forehead pressed to his.

“Are you sure?” Buck whispered.

Eddie didn’t hesitate, twisting his head and closing the distance between them, pressing his lips down against Buck’s. 

Buck sighed into it, melting back against the bed. Warmth coursed through him, and for the first time since the wave hit, he felt like he could breathe again.

After a long moment that could have lasted seconds or hours for all Buck knew, Eddie pulled back to stare at Buck with wide eyes. “Is this real?”

Buck laughed wetly, blinking back tears. “Yeah. I love you too.”

“Does that mean you’ll come home with me?” Eddie asked. “And let me take care of you?”

“I’m a mess, Eds,” Buck sighed. “All I’ve ever been good at is being a firefighter. I don’t know what I’m going to do now.”

“If anyone can be a firefighter with one leg, it’ll be you,” Eddie told him. “It’ll take work, but if that’s what you want, I’ll support you every, uh, step, of the way.” 

His eyes had widened with dismay at his word choice but all it did was make Buck snort with an only slightly bitter huff of amusement. They’d always had a maudlin sense of humor, all first responders did. Had to, in their line of work. It made dealing with the things they did that little bit easier. Buck knew Eddie hadn’t meant anything by it, and it did lighten the mood, at least a little.

The words Eddie said next had all the weight of a solemn vow. “I’ll be at your side through it all if you’ll let me.”

Buck blinked once, then again. Searched Eddie’s face for the slightest sign of doubt or regret. There was nothing but calm certainty staring back at him. Still, he had to ask, “You’re sure?”

“More sure than I have been about anything in my life,” Eddie told him confidently. His eyes hadn’t left Buck’s once. 

“Alright.” Buck sighed. “But I don’t want you to renovate the garage just so I’ll move in.”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch,” Eddie told him firmly.

Buck looked at him sideways, a tiny smirk on the edge of his lips. “Your bed is big enough for two.”

Eddie blushed beautifully, scarlet creeping up his neck and his ears, but then he shook his head adamantly. “Nope. No way. Not until your leg is healed.”

“Eds,” Buck groaned, not entirely seriously. Their banter felt like old times, even with flirting added. He never wanted it to stop. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie told him decisively. “I am not going to be the one to tell your doctor that your leg got reinjured because I kicked you in my sleep. Or doing… other things. You can wait.”

“Other things?” Buck lifted his eyebrows and leered.

“Not until you’re healed,” Eddie reminded him, snorting out a laugh as he shook his head fondly. His ears were still red.  

“Do I at least get more kisses?” Buck pouted, not wanting the moment to end.

Eddie smiled. “Only if you’re taking care of yourself. And not pushing yourself too hard like I know you’ll try to. And if you could actually tell me when there’s something wrong, so that I can help you, that would be good too. I know you want to be strong for Chris, but he just wants you to be there.  There’s a lot of dangers with amputation, especially traumatic amputations. I nearly lost you. I can’t do that again. Please.” His smile dropped away at the end, replaced by shimmering in his eyes. 

Buck sighed. “I know. I don’t like it, but I know it’s going to take a while. I actually hate that it’s going to take time, but I know. And I’ll try and let you help me. I’m not used to having that, though, so I’m probably going to suck at it.”

Eddie chuckled, sniffling a little.

“I promise to try,” Buck finished with a soft smile. Then he smirked, winking at Eddie. “But I demand more kisses, starting now.”

“I believe you and I can accept that deal,” Eddie grinned, leaning in to seal it with another soft kiss.

Buck happily gave the kiss away, then settled back against the bed. “Is now a good time to tell you that my leg really hurts? And I probably need some more meds?”

“Buck!” Eddie exclaimed, fumbling for the button to call the nurse. “ Mierda, you’re going to be a horrible patient, aren’t you?”

“Probably.” Buck shrugged. “But you love me.”

Eddie sighed, but he was grinning. “Yeah. I do.”

Buck’s life didn’t miraculously go back to normal after that, but it started getting better. 

He and Eddie began learning how to navigate their new relationship together. Chris was happy with their changed status and showed it by giggling every time he saw them kissing. He seemed to delight in calling them boyfriends in a teasing way that Buck secretly adored. Both he and Eddie pretended to be embarrassed by Chris’s teasing which made the boy laugh more - and tease them more. 

Although it went unspoken, Buck knew that the lighthearted sound ringing through Eddie’s home was one they all preferred over Chris’s distressed cries in the night when he woke from a nightmare. Or Buck’s, for that matter. He wasn’t as fast at getting out of bed and getting to Chris as he once would have been, so it was Eddie that went to Chris when the nightmares happened. Went to him and, more often than not, brought him back to their bed so he and Buck could see each other. Eddie was protective of Buck’s stump and worried about one of them jarring it, though. So a lot of times Buck would wake the next day to find Chris in bed with him but not Eddie, who’d gone and slept on the couch or sometimes in Chris’s bed instead. 

Buck wanted to tell him he didn’t have to do that, but it was a comfort to both him and Chris. So instead of protesting when it happened, Buck simply told Eddie a heartfelt, “Thank you,” then kissed him. He was still getting used to being allowed to do that. 

Chris’s teasing was better than the eye-rolling they’d got from everyone else. Apparently the way they’d both been feeling about the other hadn’t been subtle to anyone other than themselves. But the team was happy for them too, and made sure they both knew it. 

Athena had made a loving but pointed comment about him finally being honest about something. That had Buck rolling his eyes but he agreed, she wasn’t wrong. He did tend to hide who he was and how he was feeling. Dr. Copeland and he were working on that. 

The team made a roster so someone was always available to take him to any appointments he needed to go to, but somehow, once he was out of the hospital, it seemed to be Athena taking him to his PT sessions more often than not. Buck was working hard on not feeling like he was a burden to them all and so one day he asked her outright about it. 

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she drove, pursing her lips in a way that told him she was considering her words carefully. Finally, “I changed my schedule to fit your PT sessions in. And before you say it, it wasn’t just for you, alright Buck? It was for me, too. Being there as you work on your recovery, it helps. Helps me see that I didn’t destroy your life completely.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. They’d had the same conversation about their mutual feelings of guilt so many times by then that it seemed pointless to rehash. That was something else he’d been working on, accepting that what had happened was no one’s fault, least of all his. It was just a thing that happened and that he had to learn how to live with. Athena and Eddie’s steadfast support, and everyone else’s, had a lot to do with Buck’s slow journey towards acceptance of that. 

So instead of saying anything, Buck just reached out and took her hand in his. They stayed that way for the rest of the drive that day. 

It took him a long time to summon the courage to ask about his medical bills. 

Bobby was the one on the roster that day, taking Buck to what he hoped would be the final fitting for his prosthetic. 

That had been a much longer process than he’d expected, but then Buck had never been good at being patient. Wanting to get back on his ‘feet’, as it were, had been a goal of his since the moment he’d known he was going to lose his leg. He’d mastered crutch use, with a lot of advice from Chris, and had the calluses on his hands to prove it. 

But there was nothing like walking without support and Buck couldn’t wait to be able to do it whenever he wanted. He kept his anticipation from Chris as best he could. Despite the similarities they shared with their respective needs for crutches, they weren’t the same. Buck would be able to walk without crutches for much longer periods than Chris ever would and he never wanted the boy to feel like he was any less for his different abilities. Eddie, of course, knew the truth, about both things. He told Buck that Chris wouldn’t feel like that but Buck was still new to parenthood and remained uncertain. Just another thing on his list to work on. 

His stump had healed well, without infection by some miracle, though the quantities of antibiotics that had been pumped into him might have had something to do with it. Buck was utterly convinced, though, that the stump shrinker had been invented as a torture device. Just because he hadn’t found proof of that on the internet yet didn’t mean it wasn’t the truth. 

He’d learned more than he’d ever wanted about blood flow since losing his leg. Since the muscles he no longer had weren’t contracting while he walked, his body needed help pushing his blood against gravity through his veins to his heart as well as controlling the swelling in his stump. With his history of blood clots, it was even more important for Buck to use it, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. The stump shrinker would also help form the end of his leg into a rounded shape better suited for a prosthetic. It was uncomfortable, and most of the time painful, but Buck knew that it was important to wear it, so he did.

All day and all night every single day with only two twenty minute breaks each day. 

It was necessarily tight - and so it hurt. It also stank from the sweat from his intense physical therapy sessions. 

On his bad days, and he had plenty of them, in the beginning especially, Buck cursed whoever invented the thing to the blackest of abysses. The pain made him short tempered and irritable and he couldn’t seem to stop himself from snapping at whoever was around. He hated when that happened and was always remorseful later. The worst was when he snapped at Christopher. That always made him feel even more guilty, hurting the kid that already had nightmares about what happened. He apologized immediately when he realized what he’d done, and Chris had forgiven him for it. Everyone was always understanding about it, which only made him feel worse. 

He was working on that, too. 

Some days, it felt like he was working on so much all the time. Like he never had a break from it at all. Those days, Eddie would park him on the couch, with a Disney movie if Chris was there, or something else if he wasn’t. He’d take Buck’s leg in his hands and massage it over the shrinker and all the way up, his strong fingers digging in painfully but releasing all the tension his pain and rehabilitation caused.

If Buck hadn’t loved him already for so many other reasons, that alone would have been a very strong contender. 

Learning how to walk with a prosthetic turned out to be entirely different than walking with a normal leg. His rehab doctor told him it would get better when he had the custom one that was being built for him, instead of the ‘one size fits all’ leg that he’d been using to learn to walk again. Even with the supposedly inferior ‘starter’ leg, though, Buck reveled in the sense of freedom that it gave him, despite the pain that came with it. 

His thigh was constantly tight, the muscles learning to work in an entirely different way than they were used to. Relearning how to walk affected his entire body as his core strength, which he’d thought was already pretty impressive, increased to an entirely new level. The process was fraught with not one but two aching legs, a throbbing back and burning shoulders every day. Eddie took great care of him, even asking his physical therapist if there were ways for him to help soothe Buck’s muscles in the evenings. His intent, earnest concentration only endeared him to Buck more. 

Sometimes, Eddie’s ministrations gave Buck such relief that it led to other forms of relaxation entirely.  

That had a learning curve all of its own and not just because of Buck’s stump. Neither of them had any idea what they were doing, when they first let the nightly massage turn into something more. But they figured that out together as well, just as they faced everything else.

They did a lot together, Buck and Eddie. Everything, it felt like sometimes - except work. That hole in his heart loomed over Buck every time Eddie left for a shift. Every time he saw news reports with LAFD trucks or people in the background, and every time any of the 118 talked about calls or even the more boring aspects of their work. At least he’d eventually convinced them that it was alright for them to talk about it. That was something, even with the way that hearing their stories caused his heart to yearn with a longing that he tried to hide. 

But there was only so long that Buck could allow himself to live in ignorance about his future and about how he was going to pay what must be astronomical medical bills. 

“Bobby, do you think the LAFD’s insurance will cover any of my medical bills? Even though I wasn’t on duty?” Buck finally bit the bullet one day and asked outright as they drove through the city on the way to the hospital where he’d be trying on the prosthetic yet again together. 

There was a long pause before Bobby answered. Long enough that Buck started to think his suspicions about not being covered were true. His mind began whirling with anxious thoughts about how he was going to pay the likely colossal figure off. Maybe he could—

“Do you remember the people you saved, the ones you got onto the 136’s truck?” Bobby asked instead of answering, breaking Buck’s spiral into anxiety. 

The non sequitur made him frown as he said, “I remember saving them. I don’t really remember them like, individually, if that’s what you mean.” 

Buck hadn’t spoken much about that part of the day. He didn’t like speaking about any of it, if he was being honest. He’d told Eddie bits of it, mostly so Eddie knew more about what Chris had been through. When anyone else asked, he changed the subject and eventually they stopped asking. He'd assumed that Eddie had told the others what Buck had told him and by the way Bobby was bringing those people up now, guessed he’d been right. 

“Well, somehow Taylor Kelly found out about it. She found a few of the people you saved and interviewed them.” 

A groan slipped out of Buck’s mouth before he could stop it and he huffed out a sigh. He and Taylor had hooked up once and it had been fun but he’d been trying to move on from his fuck boy stage and she hadn’t helped with that at all. Ali had been better for him but his crush injury had been too much for her to handle. Unlike this time, when he had Eddie by his side, through it all. 

Wonder at and gratitude for Eddie’s steadfastness filled Buck, bringing a smile to his lips that Bobby misinterpreted. 

“You should be proud, Buck. You saved a lot of people that day. And they are very grateful to you for it.” 

It’s my job was Buck’s first thought. He stifled the words before they left his mouth, though. It wasn’t his job anymore. 

“I just did what anyone would have,” he settled for instead, still wondering why Bobby was even talking about it. 

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Bobby replied, eyes on the road. “And neither do they. When Taylor aired her first news report, others came forward as well. The story went nationwide and she turned it into a series, interviewing as many people as she could find.” 

“That’s good for Taylor,” Buck said carefully. He was happy for her success, even if they hadn’t clicked in the way he’d wanted in the past, but he felt like he was missing the point. A tiny part of him wondered if his parents had seen the story, but he shut that train of thought down. It didn’t matter if they had or hadn’t, Maddie would have told them what had happened. They knew, and they hadn’t come. Hadn’t even called. It was no different from what they’d done after the ladder truck and by this point Buck didn’t expect anything different. Their indifference hurt just like it always did, but it was an old hurt, one Buck was able to (mostly) ignore from long practice. 

“The LAFD’s insurance people did decide that they’ll only cover costs associated with your original injury, during the bombing.” Bobby finally answered Buck’s question then and his heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He was right. 

He was screwed. 

“Of course, it’s absolutely bullshit, you got hurt trying to help people, they should cover it,” Bobby carried on, seemingly unaware of Buck’s despair. “It’s just a stupid line of policy that the Union is working on getting changed, but it won’t change their stance on you. Don’t worry though, it’s all going to be okay, we—”

“How will it be okay, Bobby?” Buck angrily interrupted him, scrubbing tears from his eyes furiously. He didn’t want to cry about it but that didn’t seem to make any difference. “It’s got to be thousands of dollars - hundreds of thousands! The surgery, how long I was in hospital for, all the different specialists I’ve had to see for months now - the prosthetic! Those things cost - I don’t know, but a lot! How am I going to pay for it all? I can’t even work !”  

“Hey, hey now, it’s alright, Buck.” The car stopped moving with Bobby’s alarmed words. Buck’s hands were pressed against his eyes, trying to press his tears back inside as if that would change anything at all. 

“Buck.” A hand landed on his shoulder, large and heavy. “ Buck. Take a breath. You’re about to hyperventilate.” 

Bobby was using his captain’s voice and Buck obeyed out of long habit. He sucked a hitched breath in, huffed it out raggedly and tried again.

“Good, that’s good. Keep breathing like that, alright? You’re doing fine. You’re going to be fine, Buck.” 

There was no air in his lungs to reply but Buck managed to open his eyes and give Bobby a look that made his doubt clear. The other man shimmered and wavered as if he was underwater, which had Buck shuddering before he swiped at his eyes again to get rid of the moisture there. 

“Taylor’s story of what you did, the stories of the people you saved and what it cost you, it all went nationwide and not just on tv. You went - viral, I think May called it? Your story is all over the internet.” 

Bobby was back to Taylor again and Buck didn’t get why Bobby was so obsessed with her. She was just doing her job. The idea that what he’d been through being public knowledge made Buck uneasy but he was too upset and confused to unpack that in the moment. He’d likely be talking to Dr. Copeland about that in a session at some point. Now though, he just stared at Bobby wordlessly. 

“Buck, I’m sorry. I’m doing a terrible job of this,” Bobby said earnestly, his hand squeezing Buck’s shoulder. He must have pulled over, they were stationary on the side of the street. “I’m trying to tell you that your medical bills have been written off pro-bono by the hospital. The specialists are waiving their fees. Your prosthetic is being made pro-bono, too, by the prosthetic company. The hospital board approved it after Taylor’s story broke. They told Maddie and I as your medical proxies and we decided not to bring it up until you were ready to hear about it. We thought you had enough to deal with, with everything else.”  

“They - what?” Buck heard the words but they didn’t make sense. 

“They aren’t going to make you pay anything,” Bobby said, looking at him intently. 

Buck blinked. “N-nothing? At a-all?” He’d seen that happen in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, Hen sometimes made him watch it with her at the station because she liked ridiculing the medical stuff. But he’d never heard of it happening in real life. It felt impossible to comprehend. 

“No.” The word was gentle but clear. Bobby dipped his head to catch Buck’s eyes when they drifted down to his stump and he smiled. “Nothing, Buck. And that’s not all. One of the people you saved started a go fund me for you and Taylor’s shared it after every interview. It’s doing well. Very well. You won’t need to worry about money for a long time and if you do, well, the LAFD has already been contacted by several movie producers wanting to tell your story - and pay you for it.”

Buck stared at him. It was too much. He understood the words Bobby was saying but none of it made any sense. Why would the hospital want to do that? Why would anyone, complete strangers, want to donate to a go fund me for him? Why would anyone care about his story? 

He wasn’t anybody special. He was just someone who used to save people, before he was broken. No different from hundreds of other LAFD firefighters. Thousands, around the world. 

“Are you sure they have the right person?” Buck finally croaked, having decided that had to be the answer. 

Bobby laughed, loud and fond. “Yes, Buck. It’s for you. The people you saved knew your name, and Christopher’s. He was the one who told some of them you’re a firefighter with the 118. They remembered and they tracked us down. They did it to thank you, and to help you when they learned what had happened to you.”

“Was a firefighter,” Buck muttered. He still hadn’t been able to accept that that part of his life was over with grace though he knew it was the truth. 

“Buck, you’ll be a firefighter as long as you’re breathing,” Bobby said firmly. He sounded as if he believed that that was the only possibility, like he’d say the sky is blue, of course it is. “Retired firefighters are still firefighters. Your life isn’t over and a career change won’t stop you from helping people. I believe that with all my heart.” 

A career change. Buck hadn’t thought of it like that. He’d changed careers plenty of times before he joined the LAFD. He knew how to do that. It might not be what he wanted, but as he’d told Chris right before he lost his leg, he’d rather that than be dead. With the heavy weight that worrying about money removed, for the first time Buck felt like maybe he could handle not being a firefighter anymore. 

“No matter what you end up doing, though, you’ll always be a part of the 118, Buck. And a part of my family - our family,” Bobby continued and with those words, the flood of emotion that Buck had been trying to hold back broke. 

Tears flowed down his cheeks and he sobbed once, twice, then Bobby’s arms were around him, pulling him into his embrace. It must have been uncomfortable for him, it was for Buck but neither pulled away. 

Everything Buck had been feeling was released all at once, soaking into Bobby’s shirt as Buck cried. Despair and grief for all he’d lost; guilt for what he’d put Chris through; fear and worry  about his future, about his job and money and losing everyone who meant so much to him, it all burst out in a torrent.

He wasn’t going to be alone. He had Eddie, in ways he’d only dared dream of. He had Bobby, and Maddie, and the rest of the 118.  

And he had Christopher. 

Their conversations that day came back to him and Buck realized that they applied not just to dying, but to be being a firefighter, too. If he had to choose between being a firefighter and dying that day, he would have chosen life every time. 

No matter how much it felt like his life was over, it wasn’t. It was just going to be different. Changed, like his career would have to change, but not over. 

Buck wasn’t done with life yet. Not by a long shot. 

“Buck?”

They were sitting at the dining table, Chris working on his homework while Buck worked his way through replying to the hundreds of letters of support he’d received, sent to the 118 station by people who’d heard about his story. Buck hadn’t even known that was a thing people still did, send letters like that but it was nice. It was really nice and a lot of them had helped him on days when he was feeling down so he made an effort to reply to them when he could. 

“Do you remember what you said, right before the tsunami came?” 

Buck looked up at the question to find Chris watching him. He frowned a little, unsure. “Uh. Um, no, I don’t. Sorry Chris.” He was tired from the excitement of having been cleared to drive again. Once he’d become more practiced at walking and getting around with his prosthetic, driving had been the next goal Buck had made for himself. His jeep had been lost in the tsunami so with the funds that had been so generously raised for him, Buck had bought an automatic car with modifications so that he’d be able to drive and begun lessons with his OT. Taking the test in it with the instructor, his occupational therapist and his doctor had been nerve wracking and exhausting but Buck had passed with flying colors. 

He hadn’t yet told Eddie but had made a special dinner for them to celebrate with when Eddie finished his shift. Until then, he and Chris had their work to do. 

“It’s okay. I remember,” Chris said easily. “You said you hope I find something I love doing when I grow up. Something I’m good at and that makes me feel like I matter.”

Something you could do forever. Buck remembered it as Chris spoke. He’d been depressed about not being able to work because of the blood thinners. An ironic snort huffed from Buck’s nostrils quietly. How little he’d known then.

“Ye-yeah. I remember now,” he told Chris. “I still want all of that for you, you know. That hasn’t changed.”

“No, but you have. It was nice seeing you smile again today.” Chris spoke matter-of-factly, oblivious to how Buck abruptly felt nauseous.

He thought he’d kept his sadness from the boy. Buck had stopped trying to hide his darker feelings from the adults in his life but he still frequently struggled with them. The day he’d received his custom prosthetic had marked a turning point in his recovery, one that had him moving towards acceptance that he would never work as a firefighter again. It was only the start of that journey though and Buck was still working on fully accepting his new reality.

Even the happiness he’d felt at being cleared to drive again had come with a stab of pain that he’d never drive the ladder truck or engine again. 

“You’ll find it again, Buck. The thing that gives you the best feeling for the rest of your life. I know it.” 

Buck stared at the boy, wishing he had a fragment of his certainty whilst loving him for his caring nature. Apparently not done, Chris stood up from the table and moved around to Buck, putting his hand on his cheek and gazing at him seriously. 

“You're gonna be okay, kid.”

That Buck remembered him saying well, in the bright sunlight on the pier before everything changed. Then, it had seemed an almost offhand remark of Chris’s. Now, it felt like an omen, a promise that was beyond a child’s power to manifest. He wasn’t about to say anything that would negate the meaning behind Chris’s words, though. Not after all they’d been through and all the child meant to Buck. 

“Oh, Chris.” Buck reached out and pulled him into a hug. “I know I will be but sometimes I forget. Thank you for reminding me.” 

“It’s okay. I will remind you whenever you need it,” Chris replied, then smiled at him innocently. “Can I watch tv?” His eyes flicked over to the pile of books on the table then back to Buck, who narrowed his own eyes back at the boy. 

“Have you finished your homework?” 

“Mo-ost of it…” Chris hedged, and Buck laughed, a full bellied, honest laugh like old times. It felt good. 

“Finish it all and then you can watch something,” he said, chuckling again at Chris’s resigned sigh. 

Buck watched as Chris sat down again and picked up his pencil, lips twitching at the pout on the child’s face. He returned to his own work and opened another letter and began to read. 

‘Dear Buck,

My name is Brandon Anderson and last year, I had a motorcycle accident that cost me my leg. I know what you’ve been through and what you are still going through because you see, I’m a firefighter too.’

The paper in Buck’s hand shook as his hand began to tremble. He breathed slowly in through his nostrils and kept reading. 

‘I’ve been a firefighter in Indiana for 16 years and when I lost my leg, I thought I’d lost my career, too. There aren’t enough words to explain to anyone else how that felt, but I think you know.’

He knew, alright. Knew it to the core of his being, along with an aching loneliness borne from no one else understanding exactly how he felt. His family supported him, gave him strength to keep going every day, but they’d never faced something like this. Everyone sympathized with him but they didn’t truly know. This man did. Buck’s heart began beating faster.

‘If you don’t want to give up and walk away from firefighting, I can tell you that you don’t have to. It’s hard work. Some days it feels impossible. But it is possible. You can do it.  I did. I returned to work as a fully qualified above-the-knee amputee firefighter. It is possible. Amputation isn’t the end of anything – it’s the start of something new.

Since then I’ve made it my mission to help other amputees achieve a similar goal. I’ve enclosed my contact details for you. Please reach out if you want to talk. I want to help you if you want me to, Buck. 

Regards,

Brandon.’

Buck stared at the letter in his hands with faraway eyes, no longer seeing its contents. Every word the other firefighter said resonated within him, sparking new optimism that slowly kindled into something more. Something greater. 

Hope. 

Amputation isn’t the end of anything – it’s the start of something new. 

With unexpected hope in his heart and joy in his soul, Buck pulled his laptop close and began to research. 

It was time for him to find what this new chapter in his life could look like. Brandon’s warning about it being difficult didn’t bother him. Buck wasn’t a quitter. Hard work wasn’t a problem. Most important of all, though, he knew wouldn’t be doing it alone. 

He had Eddie, his best friend and so much more now that they’d actually talked about their feelings. Not just because of the myriad ways that Eddie supported him, helped him, was there for him as he struggled with his recovery but because of his constant, steadfast love. Eddie loved him. Deeply, passionately loved him, and told him so constantly. And while Buck sometimes still wondered why, or what it was about him that made Eddie love him so much, he was learning to trust it regardless of his doubts (he never doubted his own love for Eddie, of course. That was as undeniable as the earth orbiting the sun, and as constant). 

He had Chris, who everyone had accepted was just as much Buck’s son now as he was Eddie’s, to Buck’s constant surprise. They asked him for updates and news on Chris at least as much as they asked Eddie. Or, in the case of school, the teachers and administration came to Buck more often than they did to Eddie now, since he’d taken over the bulk of monitoring Chris’s education. It made sense, with Buck having more time to devote to keeping track of it all than Eddie did a lot of the time. And he enjoyed it while Eddie struggled with it, which helped him feel like a useful, contributing part of their relationship. Eddie assured him that he didn’t have to contribute anything and it would be enough, of course. 

More importantly, his relationship with Chris himself had grown in ways Buck had never imagined it could. Chris came to him with any problems he had at least as much as he went to Eddie. Sometimes more, when it came to homework - and nightmares. He went to Eddie for that as well, of course, but Buck and Chris understand what they’d been through like no one else did. They were able to comfort each other like no one else could. And they could make each other laugh like no one else could, too. 

The first time Eddie had come home and found them laughing hysterically while having a hopping race, he’d leant against the door frame and watched. The soft, fond smile on his face would ordinarily make Buck melt, but he was having too much fun. Plus, he needed to concentrate or he’d fall and he’d come to learn that if that happened, Chris would not only win the race but he’d tease Buck without mercy about it too. 

The kid had very little sympathy when it came to Buck falling, and Buck adored him for it. He hated it when he fell and everyone made a big fuss but Chris never did. His most common reaction (after he knew Buck wasn’t hurt) was to laugh which never failed to make Buck laugh too. 

Chris had heard Athena call Buck ‘Buckaroo’ and had immediately declared that Buck was a new species of kangaroo now, the one-footed, hopping Buckaroo to be precise. Of course, that meant Buck had no choice but to call Chris ‘Chrisaroo’ back. He wasn’t supposed to hop, since it could cause damage to the knee taking all his weight, but his PT had okayed hopping for very short periods as a way of helping him learn to balance. And as usual, Chris made the pain more bearable just by being there. 

Chris was a light in his life, a reason to keep moving forward and healing. It wasn’t just Eddie and Chris that Buck had, though. 

He had Athena, who’d become an even closer friend since that day. They’d faced their nightmares together, with many tear-filled phone calls in the middle of the night. They worked on their guilt together, learning to accept the truth, that neither had any choice in what they’d done and so shouldn’t feel any guilt, either. And they learned that spending time together helped them each accept what had happened more easily. Buck’s knowledge of movies and television shows increased dramatically thanks to Athena’s company, to Chimney’s delighted approval. 

He had Bobby, who drove him to appointments as often as he could and supported him every day. Their cooking lessons resumed once Buck was well enough to stand for longer periods, and once Bobby got over his fear of Buck hurting himself through over exertion. Somehow, they’d gone from captain and firefighter to something more like father and son. 

Buck had never had a loving father figure before. It was nice, though Bobby’s overprotectiveness in the beginning almost caused strife between them. Athena helped them sort it out, once Buck talked it through with her. Bobby’s support once Buck decided he wanted to return to work as a firefighter meant the world to Buck. It might not have happened without Athena’s encouragement but she, more than anyone, knew how strong willed Buck was. She believed in him and hence so did Bobby. 

He had Maddie, who’d had his back longer than anyone else and who had always believed in him. He had Hen and Chim, who always seemed to know when Buck needed a laugh or a pint of ice cream. 

With so many people in his life who loved him so much, Buck knew he could do anything he put his mind to. Including becoming a firefighter again someday. 

Because his family would be right there with him, every step of the way.