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Chapter Text

Chapter 1 – Next of Kin

“Why can’t you be more like your brother, Thomas?”

“Because I’m not my brother, Thomas.”

“Don’t use that tone with me, young man! I catch you staring at that . . . that boy like that, and you think that that is normal?”

“Just say it, old man. Say it!”

“I will not! Because you know why! Now, you will go to confession on Saturday. That is an order!”

“Then you should go, too, what with you stumbling about the house half-drunk out of your mind––!”

“Don’t you put that on me! You haven’t got a clue what I’ve had to deal with!”

“You’re not the only one who lost Mom.”

Tommy jolted awake, panting as he tried to calm the racing of his heartbeat and forget the stinging sensation that he suddenly felt whipping across his face. He hadn’t dreamt of him in forever, the man he swore he’d forget about the moment he left home and joined the Army. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the universe trying to tell him something, because he didn’t believe in God. But he did believe in the world trying to give you some sort of sign.

He’d gotten plenty of signs since Bobby’s death. It was impossible to escape those little signs whenever Evan would cook something of Bobby’s or whenever he’d look at one of the photos that he kept in his locker at Harbor Station.

Bobby had been a far better dad to him than his own dad. His dad, as far as Tommy knew, was out there; Tommy didn’t know where, and he’d rather keep it that way.

He had nothing to say to that man, the very man who made him what he was during his early years at the 118, the man who let Gerrard influence him and hurt him in ways that he’d never been hurt before, the man who stayed with Abby Clark to try his darndest to hide what he was because he was so scared of someone knowing, someone judging.

He shivered as he registered the wetness on his face, and he felt Evan stir beside him.

“Baby?” Evan mumbled. “Everything okay?” Evan’s hand went up to touch his bare back, and he shivered under the touch.

“Yeah,” Tommy croaked out, not at all convincingly.

“Hey.” Evan sat up and moved until his arms were wrapped around him. “Honey, what’s the matter? This is the third night in a row you woke up like this.” A kiss was pressed to his shoulder.

Tommy sniffled, fighting his tears. “I . . . It’s the same one. The one of my dad on the night of my high school graduation, when I decided to join the Army.”

Evan nodded. He knew Tommy’s father was a sore subject. Tommy had only told him a few details about his dad, how his dad was a lot like Gerrard. But nothing more than that. Tommy didn’t feel like sharing all the horrible details that led up to him being the dick that he’d been when the 118 had been under Gerrard’s thumb.

“I don’t know why he keeps haunting me.” Tommy closed his eyes. “I . . . I guess with Bobby’s death, maybe . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Yeah.” Evan nodded. “I think I know.” He tightened his arms around Tommy. “Do you think you can sleep?”

“I don’t know.” Tommy opened his eyes and tried to wipe them. “And I have a shift in three hours anyway.” He looked over at the digital clock on his nightstand and saw that it was five A.M.

“Do you want me to make you breakfast, then?” Evan asked.

Tommy nodded. “Please.”

“I’ll get the coffee brewing.”

He nodded again, hoping that Evan’s cooking would bring him the level of comfort he’d need to get through the next twenty-four hours that he would be stuck on his shift at Harbor.

By the time he finished showering, he saw Evan plating up some of the leftovers they’d had yesterday: Bobby’s French toast casserole and some turkey sausages. He also saw that his coffee was the way that he liked it: a splash of cream, no sugar, and that it was also hazelnut coffee.

He had to smile at the way that Evan knew him. They still didn’t quite know what they were to each other over the last four months since Bobby’s passing, but whatever it was, Tommy welcomed it, because they both needed a place where they could grieve together; Evan needed a space that felt like his with no judgment from Eddie. Tommy needed someone who could help him mourn the truest father he’d ever known.

The taste of Bobby’s French toast helped; the cinnamon streusel top with the crunch of the pecans and the bananas melted into it was so familiar, comforting; Evan had really been the one stepping up in the kitchen lately at the 118, and that translated over to him bringing a lot of that cooking to Tommy’s home, because Tommy even had to admit that other than making breakfast, he was hopeless in the kitchen because the furthest he’d gotten with Bobby’s cooking lessons had been breakfast before he transferred out to Harbor.

They ate breakfast together before Tommy had to leave for work. He kissed Evan goodbye and said he’d see him in twenty-four hours, and patted his dog, Bear, on the head. “Be good for Uncle Evan, okay, young man?” he asked the miniature Australian Shepherd.

The dog looked at him with those gorgeous blue eyes and whined as Tommy stooped down to kiss the dog on the head. He’d been a rescue from one of Tommy’s calls; the dog had been a police dog that lost his handler due to the officer getting shot to death during an intense arson attack. The 217 had responded to the call when the 133 had called for additional air support and search and rescue, and Tommy had found the dog whimpering in the back of the building for his handler, who wasn’t moving.

Tommy had decided to take it upon himself to adopt the dog. Ever since then, Bear became family, the truest form of family he’d ever had in his lonely years after he’d broken up with Abby. He’d also been a loyal companion during Tommy’s many horrible breakups from boyfriends who saw Tommy as their first, but never their last, as they went on the path of coming out and self-discovery.

When Tommy and Evan broke up, Bear suddenly developed an argumentative attitude. Bear had loved Evan and was happier now that Evan was staying with Tommy.

At least that meant Tommy didn’t have to worry about coming home to his couch being in ruins with stuffing flying everywhere.

Tommy sighed and kissed Bear on the top of the head. “I know. But Daddy will be home tomorrow. And Uncle Evan’s gonna take good care of you, buddy. Okay?”

Bear whined again and pawed at his shoulder, and Tommy sighed, kissing the dog goodbye again before leaving for Harbor.

Tommy’s cellphone rang again for the umpteenth time. Someone must really be trying to reach him. It had to be so important that someone was desperate to get a hold of him in the midst of wildfires hitting Los Angeles and the LAFD being spread thinner and thinner during the fires.

“Death in the family, Kinard?” his work wife, Donato, asked.

“I don’t know,” he said to Lucy, shrugging. “But I’m a little busy, as you can tell.” He gestured to the world below them: thick clouds of gray growing thicker, swirling through the air as more fires raged on for days. His twenty-four-hour shift had suddenly turned into a seventy-two-hour one, and he honestly blamed their new probie, Samantha. She had to say the damn “q” word!

“Well, whoever’s trying to reach you, it seems urgent. Besides, we have to land this chopper down and assist with transport,” said Lucy.

Tommy nodded. He began landing the chopper on solid ground, and he saw Evan and the rest of the 118, along with the 122, on the ground. He nodded at Sal, who said, “Hey, Kinard! Looks like the old squad’s back together!” He gestured to Hen and Chimney, who shared grins with him.

“Yeah, looks like it, and I heard about the promotion!” Tommy gestured to the lieutenant's cap on Sal’s head. “Congratulations! Always knew it would be you!”

“And you got your wings back, man,” Sal said, but then made his little “wings” gesture before winking at Evan, to which Tommy walked over and lightly smacked him.

“Shut the hell up!”

“Hey, if you don’t mind me asking, how come you were so upset when Gerrard did that, but when he does it, it’s okay?” asked Evan.

“Because Sal’s harmless. He may be an idiot, but he’s not a dick. And unlike Gerrard, he knows when to stop!” Tommy snapped at Sal.

Sal grinned, throwing his hands up in surrender as Eddie, Ravi, and Harry Grant, the newest probie, joined them. “Fine, man, you want me to stop? Say the word.”

“Thank you,” Tommy snarked back, rolling his eyes at his old friend before throwing an arm around him.

“Okay then, we’ve got to split up here!” Chimney barked out, going into “captain” mode. “Now, according to Captain Serrano, five others are still unaccounted for out here in these woods! That means we need to split up into search and rescue pairs. Hen and I will stay here and assist the paramedics. And we’ll be partnering with the 122 for this mission, but this is Serrano’s call. Therefore, we’re playing by his rules; we need all hands on deck. Buck, you’re with Tommy––Grant, you’re with them. Ravi, you’re with Lucy. Sal, you’re with Eddie.”

“Don’t go doing anything I wouldn’t do,” Sal teased, batting his lashes at Evan and Tommy, who turned hot shades of red.

“You’re an asshole,” Evan snarked.

“Sue me. Maybe after this, we can all grab a beer together like old times,” suggested Sal.

“I’ll take you up on that, brother!” said Tommy.

“Count me in,” chimed in Harry.

“Oh, no, Grant. You’re mother, Sergeant Grant-Nash, would kill me. You’re only getting mocktails tonight, buddy,” teased Evan, laughing as Harry’s face dropped.

“All right, team, move it!” barked Howie, and they all dispersed, heading into the burning woods to look for all who were unaccounted for.

Tommy decided he hated nature. Pushing his way through burning grass and trees, he trudged his way through the fire, coughing as he yelled out, “LAFD! Anybody out there?”

“LAFD!” called Evan. “If you can hear us, call out!”

On that note, Tommy’s phone rang again. “This is the tenth time today!”

“So, block the number,” suggested Evan.

“I think I should just answer it.” Tommy heaved a sigh as he picked up the phone. “Firefighter Kinard speaking.”

“Is this Thomas Kinard, Jr.?” The voice on the other end sounded clinical and professional, and that caused Tommy to straighten up. Nobody ever called him by his full name like that. Nobody even knew that his father was Thomas Christopher Kinard, Sr., because he had never mentioned his father’s name.

“Yes, this is him,” Tommy said. “Listen, um, this is bad timing. I’m on a call right now for the LA wildfires, and . . .”

“Thomas, I understand that your job must be in high demand, and I cannot even begin to imagine the stress you are under. But this is about your father. I am his doctor, Dr. Yolanda Rodriguez; I’m calling from St. Joseph’s Hospital in Paterson.”

Tommy stiffened, feeling his chest tighten and his exhaustion creep up. He hadn’t been getting a proper night’s rest in days, and it was always the same dream of his father yelling about what a disappointment he was the night of his high school graduation, when Tommy had been caught staring at the captain of the hockey team whom he was certain had been his very first boy crush. He could still picture his old man’s disgust in him that ultimately caused him to run and enlist the first chance he had, starting with his first tour in Pakistan.

“You are listed as your father’s next of kin. One of his next of kin. Your brother, Andrew, and your sister, Katherine, are already on their way.”

“For what?” Tommy sensed he knew the answer already, though, and his dread settled in.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kinard, but . . . your father is on life support. And it’s not looking good for him. We need you and your siblings to decide what to do.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 – Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

Tommy didn’t know why he was suddenly out in the pews with Father Brian. Evan had told him this was where he’d gone after Bobby’s funeral to hopefully get clarity. He’d suggested that maybe talking to Bobby’s priest would help. Apparently, it helped Eddie when he was going through his rough patch with Chris.

Tommy hoped Evan was right about Father Brian.

He didn’t bother with the confession booth. He figured that anything he had to confess to the priest could be done with Father Brian watching him.

He figured he was already going to hell. He was a gay man who’d stopped believing in God years ago. What more did he have to lose?

He listened as Father Brian did the sign of the cross, before the priest asked him, “Why’d you come here? Do you have anything to confess?”

“I don’t know why I’m here,” Tommy admitted, feeling the heaviness weigh upon his heart as he looked up at the crucifix, as though he were scared that the big man in the sky was judging his every word he was about to utter. It made him wonder how Bobby did this every week, confessing to the guilt that he felt for murdering his own family when he hadn’t been sober.

Supposedly, it made Bobby feel better to do this.

Tommy didn’t see how.

“You obviously came here seeking something,” said Father Brian, pushing gently.

“I just . . . it was suggested by my boyfriend . . . well, sort of boyfriend, I guess you could say,” Tommy stammered, feeling his face go hot.

“I’m not here to judge you for that,” said Father Brian gently. “Love the sinner, disapprove the sin. We’re all capable of being forgiven; it doesn’t matter who we love or what we are.”

“Sounds like something Bobby would say.” Tommy blinked upward.

“Bobby Nash?” Father Brian sounded dubious, but also like he shouldn’t have been shocked that Tommy had known Bobby.

“He was my captain at the 118 before I transferred to the 217.” Tommy swallowed. “My boyfriend . . . Bobby was like a dad to him. He told me Bobby used to come here and that Eddie had come here once; Eddie said that it had helped. Evan also said that he came here after Bobby died.”

“Evan Buckley?” Father Brian asked, sounding not at all surprised.

“How many of the 118 have passed through?” Tommy asked dryly.

“Just you, Eddie, Evan, Bobby, and Athena. And his stepchildren, May and Harry,” the priest said. “But I sense you are not here just to talk to me about your friend.”

“You’re right,” Tommy whispered, his eyes burning and insides twisted as he contemplated what to say. Where should he even begin? With him being gay and as a result, the biggest disappointment to his family’s name? All the times he didn’t honor his father, despite his father never once honoring him? All the years he’d lied about who he was? All the times he’d been a dick? All the times he’d been cold and mean to Howie and Hen . . . no, not just cold and mean, racist? All the times he’d done whatever he had to in order to live, because Gerrard swore to make his life a living hell? Hurting Abby the way he did? Hurting Evan?

He didn’t realize it until now, but all those years of mass every Sunday and morning prayer at Don Bosco left him with over twenty years of Catholic guilt, even though the last time he’d been in a church had been twenty-two years ago, when he’d graduated from Don Bosco at the top of his class, accepted into USC and Harvard and Princeton to play ice hockey on full athletic scholarship, which he’d thrown away in favor of enlisting, another thing to add to the pileup of disappointments that his father was ashamed of him for.

“I’m not here to judge,” said Father Brian, breaking him out of his stupor. “But I am here to listen.”

Tommy heaved a sigh, but it did nothing to release the heavy burden resting on his heart. “Where do I even start?” he asked.

“You came here for a reason,” said Father Brian. “Can you pinpoint what that reason is?”

“I got this phone call a week ago,” said Tommy. “My father is in the hospital on life support. He’s dying, and my siblings and I need to make a decision.”

“And I sense you and your father aren’t close?”

“Isn’t that breaking one of the first Ten Commandments?” Tommy whispered. “‘Honor thy father and thy mother’? I’ll start there. Dad was . . . he didn’t make it easy. After Mom got sick, he became a totally different person.”

“How so?”

“He began drinking. He’d drink all day, every day. My brother would have to cook dinner for me and my sister because Dad was out at a bar. And when he’d come home, he’d always be angry. All the time. He’d hit us. But it was me he went after the most.” Tommy felt his throat close up as he closed his eyes, except when he did, he saw the image of his father’s angry face in his mind, and he shuddered. “I think it was because he suspected I was gay. On the night of my high school graduation, he accused me of it, told me I should go to confession because he was disgusted by me. I told him maybe he should go to confession once he sobered up because he was an embarrassment to our whole family with his drunkenness.”

“My guess is, you’re wondering how it’s possible to love him still and feel you should honor him when he didn’t do the same for you?” asked Father Brian gently.

Tommy nodded. “Part of me still cares what he thinks. Even though I shouldn’t.” He didn’t know when the tears began to fall, but he whispered, “I enlisted to get far away from him. But it was a time when if you weren’t asked, you never told. Being gay in the military was worse than lying. I just kept my head down, shut my mouth, and did what I had to do. But I think my CO always knew, ‘cause I got singled out the most.”

“Kinard! Follow me!”

Tommy felt a lump in the pit of his stomach. Ever since he’d gone through boot camp, he’d been the one who stuck out. He’d made sure not to stare at any of the other guys; he pushed it down, shoving it all in a box and storing it away deeply in the back of his mind because he couldn’t be.

But that box always threatened to burst open the longer he kept it shut, no matter how much he tried to duct tape it and seal it tight. It was not helpful when he was in the showers or up in the chopper with Escobar and Ramano. If his eyes shifted in their direction even so much, he did his darndest to look away and turn it off, because the big man up there was watching. And he could hear his old man’s words repeat in his mind.

“Disgraceful! Those disgusting perverts, trying to turn everyone gay! Not my sons! You boys better stay away from that kind of behavior, you hear me?”

That was why Tommy was dreading needing to go into CO Buchanan’s tent. What had he done that had given him away? He thought he’d done all it took to shove it away and shut it down; hell, he wasn’t a believer, but he’d said several “Our Fathers” to the rosary his mother had gifted him after receiving his first Holy Communion. While he wasn’t a religious man, those rosary beads were the one thing he had that reminded him of his mother, Rose, who, despite being sick with stage four ovarian cancer, had been present at his Communion with Uncle Danny while his father was back at home, drunk as a skunk as he struggled with the thought of his wife dying at any moment.

Still, he followed Buchanan into the tent, sealing it shut behind him and standing before his commanding officer, who eyed him critically, his beady eyes watching him with an unmistakable . . . lust?

“Sir, what do you need, sir?” he asked, feeling like he was reading from a script, determined to show his commanding officer some respect and, hopefully, he’d get the same grace back. But Commander Buchanan had it out for him the moment he started his tour. In the blazing Pakistani heat, Buchanan made the world around him even hotter, staring them all down with a sort of aggression that Tommy suspected was normal for a military man. After all, his dad had served in the Army. Tommy guessed this was part of why he’d enlisted, to not only get away from his dad, but to do what he thought his dad would want, yet his dad hadn’t wanted him to serve, he’d wanted him to go to college, even though his dad had served throughout the first five years of Tommy’s youth, leaving Tommy to be raised by Drew, Katie, and their mother.

It was sick that Tommy still wanted the man’s approval, even though he couldn’t stand Thomas Sr. Nothing he ever did was good enough. The only true guilt that he felt was leaving Drew and Katie behind to put up with him, Drew, who was wrapping up his final year of law school and would be working in family law; Katie, who was a teacher’s aide and had just given birth to Tommy’s niece, Elektra Rose Ioannou. He always questioned whether Katie and Drew resented him for leaving the way that he did, especially since he’d missed the birth of his niece last month due to being on month three of his tour, and he would be enlisting again after this so that he could work as a pilot as soon as he got his pilot’s license completed.

Buchanan regarded him with flared nostrils and narrowed eyes before saying, “Look, kid, you’re a good soldier. And you’re gonna be a great pilot once you get that license. But I won’t tolerate any funny business around here.”

“What funny business, sir?” he asked, deciding it would be best to try playing dumb.

But Buchanan saw right through him as he reached over for Tommy’s belt buckle. “Look, kid,” he whispered. “You need to learn what happens when people can’t keep their eyes to themselves around here.”

Tommy felt an overwhelming nausea hit him as he felt his belt buckle come undone, and his entire head turned bright red as he willed for Buchanan not to do what he thought the man was going to do.

Tommy finished his story; tears were rolling down his face at this point as he recounted the degrading ways Buchanan would put him down, forcing Tommy to drop his pants whenever they were in privacy of the commander’s tent so that Buchanan could stare at his ass and dick far longer than Tommy was ever comfortable with allowing, the little comments like “slut” and “whore.”

He'd gotten an honorable discharge from the Army by the time he finished his second tour, having helped save several members of his own team. He’d been shot at, flown a chopper through a warzone, and the honorable discharge had been his reward for staying silent and not speaking up.

The snares of terror continued roping around him even after he left the Army and decided to join the firefighters’ academy and become certified in search and rescue instead of continuing to serve. After completing his time at the academy in New Jersey, he decided once again to run far away, this time to Los Angeles, the best fire department in the country.

Little did he know that the degradation and humiliation would follow him after he stepped foot into the 118, when he became Gerrard’s favorite.

“Do you still claim you are not here to judge, and just listen?” Tommy asked once he finished disclosing to Father Brian about the sexual harassment he’d endured during his first tour.

“Yes,” Father Brian said gently. “I . . . I cannot even begin to imagine how heavy that is, needing to carry all that around for so long. But those are not your sins, Tommy. The one who’d done those things to you must live with that for the rest of his life and do penance, but not you. It’s hardly your cross to bear.”

Tommy laughed wryly, tearfully, sounding what he thought to be a little insane as he said, “How could you say that, Father? That’s not how anybody else back then would’ve seen it.”

“Well, they’re wrong,” said Father Brian. “Anybody who ever made you feel that you are only worth for your body, they haven’t got the faintest clue how wrong they are. And I don’t know how anyone could call you less than strong after all you’d endured.”

“But my old man would tell me that all I’d put up with was weakness, that I should’ve fought back, that because I didn’t fight back, maybe I’d liked it.” Tommy felt sick just uttering those words as he tried fruitlessly wiping his eyes. Still, more tears kept falling as he released his burden upon the priest, who did just as he promised: he didn’t judge, he just listened, only his words and attempts at comfort were in vain because he had no idea what it was like.

“If he thinks that, then he is in the wrong,” whispered Father Brian in that all-knowing, comforting voice.

“I honestly don’t know what to do,” Tommy choked out. “I hadn’t spoken to him since I was eighteen. I haven’t seen Katie and Drew in . . . gosh.” He counted on his fingers the years, starting with 2003 when he left for his first tour, completing eight months in Pakistan, taking two months off, and then going off to enlist again, this time going on tour in Saudi Arabia, which lasted him six months in 2004 until finally, he went off to join the firefighters’ academy and then went to the 118 as a probie, and by the time he completed his probationary year, Howie came into the picture in ’05.

“I haven’t seen my brother, my sister, or my little niece since I left for LA in ’04,” Tommy whispered. “And now I have to face them because our dad is dying and needs someone to decide whether or not to pull the plug? I . . . I don’t know if I can do it. Would they even want to see me? I . . . I haven’t gotten a Christmas card from them in all these years!”

“Then do not do it for your father,” said Father Brian. “Do it for you because you need closure so that you may heal.”

“I’m scared that it hurt so bad I’ll never heal, and I’ll never feel normal again,” Tommy sobbed out, burying his face into his hands.

“Do you want me to pray for you?”

Tommy nodded, sobbing again as Father Brian bowed his head and prayed.

“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love. Where there is injury, pardon. Where there is doubt, faith. Where there is despair, hope. Where there is darkness, light. And where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand. To be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. It is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen.”

The words “Where there is hatred, let me sow love” hit something in Tommy; for years, he’d never thought he’d be capable of giving any kind of love to anybody, especially after how deeply he’d hurt Abby by breaking up with her. And as Father Brian shifted to the next prayer, it seemed to break and heal something within him simultaneously.

“Oh, Almighty God, whose great power and eternal wisdom embraces the universe, watch over all Firefighters. Protect them from harm in the performance of their duty to fight fire, save lives, and preserve property. We pray, help them to keep our homes and all buildings safe day and night. We recommend them to Your loving care because their duty is dangerous. Grant them Your unending strength and courage in their daily assignments. Dear God, protect these brave persons. Grant them Your Almighty protection and unite them safely with their families after duty has ended. Amen.

“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the Devil.” Tommy felt the stinging sensation at hearing “The wickedness and snares of the Devil,” because he’d all but given in to that wickedness so many times over, had been an awful person, and yet here he sat having a priest pray for him, which he still did not believe that he deserved. “May God rebuke him, we humbly pray, and do thou, O prince of the heavenly hosts, by the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits who wander through the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen. Glory be to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now, and will be forever. Amen.”

Tommy picked at his dinner as he and Evan sat on the sofa that night, watching Love, Actually. It was Tommy’s favorite, yet he couldn’t get invested in the story. The spaghetti and meatballs––Bobby’s spaghetti and meatballs––felt like a brick in his stomach. He kept thinking about Father Brian’s words from earlier that day. He’d gone there hoping it would make him feel better.

He felt both better and worse all at once.

However, he knew now what he needed to do.

As much as he hated it, he needed to go to New Jersey and make that decision with his brother and sister. He needed to reconcile with his siblings, at the very least. To hell with his father. His brother and his sister and his niece were far more precious to him.

He reached over and paused the movie, setting his plate aside.

“What’s wrong?” Evan asked.

Tommy swallowed hard. “I . . . I have to put in some time off with Captain Smith,” he whispered. “I’m going to New Jersey for a couple of weeks.”

Evan nodded. Tommy had told him the bare minimum, and Evan understood that it wasn’t at all something Tommy liked talking about. Still, Evan whispered, “Do you want me to come with you? I can ask Chim for some time off; I’m sure he’d be okay with it. Heck, I’m sure Hen, Eddie, and Ravi would all come too; Chim would join right in with them if I told them why.”

“Chim’s got his plate full with Robby and Jee-Jee,” Tommy whispered. “And he’s the captain. He can’t leave. I wouldn’t expect him to.”

“You know he really regretted only calling you that one time,” Evan told him, lacing his fingers through Tommy’s. “When he needed that favor for that house fire, because 9-1-1 dispatch was experiencing that technical glitch . . . he realized a year later that that had been the last time he’d spoken to you, that he hadn’t been the greatest friend to you and had only called because we needed your help. And yet you answered the call. Every time. We needed you. You came. You told me the night that Bobby died that you stole that helicopter for Chim and for me. And right now, you need us. Let the 118 return the favor.”

“But Howie doesn’t need me to dump my daddy issues on him,” Tommy protested, tears flooding his eyes that he struggled to hold back.

“You wouldn’t be dumping anything on anyone,” Evan protested. “Just let us be there for you. ‘Cause you have a family, more family than you know.”

Tommy contemplated Evan’s words. As much as he wanted to believe it, part of him still felt that he didn’t deserve to have Howie and Hen forgive him, even though he’d done all that he could to try and make things right. Still, Evan was telling him that Howie and Hen would want to be there, that Eddie and Ravi would also want to be there. But part of him was still scared, scared of that judgment, scared of being hurt, scared of longevity. He was terrified, more terrified than when he’d been trapped deep in the closet, keeping all of his repressed sexual desires and feelings sealed tight in that hypothetical cardboard box.

Still, he squeezed Evan’s hand and whispered, “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll book us whatever flight is available,” Evan whispered. “You’re not alone.”

He once again wanted to believe that. He remembered how it felt when Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell got repealed officially in 2011. Hen had been overjoyed. But he’d been terrified. Terrified because it meant he would be given the freedom to speak the truth that he was a gay man. Yet, he couldn’t even do that because it was all still so scary. And about a year or so before Bobby became captain of the 118, he’d begun dating Abby, still determined to hide.

Even though many had assured him he wasn’t alone, he still felt alone.

And as he lay in bed that night with Evan, feeling Evan’s arms wrapped around him, he could not sleep. Instead, he was kept awake by memories that seemed way too loud, memories that made him silently cry all night long until he no longer had any tears left. His father would be ashamed and disgusted if he saw this, telling him that real men do not cry.

But Tommy didn’t care anymore. He cried. He cried for the young boy who’d been hurt by the man he most admired. He cried for the young man who’d dealt with so much abuse throughout his time serving his country. He cried for the young man who’d dealt with being Gerrard’s favorite. He cried for the guy who’d been so awful to Howie because he expected that Howie would give up and leave. He cried for the man who’d been so cold to Hen, a woman whose natural instinct was to mother. He cried for all the hurt that he caused Abby. And most of all, he cried as he mourned Bobby, the shining example of how a father could be stern and strict yet loving and gentle.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 – Under His Wing

“I’ll give you the next two weeks off, Buck,” said Chim from where he sat behind his desk––Bobby’s desk. It still felt odd calling Chimney “Captain Han” or “Cap” while at work. But Chim really grew to be a great captain. And Hen was already a great second-in-command.

Nobody could replace Bobby. But they were carrying out Bobby’s legacy by ensuring that Bobby’s house remained intact. They were keeping the squad together for Bobby. And Bobby would be so proud of Harry just starting his probationary firefighter duties fresh out of the academy; between Ravi, Eddie, and Buck, Harry was in the best hands with his training. And it also helped that Chim had put in the request for Harry to be with the 118, saying that he owed it to not just Bobby, but also Athena, to keep an eye on the boy. And in a couple of years, May would be joining them, as well, insisting that they keep things in the family for Bobby. 

“Thanks, Chim,” said Buck, heaving a sigh. “Really, Tommy needs me there; I’ve never seen him like this before.”

Chimney nodded, sympathy reflecting in his gaze. “How is he holding up?”

“Honestly? He’s hardly sleeping. He’s hardly eating. I’m worried that he’s experiencing PTSD,” said Buck, heaving a sigh as he remembered Tommy not sleeping at all the night before; when he awoke, it was to Tommy crying. Tommy had cried the whole night and not slept at all, so Buck called Tommy out of work, telling Captain Smith that Tommy wasn’t feeling well and needed to start his PTO sooner than planned. Luckily, Captain Smith had been sympathetic and told Buck to pass his condolences along to Tommy.

Chimney nodded thoughtfully. “You weren’t here when Gerrard was here the first time, Buck. But it was bad. Tommy just got along to get along, doing whatever he had to. I don’t even fully know everything that has happened because he won’t talk about it. But I’m sure that it’s a lot worse than Tommy lets on.”

Buck nodded. “Should I set him up an appointment with Frank?”

“Or Dr. Copeland,” offered Chimney. “But I don’t know how much he’d be up for talking. I remember when I first tried talking to him, he pushed me away. I’m just relieved that he’s not doing that with you and that he’s allowing you to be there. You’re good for him.”

Buck sighed. “I feel I should be doing more.”

“You’re doing enough by being there. Besides, this is progress. You should’ve known him back when he was under Gerrard’s wing.” Chimney shuddered.

“How bad was it?”

“Bad. He was a completely different person. You already know Gerrard was the antithesis of everything Bobby was.”

“And Tommy told me that Gerrard was like the father he already had.” Buck nodded slowly, seeing where this was going. Granted, he was aware of the effects that PTSD had on former soldiers. He’d seen it with Eddie. He’d also seen it when he’d been with the SEALs; that was why he rang out during Hell Week, because he could not just turn his emotions off like everyone else could. He couldn’t imagine Tommy needing to be in the Army while in the closet, needing to shut away every human feeling that he ever felt and keep his mouth shut. Buck himself was lucky that by the time he tried out for the SEALs, Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell had been repealed, not that he knew he was bisexual at the time, but still.

“Couple that with being trapped in the closet, coming off two Army tours, it was bound to inflict a lot of wounds. That’s the only reason why I couldn’t bring myself to hate him even though he was so horrible toward me; I could see in his eyes that he was in pain, and I felt sorry for him,” Chimney whispered. “I don’t know how, but I could see that he was guarded and that there was something more there that he wasn’t telling anyone. He never even told me, and I’ve been friends with him for twenty years. Not even Hen knows much about him.”

“And you never bothered to know why?”

“He’d never say anything. He doesn’t like bringing up his past,” said Chimney. “But if you feel Tommy needs us there, don’t hesitate. We’ll all come with you.”

He walked into Gerrard’s office, knocking lightly on the door. “Captain Gerrard? I’m probationary firefighter Thomas Kinard. I was told to report to you for my first shift.”

Captain Gerrard looked at him critically. His gaze instantly reminded Tommy of not just his father, but also his commanding officer when he first joined the Army. It was cold like ice, but Tommy stood back ramrod straight, determined to make a good impression.

Granted, he first noticed that only white men were in the house. And seeing Gerrard, he understood. The man was clearly from the old school, at least, what Tommy’s father would consider the “old school.”

Captain Gerrard rose from his seat and moved around his desk, as slick and silent as a snake in the grass. He didn’t say anything at first, but finally said, “You served two tours in the Army, right?” His voice was gruff and grating, but Tommy could also hear that Gerrard was impressed by his military career, as short as it had been.

“Yes, sir. Once in Pakistan, the other in Saudi Arabia,” Tommy answered.

“And you’re a certified pilot, also qualifying for search and rescue, huh?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t put you in the 217, Harbor Station. That sure fits much better given your credentials,” said Gerrard. “You know, you really could’ve gone all the way with Harbor.”

“Haven’t flown since I left the Army,” said Tommy. “I’m just glad to be where they placed me. It’s no different than being in service. The uniform changes, but the principles stay the same: serve and protect.”  

Gerrard nodded. “Well, then, Kinard, I see you and I are gonna get along just fine.” He cast Tommy a smile, but there was nothing warm about it at all whatsoever. And Tommy stiffened more as he felt Gerrard draping an arm around him, though it felt like a rock was settling upon his shoulders as his chest grew tight, and he remembered all the times Buchanan had done this before. “You feel this arm, son? This is me taking you under my wing.”

***

“Kinard! My office!” barked Gerrard the moment they stepped off the ladder truck.

The call had gone well. It was the end of Tommy’s first week as a probationary firefighter. He’d been tasked with doing the heavy, daring rescues all week. Being under Gerrard’s “wing” meant getting extra attention, more praise than the others, even though they were putting in a huge bulk of the work.

So, Tommy couldn’t begin wondering why Gerrard would call him into his office. He looked over at Eli Cobb, the paramedic, who shrugged.

“You better go see what he wants, kiddo,” said Eli, patting him on the shoulder. “And I’m cooking tonight.”

Tommy nodded. In his week at the 118, he learned Eli was the best cook in the kitchen, making all the traditional Irish dishes he grew up with back in Boston. But they didn’t all eat together; typically, it was Gerrard, Tommy, and Eli who ate together while the others went off throughout the loft or needed to return to their wives and kids.

Sighing, he entered Gerrard’s office and closed the door behind him. When he faced Gerrard, he saw the man standing behind the desk with that stone-cold expression in his eyes, looking at him the way Buchanan had when he’d served in his first tour.

“What do you need, sir?”

“Just wanted to say you’ve impressed me so far, Kinard,” Gerrard said. “Not many of them do. Many of them quit within a week here ‘cause they’re too soft. But not you. There’s something different about you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Tommy said, unsure where this was headed.

“Maybe it’s the military; it’s really made you a man, the kind of man we need around this place, bring it back to the old school, what firefighting used to be before we’ve suddenly had inclusion of those who shouldn’t be in this line of work.”

“You mean like women?”

“How much does your gear weigh on average, Kinard?”

“Sixty pounds, give or take.”

“Right. Do you honestly think a woman can handle carrying those sixty pounds and also the task of dragging a grown man out of a fire? Huh? What if that man dies because the woman can’t handle all that weight? Then what happens?” Gerrard cast a critical look as if daring him to question the logic.

Tommy felt tempted to tell Gerrard to screw off, that he’d served with many brave, strong women in the Army and that sometimes women were even tougher than the men they served alongside. But he knew that Gerrard would not take well to that.

Sighing, Tommy just nodded. “I see what you’re saying, sir.”

“Good, Kinard.” Gerrard cast him one of those cold smiles. “Glad you and I are on the same page here, son.”

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” Tommy asked.

“Yes. Now, go.” Gerrard beckoned him out of his office, but as Tommy turned around to leave, he felt Gerrard’s hand slap him on the ass.

It burned, even though it had been over his turnout pants. Still, it was humiliating as he tried to hide how red his face felt, instantly reminding him of Buchanan all over again.

“You ever play football in high school, Kinard?” Gerrard asked.

Tommy swallowed before saying, “Actually, I was a hockey player. Defense. First-line. Took Don Bosco to the state championships twice. Made Varsity as a sophomore.”

“It shows, though I suspected you were a tight-end,” Gerrard commented, staring at Tommy’s ass far longer than Tommy ever felt comfortable with, and he was suddenly grateful that Gerrard hadn’t forced him to drop his pants.

Tommy’s face somehow felt hotter as he said, “Sir, I––”

“Look, son,” Gerrard said, approaching him from behind and getting so close that he was breathing down Tommy’s neck. “Not many of the men who walk through here are like you. But you? You’re something special. I chose you. So, consider it an honor that you’re mine.” He slapped Tommy on the butt again, and Tommy swallowed back his nausea, hoping that this would not escalate.

***

He'd been wrong.

It didn’t escalate beyond inappropriate touching. But it was still so humiliating.

It only got worse when Gerrard was in a bad mood.

Like right now.

Gerrard was fuming, ranting and raving. “It’s a disgrace what passes at the academy nowadays. I’m hearing we got assigned a chink as a probie! A chink, of all things to walk through these doors! It’s bad enough that we need to have the monkeys and gringas that pass through. The bright side is that all of those quit within a week. Maybe luck will be on our side, and the banana will walk out too! We’d be better off.”

Tommy did not feel comfortable hearing this. He’d never seen Gerrard this angry before, but apparently, the announcement of the new probie, Howard Han, was enough to set him off. All Tommy could do was sit there on the couch as Gerrard nursed a glass of scotch; Tommy wasn’t sure that they were allowed alcohol at the station, but Gerrard didn’t seem to care. He pounded down his scotch as he ranted and raved in fury, and all Tommy could do was sit there and nod like some damn coward because there would be no changing Gerrard’s mind, ever.

All one could do was just sit there and listen until he got it out of his system, even if it did make him extremely uncomfortable having to hear such hateful words from the man. That was the downside to being Gerrard’s favorite; he pulled you aside to rant and rave to you, not at all considering how it made you feel.

Tommy just nodded along. “Yeah, I know what you mean, sir,” he said, trying his best to sound nonchalant, to put up the act in hopes that Gerrard wouldn’t notice his discomfort.

“Glad you’re on my side in this, Kinard.” Gerrard’s hand brushed at his thigh and suddenly squeezed, and Tommy felt a sick feeling roiling inside his stomach as Gerrard’s hand went closer and closer to his crotch; he fought against the urgency to squirm away, knowing that if he displayed any discomfort, Gerrard would notice and for sure make things even worse.

“It’s good having someone like you around here. Heck, even Cobb’s gotten too soft. You’d think all these years working here with me, us together, he’d not be such a pussy. But I’m sure glad you’re not, my boy.” His hand stroked Tommy’s crotch, and Tommy could feel his member hardening as he fought the urge to leap from his seat and run.

“Ah, you like that. Didn’t take you for a queer, Kinard.”

“I’m not . . .!” Tommy stammered out, trying so hard to hide how hard he was getting, even though he did not like the touching.

“You say you aren’t, but your dick is saying otherwise, son.” Gerrard cast him a wry smile, and Tommy felt like he would actually throw up, but he couldn’t throw up, not here, not on Gerrard, because then Gerrard would be mad and would make him clean it all up on his hands and knees, and then maybe make him scrub the toilets afterward, too.

So, he just sat there and took it, even though he wanted so badly to cross his legs and get it to stop. The heaviness settled on his chest as he struggled not to cry.

His baseball bat slammed into his bedroom wall, and he let out a scream.

He’d wanted so badly to forget about that, but it all resurfaced, and he could no longer push it down like he used to be able to for so long. His face felt hot and his eyes were wet, and he couldn’t help the wailing sob that burst from him as he swung the bat at his wall over and over, his chest tight as he struggled to breathe; it hurt to breathe, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his ribcage as he wailed and raged on, taking it out on his bedroom wall.

He could hear Evan on the other side of the locked door. “Tommy, sweetheart, open the door! You’re scaring me right now!”

Tommy ignored him, his hearing suddenly feeling like it was deep underwater as he screamed again, smashing the bat against his wall and creating an even bigger hole. He could hear Evan calling for help, but he didn’t know from whom.

He continued taking all of his panic, fear, and rage out on the wall. Gerrard may have tried redeeming himself in the eyes of the 118 after that building collapse. Still, nothing could ever take away all of the humiliation he’d put Tommy through for years until Hen’s arrival.

Hen had inspired him to stand up for himself and not take it anymore.

He swung the bat again, screaming even louder as his vocal cords threatened to rip apart. He then heard more pounding on his door until finally, someone broke it down, and he felt someone touch his shoulder.

He flinched violently as he sank to the floor, sobbing in despair as he heaved until finally, vomit crawled up his throat. He felt someone shove a trash can underneath his chin as he puked up everything he’d eaten since last night, and he spat several times before thrusting the garbage can away.

He could see someone kneeling in front of him, and he was met with Howie’s kind, concerned eyes, and he knew Howie had brought Hen and Eddie with him, too.

Tommy should have known that Evan would have relayed everything going on to the rest of the 118.

“Tommy, listen to me, breathe, all right?” Howie was saying gently.

“I can’t! It hurts so bad!”

“What hurts?” Howie watched him in worry, his forehead creasing as his hands fluttered, as though he were debating whether or not he should touch Tommy.

“Everything!” Tommy felt his face crumpling underneath the weight of his tears, tears he’d never allowed himself to cry before in his life. He’d cried the night of Bobby’s death, but that had been on Evan’s behalf as he watched the man that he still loved and cared for so much break down and bawl, screaming and crying himself hoarse on the monitors while Tommy could only stand there, unable to do much except watch, feeling like their efforts to get the antiviral had been in vain. Yes, they saved Howie. But at what cost? The life of a man who was a husband and stepdad? A man who was rebuilding his house from the ground up with Athena?

“Tommy, listen,” Hen said from where she sat next to him. “You need to slow your breathing. Close your eyes.” He felt Hen taking his wrist in her hand as she checked his pulse, and he could feel Eddie grabbing his other hand and pressing it over Eddie’s heart. He could feel the steady beat as Eddie sucked in some deep breaths for him for copy.

“Feel that, man?” he heard Eddie murmuring. “Take it easy.”

Tommy nodded, sniffling as his sobs reduced. He choked out, “I’m sorry, you guys, I’m sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Hen whispered in that motherly voice of hers, which only made him yearn for his mom more.

“But I am!” Tommy opened his eyes and looked at Howie brokenly. “I was a dick twenty years ago. I was a piece of shit! All because of . . . because of my old man. And Gerrard. When I should have known better, because I was an adult! But I was just too weak! God, I fucking hate them!” He buried his face into his hands as he launched into an imitation of his father, and then Gerrard. “‘Thomas . . . you-you’ve . . . I expect you to be a real man! I won’t tolerate any faggots or babies in this family! You’re embarrassing all of us!’ ‘It’s good having someone like you around here. Heck, even Cobb’s gotten too soft. You’d think all these years working here with me, us together, he’d not be such a pussy. But I’m sure glad you’re not, my boy.’ And even when I got away . . . I . . . I had to live with that every God damn day of my whole life! And I’m so fucking sorry that . . . that you guys were . . . were collateral damage. Because neither of you deserved that. And yet, you saved my fucking worthless life, Howie!”

“Baby, come on, don’t say that,” he heard Evan pleading with him, sounding absolutely terrified.

Tommy shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel normal! Because I never was.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 – Howie

Howie had convinced Hen and Eddie to go back home while he stayed behind. He set a mug of green tea in front of Tommy, who’d managed to get over to the couch with Evan and Howie’s help.

He stared at the tea, his aching, raw throat craving something to soothe it, but he was scared he wouldn’t be able to swallow anything. He felt Howie sitting on the other side of him and could hear the 118 captain texting, but he didn’t know who. Bear stayed at his feet, solid and present, whimpering a few times; Tommy knew he'd scared the crap out of his dog, and he felt guilty. That poor thing had been through enough losing his first handler the way that he did. Bear probably thought that something would happen to his new owner, too. Tommy bent down and rubbed his hand through the dog's fur, and Bear saw that as an invitation to sit up and press his head against Tommy's lap, giving him what Tommy thought to be a look of concern in those big, ice-blue eyes. 

Howie showing up like this only made Tommy’s guilt settle in more. He could remember Howie’s first day like it was yesterday, how he’d made that stupid quip about tipping the delivery driver; it had been stupid and just plain ignorant to say that, but he'd only said it because he thought that that was what Gerrard would want to hear. Gerrard hated that Howie was there at all because Howie wasn’t the stereotypical white man that Gerrard wanted in his firehouse, and Gerrard couldn’t stand that he could not control who got placed in his house, so he did whatever he could to make the new probie so uncomfortable until that said probie quit or transferred out; it was why Tommy had been surprised that Howie kept sticking around at all even after being utilized as an underpaid janitor. While Tommy had admired Chimney's work ethic and positive attitude, deep down inside, he was waiting for the moment when Howie would give up and quit; everyone eventually did under Gerrard's thumb because Gerrard made their lives hell on earth until they could no longer take it. Everybody always left. Left him. Or Tommy ran before he could grow close to anyone, because they either spat on him for not being good enough, or they died after he grew close to them. Yet, Howie kept fighting to earn his respect and friendship, exchanging olive branches after olive branches, and all Tommy had given him in return was the cold shoulder, wanting to protect himself before he allowed himself to care for and love another young probie like a brother, only for that probie to leave him, just like all his brothers in the Army did; Tommy had watched them die, had watched them ring out, had watched them succumb to the loneliness and darkness of addiction due to the traumas of war. 

But then, something life-altering ended up happening. It had probably been the greatest thing ever. 

It had been after Gerrard saw Howie in action, racing into the department store to haul Tommy out of there, that he finally started respecting Howie; not so much respect, but it was pity, pity for the fact that Howie lost his foster brother in that apartment fire. That seemed to be Gerrard's MO: he treated you like utter garbage to see if you would break, but when you experienced loss, he suddenly felt sorry for you, and then he began letting you do the heavy-duty work. 

It made Tommy sick that Gerrard had been allowed back in after all that he’d done. And Tommy was certain Gerrard had yet to give an apology to anyone at the 118; the closest to an apology had been after Bobby’s passing. But other than that, he’d never owned what he’d done to anyone he’d wronged so many times. He'd never said sorry to Howie for Howie's loss of Kevin Lee. He'd never given Hen an apology. Tommy felt that Gerrard should first apologize to Howie and then to Hen because Tommy no longer wanted anything from Gerrard.

Maybe years ago, he’d wanted the man’s approval. But now, he no longer cared.

Gerrard could kiss his ass, as far as he was concerned.

If only he’d been strong enough back then. If only he hadn’t tried seeking that dinosaur’s approval.

But Tommy supposed it was a pattern with him. He hated Gerrard like he hated his father. Yet, he’d wanted Gerrard’s approval like he wanted approval from his father because he felt obliged, like he owed them something. His father had given him life, and Gerrard had given him the job.

It went back to the Ten Commandments of “Honor thy father and thy mother.” Tommy never realized he had such intense Catholic guilt until now.

He continued staring at the tea until, finally, he picked it up and sipped it slowly. The tea burned down his dry throat, and his throat felt like sandpaper. It both hurt and soothed, and he sipped the tea again before setting it down on the coffee table. 

Finally, he heard Howie saying, “You know there’s no shame in asking for help once in a while.”

Tommy nodded. “I thought I could handle it,” he whispered brokenly. “I handled it all those years with Gerrard. Or at least, I thought I did. I don’t know why I can’t, now.”

“We all have our breaking point, sweetheart,” Evan murmured, taking his hand and squeezing softly.

Tommy nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” he whispered. He turned to Howie, who looked at him in concern.

“You said I saved your worthless life,” Howie said. “I remember that day. You were still stuck in the building when it was about to explode. Were you not looking to be saved that day?”

Tommy closed his eyes. He remembered it so clearly; he’d known the gas lines inside the building were broken and that the whole building could burst, but he’d thought at the time, At least I’ll be with Mom. This wouldn’t be a bad way to go. But then, he could have sworn he heard his mom telling him that it wasn’t his time to go yet, and that was when he’d panicked and tried to run out of there as he smelled the fumes, just as the building exploded, and the next thing that he registered was Howie grabbing him in a fireman’s carry and hauling him out of there. Tommy had at least a good few feet on Howie and maybe another hundred pounds in terms of muscle mass, but Howie had hauled him out of there running like hell, determined to pull him out and save his sorry life.

It made him feel bad that he’d ever dismissed Howie the way he did when Howie tried to bond with him. Even though he’d been cold and selfish to try and prevent himself from getting close to another probie that would probably just end up giving up like all the others did before, Howie still tried to be his friend. It reminded him of how he still tried to get approval from Gerrard because he and Howie both had something in common.

They never gave up.

And that commonality hadn’t given Tommy much comfort, so he pushed Howie away until he realized that Howie couldn’t be pushed that easily. After all, Howie hadn’t been much of a firefighter at all. But Howie busted his ass, cleaning and doing everything right until Cobb trained him up, and Cobb training him up turned out to be the very best thing, because had Eli not done that, Tommy would be dead.

After that, he and Howie were friends.

Not best friends. But friendly acquaintances who got along and got beers together after work and liked the same movies. 

Finally, he nodded, choking out, “I thought, you know, ‘At least I’ll get to see Mom again.’ And I saw her, when I was inhaling those fumes, I saw her as I was losing consciousness just before you pulled me out.”

“I’m sorry, Tommy, I didn’t know,” Howie whispered sympathetically.

“Because I didn’t want anyone to know.” Tommy lifted his head and turned to face Howie, who continued watching him in sympathy. “I mean, come on, what was I supposed to say to you? Huh? That I'd lost enough brothers in war and in fire? That everyone always ended up leaving at one point or another, any time I tried to get close, so it was just easier for me to keep you at an arm's distance? That Gerrard chose me, and I saw that the same way as trying to earn approval from my old man? That after every shift was over, he’d pull me into his office, and he’d touch me? What would you have done? What could you have done? Huh? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 'Cause there wasn't anything that you could do that would make it better; I mean, is there any easy way to say, 'Hi, nice to meet you. By the way, our boss gives me forceful hand jobs in his office'?” He realized he’d said too much, because he clamped his mouth shut as Howie’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Wait, he touched you?” Howie sounded infuriated, and he looked like he wanted to go down to the Hotshots set and rip Gerrard’s dick off. Even Bear seemed to sense Howie's anger, because he snuggled further into Tommy; Tommy responded by burying his fingers in his dog's furry head, rubbing and scratching and trying to calm the dog down as he felt Bear tremble slightly. Bear didn't take well to people screaming in anger; it was one of the many things that triggered his PTSD. 

“It didn’t go beyond groping,” Tommy mumbled, feeling his whole face go red in embarrassment as he continued petting the dog, feeling Bear start to relax against his touch. 

“Did you ever report any of it to HR?” asked Evan, sounding so angry as he squeezed Tommy’s hand tighter.

“After Hen yelled at us, telling us to see her for exactly what she was,” Tommy whispered. “After she made that scene, Gerrard pulled me into his office and tried to take it further. But I ran before he could even think about it, and I wrote my anonymous report to HR; I kept my whole identity a secret because I could not risk them thinking that I was . . . You know? And then I started dating different women, thinking that those women would fix me. Eventually, I found Abby, and . . . God, Abby, I ended up proposing to her, and we were engaged for three months. Then Bobby asked me whether or not I was happy, and I realized I could not be in a loveless marriage to a woman because neither of us deserved that.”

“And that was also around the time you were transferring out to go to Harbor,” said Howie, clearly remembering.

“I thought that by going back to my roots, I’d find myself again,” Tommy whispered.

“And did you?” Howie asked thoughtfully.

“Not exactly.” Tommy shuddered as he remembered Captain Smith expressing concern for him; it had been five months since he’d broken up with Abby and a month since he’d moved to the 217. Captain Smith had suggested he try therapy after a call that went really, really badly, a call that left Tommy sick with guilt to this very day, because the boy that he’d lost on that call was him.

“Tommy, listen,” Dr. Welles said, taking his hands in hers as he sniffled. He’d just divulged to her as much as he could without telling her his secret, at least, that was what he hoped. He did not need this woman telling HR that he was a . . . a gay man buried so far back in the closet, he was in Narnia. But he did divulge to her some of his daddy issues. In fact, he only felt sicker to his stomach the longer he sat there on her couch.

It had been a really bad call the other day. Harbor had gone to life flight someone who’d been attempting suicide by jumping into the ocean headfirst; Tommy couldn’t get to the kid in time and found the poor boy drowning in the water, lips blue, skin so cold, and even as Tommy attempted CPR, he knew it was fruitless.

The poor boy was dead.

And his parents learned it was because he’d been closeted and had just broken up with his girlfriend; the pressure had been too much, the pressure to live up to the pretenses of being the perfect son he’d been so convinced that his parents wanted. Sergeant Grant had found the boy’s suicide note when she talked to the parents; needing to know about the shame that that poor kid had suffered for so long opened up a much deeper wound that Tommy had for sure healed many years ago after Gerrard got fired.

The parallels between Tommy and the teenage boy he failed to rescue couldn’t be clearer to him. He’d lost people on calls before. But this one felt closer to home than ever, and Captain Smith had been so worried that he suggested Tommy talk to a professional.

“I can make this all better,” she murmured, moving her fingers through his hair as he straddled his lap, and Tommy stiffened up, tears filling his eyes.

“No . . . No, I . . . please, I don’t want this!”

“Shhhh.”

Tommy wiped his eyes as he recounted it to Howie and Evan, but then Evan said, “Wait, you slept with Dr. Welles? Me too!”

“Not willingly.” Tommy shot Evan an incredulous look. “Wait, you too?”

“After I lost a kid who fell from a rollercoaster,” said Evan, heaving a sigh. “Apparently, she doesn’t work for the department anymore. I think Bobby probably reported her to HR.”

“Good. Thank God,” Tommy sighed in relief. “And even if I were straight, she’s not my type anyway. I’m into blonds.”

Evan smiled at that. “Good to know.”

“Well, I went to Rosemary after I got stabbed,” Howie suggested. “She was great. And Eddie is speaking to Frank again. He’s going with Christopher.” He pulled out a card with Frank’s contact information and handed it to Tommy, and Tommy heaved a sigh. He supposed seeing Frank wouldn’t be the worst thing. He’d heard great things about Frank.

“Thanks, Howie, I might take you up on that after I get back from Jersey,” Tommy whispered, wiping at his eyes.

“Well, I’ve gotta go,” Howie said gently. “You think you’ll be okay now?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Tommy whispered, and then realization dawned on him. “Crap, I forgot that it’s you and Maddie’s date night, Howie. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Howie said. “If you ever need any of us, you know we’ll be there. It’s the least we can do after all you’d done for us.” A knock could be heard at the front door, and Howie walked toward it. “And on that note, I thought you could use a little something to lift your spirits. And I know just the very thing because it always makes Buck feel better.”

“Howie, what are you suggesting?” Tommy asked dryly, sipping his tea again as the door swung open, revealing Maddie, Jee-Yun, and little Robby resting in his car seat.

“Uncle Tommy!” Jee-Jee ran over and threw herself into his lap, and at that, Tommy had to smile as Jee wrapped her arms around him. Bear wagged his tail in happiness at the sight of Jee, and he leaped onto the couch in Howie's place, giving Jee a very wet kiss on the cheek, and she squealed in delight, giggling. 

“Well, when you said ‘a little something,’ you didn’t mention two of the most special little somethings in the whole entire world!” Tommy felt his eyes drying instantly as Jee snuggled into him. Evan went to take baby Robby out of his car seat and also grab the baby bag, bouncing the four-month-old up and down. The baby boy giggled, giving a gummy smile.

“We’ll be back by ten,” said Maddie, grinning. 

“Jee, Robby, take care of your Uncle Tommy for us,” Howie said, grinning as Evan closed the door behind them, and Evan wasted no time in setting Robby down on the rug so that he could grab Robby’s toys and blanket to start doing tummy time, which was apparently Robby’s favorite thing right up there with Bluey and Paw Patrol.

“All right, Jee, what movie do you wanna watch?” Tommy asked. “Do you wanna watch Harry Potter, The Mighty Ducks, or Cars?” He’d listed Cars last, given that Cars was his favorite Disney film due to his love for anything monster trucks and NASCAR.

“I want all of them!” Jee exclaimed.

“What? That’s the perfect answer!” Tommy said. “But which one first?”

Jee thought about it for a moment before saying, “Quack!”

“The Mighty Ducks, it is then.” Tommy wasted no time turning on the TV and choosing his Disney+ app; he wouldn’t lie that even though Love, Actually was his favorite of all time, The Mighty Ducks trilogy was his second favorite of all time, and he was certain that that Joshua Jackson guy had been his very first celebrity crush. “And maybe, Uncle Buck will bake us some cookies!”

“Please!” Jee begged Evan, and Evan grinned.

“You know I can never say no to my favorite girl,” Evan grinned. “But what kind of cookies do you want? Chocolate chip? Peanut butter? Or snicker doodle?”

“Peanut butter!”

“My favorite,” Tommy grinned, though he suspected Jee was saying that because she’d sensed as she came through the house that he’d been sad, and she would do anything to cheer him up.

“LAFD!” Tommy pounded on the apartment door that he and Howie were outside of. It was a call from a worried neighbor, saying that they had heard signs of severe emotional distress within the apartment and that someone should check it out. Tommy and Howie had been ordered to leave the scene of the apartment fire they’d been at with Gerrard, Sal, and Eli, as they were nearest to this location, and Howie was the second-best EMT in the 118.

It had been three years since Howie came in. Tommy didn’t think Howie would stick around, that Howie would up and quit like all the other probies, but Howie surprised Tommy in more ways than one. Not only did Howie stick around, but he’d saved Tommy’s life.

Tommy would forever be indebted to Howie, even though he’d initially not have minded dying in that explosion.

Sighing, Tommy said, “We’ve gotta do the ram.”

“Can I?” Howie asked; he was almost never allowed to do any of the cool stuff.

Tommy sighed. “Sure.”

Howie nodded with enthusiasm and ran to grab the ram. When he returned with it, he slammed it hard against the door until it came off its hinges.

“Nice,” Tommy commented, and they walked into the apartment together, which otherwise looked bare aside from a few photos, and Tommy recognized the kid in the photos, the same nineteen-year-old kid who’d come to the 118 after finishing his time at the academy, only to be dismissed too many times by Gerrard throughout his first two weeks, and he ended up quitting altogether.

Tommy’s stomach dropped as he whispered, “Oh, God, it’s Emilio!”

“Wait, the same Emilio who quit a year ago?” Howie asked, this time looking very worried. Howie was one of the only ones to be kind to Emilio when he started. On the other hand, Tommy was still closed off, not trusting others too well; he just found it hard to click with people. Heck, he and Howie probably met for beers occasionally and were friendly, but he was still hesitant to let Howie in. He was still trying to learn to trust Sal, who seemed all right, maybe a little hotheaded and the type to tease in a way that was insensitive, but not terrible, either.

Tommy shook his head. “And nobody ever thought to check in on him and see if he was all right.” Tommy picked up the framed photograph, which showed the kid with his parents and sisters, and it made him think of his own siblings back home in Jersey, how he’d left them when he left for LA. He set the frame down on the table before calling out, “Emilio! It’s Tommy and Howie! Everything all right, kid?”

“Emilio! Answer us, buddy!” Howie said, heaving his med kit through the hallway as they wandered through the apartment, looking for any signs of the kid. When they saw that the bathroom door was open but the bedroom door was shut, Tommy tried the handle on it, only to feel that it was locked. With that, he slammed his shoulder against the door several times, and the door fell from the hinges. Only what he saw when he and Howie entered the room made him wish he’d skipped breakfast that morning.

The kid was hanging in his closet, his face white and lips blue from lack of oxygen. Emilio had looped a belt around his neck and just hung there listlessly, swinging back and forth. Tommy could also see empty pill bottles on the ground.

“Oh, God!” He raced over to the kid and, with shaking hands, got Emilio down, unlooping the belt from around the kid’s neck and laying him flat on the ground. He felt for Emilio’s pulse, only to feel nothing. “No pulse.” He immediately began compressions while Howie got the oxygen mask over Emilio’s mouth and nose, pumping him full of air, but it was no use. Tommy could feel nothing, no matter how many compressions he did on the boy, but still, he kept it up, because he had to save this kid.

“Tommy, Tommy, he’s gone,” Howie whispered.

Tommy stopped compressions briefly before whispering, “No, he can’t be! There’s gotta be something we can do!”

“Tommy,” Howie whispered. “There’s no bringing him back.”

Tommy shook his head before glancing down at Emilio’s pale face, and he shakily rose to his feet, feeling an overwhelming nausea as he noticed the bed was neatly made and that there was a folded-up note on the bed. He opened it and began to read:

To whoever may find this,

I tried—really did—so hard, but it didn’t matter in the end. I thought I could be something, but I couldn’t even last two weeks as a firefighter. My captain put me on crapper duty, and he never let me DO anything. He made me their personal delivery boy, said that it shouldn’t be much different than what I’d probably done before.

Whatever that means.

I never should have tried.

I don’t know why Gerrard hated me so much. I thought maybe he’d found out what I was. Or maybe, he hated me because I wasn’t white. Whatever it was, I knew that I couldn’t be a firefighter because HE told me that maybe I wasn’t cut out for it.

He was right.

I’m sorry, Mama, Papi, Esmeralda, Valentina, and Sarah. I know that I wasn’t the son or brother you may have wanted. But I thought I could be the firefighter who could make a difference.

I was wrong.

Goodbye.

Tommy closed his eyes; the words in the middle of the letter about Gerrard “finding out who Emilio was” caused his throat to tighten up; this kid had not only been Mexican-American, something that Gerrard absolutely despised, but he’d been gay on top of that and from the looks of it, strained from his parents and sisters. Tommy shoved a fist over his mouth as tears threatened to brim his eyes; he could not cry, not here; he had to be professional, had to be tough; he knew what Gerrard would say if he saw him like this . . .

He felt Howie lean a hand onto his shoulder gently.

“I already called the coroner,” Howie murmured.

Tommy nodded, folding up the note so that nobody else would read it. He didn’t want Emilio’s privacy invaded more than it already was. Still, he buried his face in his hands as he felt physically sick, and it took him everything not to throw up.

“Do you wanna talk?” Howie whispered.

“No.” Tommy shook his head. “No, I don’t. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Well, I’m here. Just know that. I’m not leaving. You’re stuck with me.”

Howie’s words echoed in his ear as he sat up in bed, waking from the memory. For once, while it was a memory that held a great deal of sadness, it reminded him of something: Howie had always been there, even when Tommy had tried shoving him away, Howie stayed and knew how to be there even when Tommy didn’t feel comfortable talking about anything. Howie expressed more sensitivity and sympathy than Sal ever could manage to, and it was because of Howie that Tommy slowly let his defenses down bit by bit, albeit far too slowly. Still, Howie had, over time, helped shape him into being more open, more honest.

Rising from his bed, he saw that it was after midnight. He hoped Howie was still awake as he reached for his cell phone and stepped out into the living room. He selected Howie’s number from his contacts and pressed the phone to his ear, and Howie picked up the call.

“Tommy?” Howie asked groggily.

“Howie,” Tommy whispered, “thank you.”

Howie paused momentarily before saying, “What for?”

“For being there and never giving up.”

“Anytime. What are friends for?”

Tommy hummed before saying, “Would you, Hen, and Eddie come to Jersey with me and Evan? I . . . I don’t know if I could go there alone.”

“You don’t even have to ask. We’ll be there.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 – Hen

“Kinard, my office!”

Gerrard’s words burned. Whenever Gerrard called him into his office to make assessments of the team’s performance, it was never good. Those were the times Gerrard would touch him. It was even worse than when they were sitting around the dinner table, with Gerrard touching his thighs. Tommy didn’t know how he’d been hiding this from Howie for so long. Howie, initially, did not sit with them; he sat on the outside looking in during his first months as a probie, until Cobb took him under his wing and after Howie saved Tommy’s sorry ass, Tommy began having Howie eat at the table with them.

In Howie’s defense, he didn’t notice anything. But Tommy sensed Howie could sense something was wrong with him.

Even Hen could see it.

Hell, she probably put two and two together when Sal made that stupid joke about Tommy being a “Team Jacob” kind of guy when Tommy admitted he didn’t care for Kristen Stewart due to how stoic she was. Howie telling Tommy that Sal was making a gay joke was when Tommy knew he needed to hide more, retreat into the shell he’d built around himself, and he’d made the kissy face at Sal because with Sal, you needed to tease the guy right back and not let it hint that it bothered you, otherwise, he would bust your balls even more.

Tommy would never tell Sal that it hurt. Besides, he liked Sal, despite Sal being a dick at times. Sal was a good partner and a good firefighter, and in a fire, he had Tommy’s back, even though he did make a lot of jokes at Tommy’s expense.

But Sal teased everybody. He made fun of Howie all the time, and as a result, Howie would tease Sal back. Sal even made fun of Gerrard behind Gerrard’s back, claiming the man had a stick up his ass so big, he would shit woodchips. Tommy tried his best to take the teasing in stride. Heck, he’d even begun dating various women to get Sal off his back so that the guy would just shut up. He didn’t think Sal was homophobic; Sal was just an idiot. The guy didn’t do dick moves like refuse to care for a victim who was gay and he could handle watching movies and shows with gay characters because he never once made a comment about it when he did see it; the guy’s favorite movie was Brokeback Mountain, for crying out loud! But he loved to joke at inopportune times.

The “Team Jacob” comment was one of his many inopportune joking moments. The guy was tone deaf when it came to reading the room. But you had to laugh along with him and just accept that he had that kind of sense of humor. But Tommy knew Hen didn’t like it, and he couldn’t blame her; she was the lone woman in a group of men. So for Sal to single her out, Tommy could imagine that even a thick-skinned woman like Henrietta Wilson could only take so much.

Still, Tommy was frightened of Hen. He knew what she was, even though she didn’t say it. They were still in the time of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. If no one asked, you said nothing. And Hen didn’t volunteer that she was a lesbian.

Until she screamed it out to everyone, demanding that they see her for exactly what she was: a woman who was black and lesbian.

He’d never seen anyone be so fearless.

And that terrified him even more. Gerrard was really gonna have it in for Henrietta Wilson now.

Tommy almost felt like telling her, “Well, Hen, you’ve had a good run. It was nice knowing you while you lasted.” But as he followed Gerrard into his office, he felt the dread settle into his stomach like a rock.

Hen had made a good call tonight.

The best call. A call that even Tommy couldn’t see coming.

If Hen hadn't broken free from them and gone searching for that car submerged in the water, that little boy would be dead. Yet, she trusted her gut and saved that boy before it was too late. 

He’d underestimated her. That had been his biggest mistake, and he was a fool and a dumbass. And he knew Sal agreed with him that they’d both been stupid to underestimate Henrietta Wilson. They'd shared silent looks of agreement on the way back to the station, seeming to silently make a pact that they were going to file complaints against Gerrard. Because even though Sal was a Neanderthal with a sick sense of humor to match, he could recognize when something was unfair. He wasn't that dense. 

Sighing, he walked into Gerrard’s office and sat in the chair in front of the desk; Gerrard had to do the paperwork, and he’d want Tommy’s opinion, not that he cared to hear it either way. Another responsibility that came with being Gerrard’s favorite.

When they got to Hen’s assessment, Tommy said, “She made the right call.”

Gerrard looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really, Kinard?”

“She did,” Tommy repeated firmly. “Hen was right. We were all wrong. Suck it up, Cap. Admit it. She’s more than qualified for this. If she hadn't gone searching for that car on her own tonight, there would've been far more casualties. We all should've been sweeping those woods to look for those people.”

“Remember what I asked you years ago when you were a probie?”

“About women being less capable because they’re women?” Tommy gritted out, clenching his teeth. “Sir, with all due respect, that is ridiculous. Because Hen’s proven otherwise. Sure, she made a mistake during her first shift with us, but is that really something to punish her over? We've all lost people on calls. Why should she be any different from us? I’ve worked with many capable women on the battlefield who have had my back more times than I can count, and I would trust Henrietta to have my back ten times over. If they can do this job and they choose this life, who am I to say that they don’t belong in this profession?”

Gerrard sneered at him. “I never thought you’d let me down, Kinard. I knew you were a queer. But I didn’t think you’d turn soft.”

Tommy glared back at him. “I am not gay!” he denied vehemently, the words feeling like poison in his mouth, but he hoped that by saying the words, they’d come true, because he didn’t want to be. “I’ve got a girlfriend!” It was a lie. He wasn’t dating anyone currently. But he hoped that saying he had a girlfriend would finally get Gerrard to stop touching him. He said it with so much vigor that he almost believed it himself. He could almost visualize a tall, blonde woman to whom he would come home.

“How come we never met this girlfriend?”

“Because it is none of your fucking business who I sleep with and who I spend time with! Stay out of my business and stop questioning everything! Why does it matter to you, anyway? Unless you’ve got something to hide and you’re projecting that onto me, Howie, and Hen because you can’t handle being in the same room as someone who is different from you!” Tommy jumped to his feet and made his way to the door, only for Gerrard to snatch him by the back of his shirt collar so roughly, he choked, and Gerrard spun him around, forcing Tommy down onto his knees before dragging Tommy behind the desk. Tommy watched with a sick feeling rolling through his gut as Gerrard undid his pants and was about to drop his boxers. Before Gerrard could even think about it, Tommy fiercely reached out and punched him right in the groin, causing the captain to double over. And Tommy bolted out of there before Gerrard could say or do anything.

He raced to the locker room, opened his locker, and pulled out a notebook, hastily writing what would be his report to the chief.

To Chief Alonzo and the Los Angeles Fire Department Human Resources,

I must keep my identity anonymous, but I am reporting over a decade of abuse from 118 fire captain, Vincent Gerrard.

Captain Gerrard singled me out as his favorite. But being his favorite came with conditions. At the end of my first week, he smacked me on the butt and made suggestive comments regarding my potential sexual orientation, which I haven’t disclosed with anyone because I am not certain what I am. And when Firefighter/Paramedic Howard Han joined the 118, Captain Gerrard made him work as an underpaid janitor, not allowing him to do the job that he trained to do, even though Firefighter Han had all the credentials and training to back it up.

But Captain Gerrard’s behavior has recently taken a turn for the worse. Henrietta Wilson has been facing severe mistreatment from him ever since she joined, and he singled her out because she’s not only a woman, but she’s black and she’s a lesbian. When I dared to speak out and call him out on his unfair behavior, he snatched me by the back of my shirt, forced me onto my knees behind his desk, and dropped his pants to make me give him oral sex. 

I punched him in the crotch before he could go any further than that.

This isn’t the first time he’s touched me like this. When Firefighter Han joined the firehouse, Captain Gerrard grabbed my crotch as I sat next to him on the couch, watching him drink when we finished a call. It had always been nothing more than grabbing me inappropriately, but this was the very first instance where it nearly escalated to him assaulting me. He has also made inappropriate gestures toward Firefighter Wilson; I've watched him lean over to take a peek at her backside as she scrubbed the ladder truck; I've watched him stare at her breasts, acting surprised that a firefighter or paramedic could be a woman. 

I never said anything because I was afraid of the repercussions. I was scared that if I did say anything, he'd piece together that it was me and that his gestures would eventually escalate to rape. But Firefighter Wilson stood her ground and proved to all of us that she belonged here, and I'm proud to say that she gave me the courage to speak up. She's an exceptional firefighter and an amazing paramedic. Tonight, she made the right call; she trusted her gut and did a sweep, searching for a car that went underwater after hitting the limousine. If she had not done that sweep with Firefighter Han, that little boy would have died tonight. She did what we were all afraid to do, and I would trust her with my life.  

Again, I won’t disclose who I am. But I hope that you take my word into consideration.

Sincerely,

Anonymous 118 Firefighter

“Tommy?”

He was startled from his thoughts by Hen’s voice. He’d almost forgotten they were waiting for their plane in the airport terminal.

He looked down at his watch; their flight, of course, had gotten delayed because Newark Airport’s systems were so outdated. It had gotten pushed back another two hours. That meant they had more time to wait.

He looked at Hen. She’d gotten him a coffee. He took it and sipped it, pleased that it was his usual order.

“Thanks,” he said as she sat beside him. Evan had left to find them some food, and Howie called Maddie to let her know about the delayed flight. Eddie had excused himself to go and find the men’s room.

Finally, he said, “I need to apologize.”

“For what?” Hen looked at him in confusion.

“For the way I acted back then.”

“Tommy, I told you that you have nothing to apologize for. I deep down always knew that you were one of the ones who filed a report against Gerrard on my behalf.”

“But nobody knew I did,” Tommy whispered. “I wrote an anonymous letter reporting him after that call, because he called me into his office that night and . . . and when I spoke up saying you’d done the right thing, he yanked me by the collar of my shirt, forced me on my knees behind his desk, and . . . and almost . . .” He closed his eyes, shuddering. “I punched him in the dick before he could try anything.”

He felt a warm hand leaning on his arm, and heard Hen whispering, “That wasn’t the first time he’d done it?”

Tommy shook his head. “It hadn’t ever gotten that far. It was mostly just groping and comments. Nothing else. I never did anything about it. I took it. I went along to get along because I knew if I didn’t, things would get worse. And it's not because he's gay; for him, it was always about power; he did it because he could and knew he'd get away with it because I was too damn scared to do anything. But when you outed yourself to everyone, you . . . you scared me so much, but you also gave me courage. It made me wish I could be braver, like you were.”

“How long?” Hen asked.

“What?”

“How long did you know?”

“That I was gay? I knew since I was fifteen, when I had a crush on the Varsity hockey captain. But I never said a word. I denied it over and over because I knew my father would hate it. And when I joined the Army, it was like my commanding officer knew; he’d do to me exactly what Gerrard would do. And I was so disgusted with myself, I kept hiding it. I’d begun dating Abby a little bit before Bobby became captain.”

“Yeah, I remember you talking about her,” Hen said thoughtfully. “But were you ever happy with her?”

“She made me feel safe. And yeah, the sex was amazing. But I did not feel happy. And then I fucked up by proposing to her after two years of dating. And then, when Bobby recommended that I get transferred to the 217, he pulled me into his office and asked me, ‘Are you happy?’” Tears filled his eyes as he remembered what Bobby asked him, how Bobby spoke to him with so much kindness and love and gentleness, more than he thought he deserved at that point, because he’d spent so many years punishing himself. “I told him I wasn’t. And he just looked at me. He knew. But he didn’t say it. He only told me that whenever I was ready for whatever it was, he was still there if I ever wanted to talk.”

“Did you ever take him up on that?” asked Hen.

Tommy nodded. “It was after Maddie and Howie’s wedding. He took me to lunch and asked me if I was happy. I told him, yeah, I was, and he said, ‘Then there’s nothing more to talk about, Tommy. You’re good people. You’re good for Buck.’ I asked him how he knew that, and he reminded me of that night that I saved his life, when I yanked him away from that collapsing nursery room floor during that house fire; I was shocked because at the time, he’d been pissed that I’d saved him.”

Hen looked at him in confusion. “Why would he have been mad at you for saving him that night?”

“He told me about that little black book,” Tommy said, Bobby’s words from that lunch haunting him.

Hen nodded. “I see.”

“I couldn’t believe it,” Tommy said. “But then he smiled at me and said, ‘Thank you.’ So, when I saw on the monitors that he’d been infected, that he was dying, I didn’t know what to feel. I was devastated for Evan because I couldn’t go in there and hold him like I wanted. I was furious with Bobby because he’d told me during that lunch we went to that he wasn’t suicidal anymore, that he was okay, that he was happy, and I felt like he’d been lying to me about that the whole time.” He closed his eyes, clenching his fists tightly as tears threatened to fill his eyes; he’d thought he’d cried all his tears away the night that Bobby died, but it turned out that he still had many more within him. “I miss him. He showed me that a father is supposed to be kind. My dad had never been that way with me. Gerrard had been even worse.” He opened his eyes, staring up at the televisions announcing various flights coming in and out of LAX.

Hen nodded again, but then she noticed the plane ticket in his hand. “New Jersey, but then it’s going to Minnesota?”

“Evan suggested that after I finish things up, we go visit Bobby. All of us. Together.”

Hen smiled. “I think that’s wonderful.”

The flight had been long and arduous. They’d stopped once in Ohio and got on the second flight until they finally landed in Newark. Looking at the gray, brick buildings and the heavy, cloudy sky, Tommy could recognize so many things about the city: the Prudential Center, home of his New Jersey Devils. The churches. The bodegas.

They boarded a shuttle that would take them from Newark to Paterson. But before they could board the bus, Tommy stopped at a bagel shop and got everyone breakfast. He figured he might as well give the 118 a taste of New Jersey.

Buck unwrapped his bagel and saw the meat hanging out of the back of the bagel. “Pork roll?” Tommy sometimes forgot that Evan was from Hershey; of course, he’d know Taylor Ham. Given Hershey's proximity to South Jersey, he'd probably grown up with it.

“Yes,” Tommy said. “One of the only things I miss about New Jersey. Along with people who pump your gas. The shore. Jewish delis. The Devils. Good Italian restaurants. And gravy fries.” He bit into the Taylor ham and cheese, savoring the taste; it had the right amount of ketchup on it. It tasted like home. Like the sandwiches they served in his elementary school cafeteria. “You can’t get this in California.”

“Wait, people pump your gas for you out here?” asked Eddie.

“It’s the only state in America that does it,” Tommy said.

“Wow!” Howie said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I could never picture it.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Evan, biting into his own sandwich. But as he looked at the Prudential Center not far away, he commented, “I’m in enemy territory right now. I don’t belong here.”

“I sometimes forget you’re a Flyers and Eagles fan,” commented Tommy dryly.

“You didn’t realize I can’t stand basketball, either. But at least we both hate the Rangers.”

“Touche, baby. But I promise, the next date we go on will be a Kings game. Or, we could drive down to Orange County for a Ducks game.”

He watched as Evan smiled blushingly at that, and Tommy couldn’t help smiling at the smear of ketchup at the corner of Evan’s mouth. He felt tempted to grab a napkin and wipe it away, or maybe kiss it away, but he wasn’t the most comfortable with PDA, and neither was Evan; if they were to kiss, it was in privacy, which Tommy was grateful for.

By the time they finished breakfast, they boarded the shuttle bus for Paterson. Luckily, the bus took them straight there, and they didn’t need to make any stops. By the time the bus stopped in Paterson, they were a good walking distance away from the hospital.

“Stay together; this place is the ghetto,” Tommy commented as they walked through the streets. He kept his eyes open, noticing a couple of homeless people smoking marijuana and several others flicking cigarette butts on the pavement.

“Huge understatement. This is worse than Philly,” Evan said as he laced his hand through Tommy’s, and Tommy squeezed gently as they entered the hospital’s waiting room. But the minute they walked in, he saw a familiar face.

“Tommy.” His sister looked the way he remembered; she took after their mom: blonde waves and blue eyes. Tommy found himself thankful every day that he, too, shared their mom’s blue eyes. He didn’t think he could handle having his father’s cold gray ones.

“Katie.” He walked over, unsure of what to do, given how many years had gone by since he’d seen her last. But Katie closed the gap by hugging him lightly, and he awkwardly returned her embrace. “Where’s Drew?”

“In the room with him,” Katie whispered. “Drew and I haven’t talked to him since we moved out.”

“What’s his condition?” Tommy asked.

Katie’s eyes filled with tears. “Kidney failure. And stage four liver cancer. All his days of drinking caught up to him. But initially, he’d gotten placed in the hospital because of a heart attack.”

“And he didn’t go to a doctor?” Tommy demanded.

“You know him, Tommy. Dad’s the type who believes seeing doctors is for the weak. And he hated his regular doctor.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. Of course, his dad wouldn’t go to the doctor for anything. The man was old school and stubborn as a mule. He was the type who would rather suffer through a sickness to display how strong he was rather than get medicine to feel better.

“Why am I not shocked?” Tommy whispered.

“I know. That’s what I thought when I got the call.” Katie wiped at her eyes, and Tommy felt the urgency to hug her again. “Tommy, I don’t know what we should do. How can we make this choice for a man whom we haven’t spoken to in almost two decades?”

“Honestly, Katie, I don’t know. Ever since I got the call, I thought about it the whole time.”

“I heard about the wildfires,” Katie whispered. “I thought I saw you on TV.”

“We were spread thin.”

“I can imagine. I could never do what you do.”

“Not many can,” Tommy agreed, hugging her again.

Katie tightened the embrace slightly before pulling back, noticing the rest of the 118 behind Tommy.

“Oh, um, Katie, this is Evan, Eddie, Hen, and Howie. I worked with Hen and Howie when they were probationary,” Tommy explained, gesturing to the others. “This is Katie, my sister.”

“Hi,” Katie said. She turned to Evan and said, “Um, I saw that story about a firefighter being trapped under a ladder truck. That was you, right?”

Evan nodded. “Yeah, that was me.”

Katie smiled slightly at that. “So, yeah, I already know all your names. Tommy and I may not have been speaking, but I would always watch the news. I just knew it was the only way I could keep up with what he was doing.”

Evan smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, and your brother and I . . . we’re kinda dating. Well, we were, but then we broke up, and now we’re, well, we haven’t decided yet.”

Katie’s smile widened slightly as she looked at her brother. “I’m happy for you.”

“Dad would flip if he heard I’m dating a guy,” Tommy said.

“I know. But he’s an idiot. His closed-mindedness put him here.” Katie’s smile dropped. “Gosh, am I a horrible person for saying that?”

“I don’t think any of us know what to feel,” Tommy assured her gently. “Besides, you remember how Mom would nag him when we were younger; she was sick and dying, and whenever he would complain that he wasn’t feeling well, she always told him to go to the doctor, stop drinking, you know, the usual. And he would always complain that she didn’t care about him when in fact she did care because she was giving him the answer.”  

Katie nodded in sad agreement. “He was looking for sympathy when he was doing it to himself. I think that’s what I have a hard time with.”

“Me too.”

Katie took his hand and squeezed it softly. “Do you wanna see him? Alone?”

Tommy nodded. “Yeah.”

“Come on.” Katie led him down the hallway until they were in the ICU, and they stopped outside Thomas Kinard Sr.’s room. Tommy could see Drew sitting at their dad’s bedside along with a young lady whom Tommy knew for a fact was his niece, Elektra, or “Lexi” as Katie referred to her. Tommy could hardly recognize his father. The man was gaunt and white, with shadows under his eyes; he was hooked up to so many machines, and Tommy had serious doubts that the man could hear them even if they spoke to him.

Katie opened the door and beckoned Tommy inside, and Drew stood up, along with Lexi. His gray eyes widened as he noticed his baby brother. Lexi looked at him in surprise, her eyebrows shooting upward; she looked just like her mother, soft blonde hair, angular features, and soft blue eyes. Tommy could feel his heart flutter in his chest as he took his niece in; the last he’d seen of her, she’d been a baby. And now, Elektra Rose was no longer a baby, but a gorgeous young woman, and he could feel his throat constrict as he took her in, hardly able to believe it.

“Hey, big brother,” Tommy said.

“It’s been a while,” Drew said gently.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“You had to do what was best for you. I hope that you’re happy, wherever you are.”

“Thank you.” Tommy turned to Lexi, who looked at him with wide eyes. “Hi.” He extended his hand to shake hers.

Lexi blinked tears out of her eyes as she whispered, “Mom talks about you all the time.” Her face crumpled as she choked out, “Why’d you leave?”

“I was selfish and stupid,” Tommy told her, taking her hand before he reached into his pocket for his wallet. He flicked it open and pulled out a faded photograph of a small, blonde baby girl sleeping in a bassinet. “But I carried you everywhere with me,” he added, showing her the photograph. “And I’m here to stay now. And, if your mom would be all right with it, I’d . . . I’d like to buy you a round-trip ticket to LA so you can see what I do for a living; that way, we can get to know each other.”

Lexi nodded. “I’d love that,” she whispered. Tommy contemplated kissing her on the forehead, but resisted it, not quite sure how Lexi would take it.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee. Come on, Lex.” Drew passed Tommy with a squeeze on his shoulder, guiding Lexi out of the room. “You want anything?” he added to Tommy.

“No, thank you.” Tommy slowly sat down in the vacant chair beside his father’s bedside, watching as the man breathed with the assistance of tubes. He noticed the dialysis machine, the heart monitors, the catheter, the wiring monitoring his dad’s brain activity; it was all so much, too much to take in.

It was more overwhelming than he thought it would be. His chest tightened as tears threatened to fill his eyes, and he choked out, “Hey, it’s me. Look, I don’t know if you can hear me right now. But I am not sorry for being what I am. And I am not sorry for joining the Army and becoming a firefighter. Because I did those things for me. Not for you.”

He swallowed hard, feeling the tears spill. “But I wanted it to be for you. I wanted to be the son that you wanted. I tried to do everything right. But nothing I ever did was good enough for you! Why? What did you want me to be? Huh? Tell me. Why was I always such a disappointment to you?” A sob burst past his lips, and then he choked out, “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. ‘Cause you always said it made me weak. But . . . But I don’t know what else to do.” He buried his face into his hands as he sobbed as quietly as he could, feeling his body tremble under the weight of his crushing sadness that overwhelmed him. “I tried. I never complained. Took it all. I . . . my first fire captain, he was like you, just like you, worse even, and I endured him touching me, and yelling at me, and I walked through fire and I practically broke my back and I put up with things that nobody out there is equipped to put up with, because I was looking for your approval, wanting to prove to you that I could take it, that I wasn’t a bitch or a pussy, and none of it was worth it because nothing I ever do will ever be enough for you!” His voice rose to a shout, and another miserable sob broke free as the trembling of his body grew worse. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle hand on his back, and he quickly bolted upright, seeing Hen standing there beside him with a look of gentle sympathy.

“Where you are right now, I was there seven years ago,” she said. “My father was in the hospital. I hadn’t seen him since he walked out on me when I was nine. And I had to make the same decision that you have to make.”

“What’d you do?” Tommy asked her, wiping his face.

“I chose to end his suffering,” Hen whispered. “And I think you know what you should do. Because is it worth him lying here for the rest of his life with machines keeping him alive?”

Tommy shook his head. “No. It isn’t.”

“Then you know what needs to be done.” Hen rubbed his back soothingly, and Tommy found himself burrowing into her, tucking his head into her chest as her arms wrapped around him, her long nails running through his hair gently. It was that quiet sort of kindness that reminded him of how easy it had been to grow to love Hen, even if he had been cold to her at first. She could thaw any kind of ice around anyone’s heart because she was just naturally kind, and she’d continued being kind to him even though he’d treated her like shit when they first met.

It took him back to a moment they shared; she’d been one of the first to realize that he was gay, but she never said anything, even when DADT got repealed.

She’d allowed him the chance to discover that on his own terms.

Tommy sat on his couch, nursing a beer from one of his favorite breweries.

Hen had texted him the good news. But he was torn between celebrating it and crying over it.

On one hand, it meant that he could finally say the truth he’d been denying all this time: that he was . . . was a . . .

But on the other hand, he was still so scared. Scared of being judged. Scared of being hurt. Scared of saying the truth because his time in the Army meant something. It meant that you weren’t allowed to talk about it.

You did not talk about it if you were not asked. And nobody ever asked.

Hen, thankfully, never asked. But she seemed to understand in ways that nobody else did. It was her own quiet form of understanding, something that he felt thankful for.

He ran his finger along the rim of the top of the bottle before taking a sip of the dark stout, a far heavier beer than he typically went for. But after hearing the news about DADT being repealed, he wanted to drink.

Before he could sip, though, he heard a quiet knock on his door, and he walked over to open it. He saw Hen, and she looked happy, but he could also see that she looked worried for him.

“Hey,” he said. “Want a beer?”

Hen nodded, stepping inside his house and taking a seat on the sofa, like she’d done a few times already since he started inviting her to hang out with him and Sal. He grabbed her a stout and handed it to her before he sat down.

“How does Karen feel about it getting repealed?” he asked.

“She’s thrilled,” said Hen. “But she’s also sad about all the things she wished she could have done all these years.”

Tommy closed his eyes, trying his hardest not to think of Buchanan. But it was difficult not to, because that part of his life was tainted with so many mixed feelings. He’d done what he could to shove all his feelings in a box. And he’d seen how DADT destroyed so many lives.

“I had a friend who couldn’t keep it under wraps,” he admitted. “I was in my fourth month in Pakistan. Somebody walked in on her and another woman we were serving with kissing in the showers; they both ended up getting dishonorably discharged, even though this woman saved so many lives and had been talked about potentially getting a silver star. Instead, she got a ruined career and ended up going back home, abusing prescription drugs. Last I heard, she died of an overdose.”

Hen winced sympathetically and took his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

Tommy could feel his eyes burning, but remembered his dad’s words about keeping a stiff upper lip and not allowing anyone to see him cry. “I’m-I . . . I don’t know.”

Hen squeezed his hand tighter. “When you figure it out, don’t worry about it. Whatever it is that you are, I want to see you happy.”

“I want to be,” Tommy choked out. “I haven’t been happy in a really long time.”

“With time, you will be. But it’ll only happen when you’re ready.”

She didn’t say the words “You’re gay” or anything like that, but it was a silent communication of the words “I know” and “It’ll be okay.” Tommy sank back against the couch, wanting to believe her.

He just didn’t know if he could yet.

Driving through his old hometown in a rental car was surreal. He hadn’t been back here since his days at the academy, and even then, he’d quickly packed his bags and left for LA. He pointed it out to Evan as he drove past his old high school.

“That’s Don Bosco,” he said, pointing at the large Catholic all-boys preparatory school he’d attended all four years. “Played hockey and baseball throughout all four years. I made Varsity for baseball my freshman year. We creamed Bergen Catholic the year I joined the baseball team.”

Evan nodded. “I could see you as a hockey player. Though looking at you, I thought you played football.”

“Did you?”

“I played tight end.”

“Mmh,” Tommy hummed, lacing his fingers through Evan’s hand. “I could see that, actually.”

Evan smiled blushingly as Tommy continued to drive. Finally, they turned a corner onto the street where Tommy’s father’s house was. He’d asked the other 118ers to join him in going to his father’s house so that he could look through his dad’s possessions and see if there was anything of value in there, not that Thomas Sr. kept a will for any valuables, even if he did have any valuables.

As they pulled up in front of Tommy’s childhood house, Tommy felt the rise of anxiety climb up into his chest, especially as they all went inside. He’d been given the key by Katie, who’d already been to the house to collect some of her old things that had gotten left behind during the move. When he walked into the house, he saw it all looked the same: the beige walls, the carpets, the clutter in the living room, the faint smell of cigar smoke, the fireplace. It felt strange walking in there, because while it looked familiar, something still felt different.

He hesitantly climbed the stairs to where his old bedroom was, and when he opened the door, it looked the way he’d left it: the old, faded, red quilt draped over the bed, the wooden furniture, his desk which held his ancient computer, and surprisingly, all of his sports awards, such as photos of him when he won the state championships for ice hockey, his Muy Thai medals, his Little League trophies, his Peewee hockey trophies, his old jerseys, his old hockey stick, his old baseball bat, his signed Martin Brodeur jersey that he’d gotten from Drew as a sixteenth birthday gift, the signed Babe Ruth baseball his mother had given him for his fourth birthday.

“He kept it all,” he whispered numbly. “I didn’t think he cared enough to.” He walked over to one photo that stood out to him the most: his high school graduation photo. He could also see a newspaper clipping about his state championship in ice hockey, as well as his acceptance letters for USC, Harvard, and Princeton, all three schools representing the possibility of what could have been had he chosen a more traditional path for a college education. But then another thing caught his eye: a grainy photograph of Tommy in his firefighter turnouts shortly after he’d gone to the 118, a photo of him carrying a baby out of a burning apartment building. That had been his very first rescue.

And his dad somehow knew about that? How had he gotten hold of that article?

“He knew, this whole time,” he murmured.

He felt Evan wrapping his arms around his waist. “He wouldn’t have kept all this if he weren’t proud of you,” Evan said gently before kissing him on the back of the neck.

“He never said it. The whole time, I thought I made my own dad ashamed of me,” Tommy whispered shakily. “All this time, he could’ve reached out. But he never did.”

“Neither did you,” said Hen as she moved to stand next to him, grabbing his hand. “Do you want to keep any of this?”

Tommy nodded. He reached for the Brodeur jersey as well as his stick, a few of his trophies, his medals, and some important documents such as his high school diploma.

“You know, I was surprised that my dad kept anything at all that reminded him of me, that he knew about me being a paramedic,” Hen whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “It made me realize he did love me, even though he was never there.”

“I wonder if my dad felt the same way,” Tommy whispered through a constricted throat.

“I think he did,” Eddie said, peering over Tommy’s shoulder. “He kept all these things here for you to come back for them.”

Tears rolled down Tommy’s face as he registered the silent revelation: his dad had loved him after all, even though he didn’t show it. A sick feeling of guilt settled in his stomach, and he nearly felt the Taylor Ham and cheese bagel he’d eaten earlier come back up. Still, he swallowed it down and nodded in agreement as he handed some of the stuff off to Eddie and Chim, who put some of those things in their own rental car so they could take them all back to Drew’s house; Drew had made up the basement for them all to stay temporarily, at least until final decisions were made with what to do as far as Thomas Sr. was concerned. Tommy was certain that he and his siblings were quietly agreeing that it would be best to pull the plug and cremate their father, but Tommy was uncertain whether there should be a full memorial.

“We should get a box to put all this stuff in,” Hen said, drawing him out of his thoughts.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah.” He turned to Hen, managing a weak smile in her direction. “Thanks for coming and having my back.”

“You didn’t even need to ask, Tommy. We’ve always got your back.” He closed his eyes as Hen turned her head upward to kiss him on the forehead, and he sank into her embrace. He knew she wasn't his mom. But in that moment, she felt like the closest thing to a mother that he needed. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 – Bobby

“You wanted to see me, Cap?” Tommy asked as he walked into Bobby’s office.

“Yes, Tommy, have a seat,” Bobby told him, sending a wave of nervous panic through him. The last time a captain asked Tommy to sit in his office, he’d nearly been sexually assaulted. But Tommy had to heave a deep breath and remind himself that Bobby wasn’t Gerrard. In the time that Bobby had been with them as captain, he’d been nothing but kind and gracious, but also stern when he needed to be. He made sure that they all ate together and that no man was left behind, ever.

“I wanted to talk to you about an opening at another fire station,” Bobby said. “Harbor is looking for a new pilot/firefighter/medic certified in search and rescue. Their best pilot recently retired.”

“I haven’t been a pilot since I left the Army, sir,” Tommy protested; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the cockpit of a chopper, but he also wouldn’t deny that he missed the freedom flying gave him. Being up in the clouds was so liberating; he was certain any kid who saw Power Rangers: LSR fantasized about being a pilot, firefighter, or paramedic in one way or another, and that had been his boyhood favorite show and guilty pleasure for years. At least when he was up in the sky, he felt untouchable, like nothing could ever hurt him. It provided him a sense of safety that nothing else could.

“Doesn’t matter; all you need to do is renew your pilot’s license. You’re already CPR certified and have combat medic knowledge. And you’re a great firefighter,” Bobby said. “I just don’t want to see you settle when I know you have more to offer.”

Tommy contemplated Bobby’s words momentarily. On paper, it made sense. Bobby would never be okay with anyone just settling when he saw potential in them to be more. However, he also could sense from Bobby’s tone that Bobby was hinting at something deeper.

“I think you’re talking about more than just me being stuck here,” Tommy said.

“I’m not suggesting you’re stuck, Tommy,” Bobby said. “Not at all. But I was wondering when the 118 will be meeting your fiancé.”

Tommy felt his heart leap to his throat; he’d mentioned his girlfriend a few times, but didn’t give a name. He and Abby hadn’t really talked much about the wedding planning just yet; they’d only been engaged for about three months, and they were still contemplating things. Abby kept asking him whether he’d invite anyone from work, but each time she tried to talk about wedding planning, he dodged the question, hoping Abby would be content with a trip to Vegas, so they would not need to worry about planning a huge wedding where it would be expected for Tommy’s coworkers to show up.

“Um, we’ve only been engaged for three months,” Tommy said.

“Still, you’ve dated this woman for the past two years; you’ve been with her a little bit before I came here,” said Bobby. “I think it’s time we met her. Unless you’re having doubts.”

“No, she’s the one,” Tommy insisted.

“Is she?” Bobby quirked an eyebrow. “Are you happy? And I mean, really happy? Like you could envision yourself coming home to, and waking up to her every day? Having children? A home? Is she the one that you want to be with?”

Tommy could feel his eyes sting. Bobby’s words struck a nerve. Could he picture himself living like this every day, sharing a bed with a woman and being in a loveless marriage? Not that he didn’t love Abby. He loved her as a person. But he wasn’t attracted to her. It made him wonder if it was worth it, living a lie like that.

Finally, he whispered, “No, I’m not.” He looked down in shame. “I love her. Just . . . I don’t know if I love her the way that I should.” The words spilled out of his mouth like vomit, and he shoved his fist into his mouth so that he didn’t say any more. He didn’t want to spill all this to Bobby. Bobby was extremely religious. A Catholic. Catholics didn’t believe in . . .

But Bobby reached over and took his hand, and Tommy glanced up, seeing a look of concern and care in Bobby’s hazel eyes, a gentleness that Tommy’s own father had never given him before.

“I think you know what you want. But you’re not ready for it yet,” Bobby said gently. “And that’s okay. Whenever you’re ready for it, I’ll be here to see it, because you’ve got a long life ahead of you, Tommy. And you deserve to be happy; I promise it will be well worth waiting for. I want that for you.”

***

As he lay in bed beside Abby that night, he could not sleep.

Abby slept peacefully beside him, and Bobby’s words from earlier haunted him. He kept hearing them on repeat, about how he deserved to be happy.

And he wasn’t happy.

Abby was a wonderful woman. But she wasn’t the one.

Tears rolled down his face as the undeniable truth that he had tried shoving away all these years finally hit him.

He couldn’t love Abby the way that he wished he could, because he was gay.

Rising from the bed, he wandered over to Abby’s desk where she kept her stationery, and he sat down on the couch in the living room, knowing what he was about to do would absolutely crush her, but he had to so that he could finally breathe without feeling like he was suffocating. It wasn’t like he was living there, anyhow; he still had his house, and he hadn’t sold it yet.

He found himself thankful that he hadn’t sold his house, the one place he knew he could be himself.

He sat on the couch and began to write.

Dearest Abby,

It kills me to have to tell you this, because you deserve better. Better than me, anyhow.

I love you.

Just . . . Just not in the way that I’m supposed to.

I never fit in. I tried my hardest to take the truth, shove it in a box, and lock it away because I couldn’t bear it. I needed to face disappointment from the people I had tried so hard to earn approval from all my life. I’d spent my whole life running and hiding. I tried convincing myself that you could fix me because I was so convinced that I was broken.

I don’t love you the way that I am supposed to because . . .

Because I’m gay.

That’s why you deserve better. You deserve a man who is honest, a man who isn’t ashamed, a man who loves you unconditionally and knows that you are the one, a man who could give you the family and life that you deserve because you are the most incredible woman who gives so much to everyone around you. I want that for you, but I can never be that, no matter how badly I may want to be.

I never wanted to hurt you like this. But I’ve been cheating myself for so many years, pretending to be something I wasn’t. And I just can’t keep doing it anymore. I can’t keep playing this game because you don’t deserve a man who plays games with your heart and mind like this, and I am so sorry that I did this.

One of the Ten Commandments is not to lie. And I’ve been living a lie for too long. I cannot keep living my life with secrets, and the fact that I roped you into this mess, I don’t think words can ever express how truly sorry I am for that.

I hope that you have a very blessed life, Abby. Because you deserve that. And I wish Patricia well. I sincerely hope that she will be okay; I know she will be because she has a wonderful daughter who cares for her so much.

Goodbye,

Tommy

He left the letter lying there and then tiptoed back to the bedroom to grab his duffle bag. Tears still rolling down his face, he bent down and kissed Abby on the forehead before quickly, quietly leaving, knowing that there wasn’t anything left here for him. He left the apartment complex and walked outside to his truck, debating where to drive.

He decided on Bobby’s apartment. It felt safe. And that was what he needed.

***

He quietly knocked on Bobby’s apartment door, and Bobby greeted him with bleary, tired eyes, but when he noticed Tommy standing there with tears on his face, he looked at him in understanding.

Bobby opened his arms, silently inviting him in, and Tommy dropped his bag to the ground and stepped forward into Bobby’s proffered hug. Feeling Bobby hugging him, Tommy could feel himself crying harder as he buried his face into his captain’s neck.

His own father had never hugged him like this, ever.

It was the first time he’d ever felt a father’s embrace, and it broke him further as he let out a wail, clutching at the back of Bobby’s T-shirt as he wallowed in the guilt that he felt for breaking Abby’s heart.

Bobby didn’t say anything. He just stroked Tommy’s hair soothingly and cradled his head against his shoulder.

Tommy choked out, “We broke up!”

Bobby nodded. “I figured,” he said gently. “It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay, Tommy.”

He didn’t see how it could be.

He lay wide awake in the bed in his brother’s guest room, his thoughts once again keeping him up.

Thinking of what he and his siblings were about to do made it impossible not to think of Bobby. Meeting Bobby led to Tommy admitting the uncomfortable truth, and it led to him having the kind of career that he always wanted: a career where he helped people, and what he did mattered, a career where he could truly have the freedom of flying again without all the hurt and baggage of DADT. And beyond that, it led to him finding Evan.

Granted, he had not anticipated that he and Evan had both dated the same woman.

But as he lay there in bed beside Evan, he thought of how central Bobby was in their getting together at all. Bobby had been one of the first to gently encourage Tommy to be himself, to be true and open, and while it had taken him many years before he was able to, saying the truth made him feel free.

Writing it down in that letter to Abby had been both healing and damaging at the same time; it both hurt and it also freed him, like he was finally breaking free from that suffocating box that he put all his feelings into. And while he hadn’t said the words “I am gay” to Bobby, he always sensed that Bobby knew.

Bobby knew that he hadn’t been happy.

Bobby had seen a window into his very soul, and encouraged him to open that window and see what else there was out there for him.

His chest hurt as he realized even more: His father had been proud of him; Thomas Sr. just didn’t know how to express it because he’d been repeating old habits that he’d learned from somewhere, a vicious cycle that led to years of hurt and trauma for Tommy.

And Tommy, unknowingly, followed those same habits; it led to him breaking up with Evan when Evan asked him to move in. He’d been scared, so he ran; scared of what forever would look like with someone who truly wanted him unconditionally, who was ready to commit on the first shot with a relationship that was his first, who believed that your first could be your last. He also remembered Evan harshly saying that he did not sleep with everyone he had feelings for.

Those words had stung, but Tommy also understood that Evan had been hurt by Tommy's jealousy of Eddie, of all people.

It was the exact damn thing with that basketball game; Evan had been jealous of Tommy hanging out with Eddie because Evan had been interested in Tommy, and was trying to get Tommy’s attention.

Tommy felt like a fool.

No, he felt like an even bigger fool for ever thinking that Evan’s feelings for him were due to him being something new and exciting, his first boyfriend. When he watched Evan collapse and cry in that hallway the night that Bobby died, Tommy saw a man who loved so deeply, and Tommy knew that Evan’s feelings were far deeper than skin-level; Evan loved passionately, just as passionately as Tommy, and Tommy wanted his forever person.

He wanted that to be Evan so badly.

He was so caught up in the memories of Bobby overlapping with memories of Evan that he was barely aware of Evan stirring in the bed, leaning against his elbow to look at him.

“Hey, honey, you haven’t slept yet?” Evan asked him.

Tommy shook his head. “I can’t,” he said numbly. “It’s just . . . seeing my dad yesterday made me think of Bobby, and the more I think of Bobby, the more I think of you, and . . .”

Evan hummed gently, moving to scratch his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “Did I ever tell you about this one call I went to? Some time after I realized that it was over for me and Abby?”

Tommy shook his head. “No.”

“It was this couple, Thomas and Mitchell,” Evan whispered, his voice raw with tiredness but also sympathy, and Tommy could feel a source of irony that one of the men was named Thomas; it almost seemed too coincidental. “They were only married for five years because gay marriage hadn’t become legal until 2015. But they were together for decades, since the seventies. They spent every moment together and stayed together even though they couldn’t get married, and they waited for so long to be able to get married. It was a short marriage. But a lifetime partnership. And well . . . Thomas, he accidently left his car in neutral, not park, and it hit Mitchell; Mitchell died by the time we got there, we were too late, and I watched as Thomas said goodbye to his husband and laid beside him; he died of a broken heart.” Evan paused, swallowing hard as he moved to lay his head on Tommy’s shoulder, one of his hands pressing against Tommy’s heart. “When I saw that, I thought, ‘That’s love. That’s what real love looks like.’ And I wanted that so much. And I knew I wasn’t getting it with Abby because she’d moved on. So, I dated this girl, Ali; she left because she couldn’t handle the idea of me being in danger, the idea that one day, I wouldn’t come home. And then I dated Taylor Kelly, that reporter, and yeah, I really, really liked her, I’d grown to love her so much that I asked her to move in, which was the dumb thing I did after I’d done a really dumb thing beforehand allowing your work wife Lucy to kiss me . . .”

“Wait, you and Lucy kissed?” Tommy shot him an incredulous look, eyebrows shooting upward and creasing his forehead.

“We were drunk,” Evan said. “Like I said, it was dumb. And my asking Taylor to move in afterward was even dumber. But we did not break up because of that. We broke up because she went behind my back and put that story out there about Jonah Greenway––”

“That serial killer who was playing God?” Tommy asked.

Evan nodded. “She wasn’t above using anyone for a story. She still isn’t. And I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t have my back, yet she expected me to have hers.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Tommy turned so he was on his side, facing Evan the same way.

“Because, Thomas,” Evan said, moving so that his hand framed Tommy’s jaw. “I have been looking for such a long time for that person who will be my partner in life, the person who loves me so much until death do us part, like Thomas and Mitchell, who couldn’t handle the pain of being without the other because they loved one another that much. And I know you said you’re my first but not my last. I think someone can be your first and your last, Tommy. And what you and I had, I wanted you to move in because . . . because throughout those six months, I felt so strongly for you.”

“Do you still feel that way?” Tommy asked.

“After we broke up, whenever I felt like texting or calling you, I’d compulsively and obsessively bake something to get my mind off of you,” Evan said seriously. “And coupled with Eddie moving off to Texas, not even once considering that he was leaving me behind, I . . . I felt like I didn’t have anything else until Maddie suggested I find some new friends. And Ravi, he’s become a great friend. But . . . I mean, nothing can ever compare to me coming home to my person, the person who makes me feel complete. So, yeah, I still feel something for you. And if you felt nothing for me, you wouldn’t have come when I called you for help. You even said you also did it for me. Did you mean that?”

Tommy nodded. “You know I did,” he whispered. “Whether we’re together or apart, I’ll always care about you, Evan.”

“And Bobby told me when he figured out that we were dating that you were good people and good for me; he said he knew you were good for me because we didn’t have to talk about it, whereas the other people I dated in the past, we always had to discuss because I think he knew that Abby, Ali, and Taylor were never going to be what I needed long-term. But you . . . I think he sensed you were different, that we were something different.”

“And he was right.” Tommy smiled, moving so that his hand gently cupped Evan’s chin, and he captured Evan’s lips in a soft kiss, like the one they shared before they first started dating.

It was tender and soft as their lips molded together, and Evan moaned slightly into it as they broke away.

“Is this us trying again?” Evan asked.

“I hope so,” Tommy whispered.

Evan nodded. “Do you think you can sleep now?” He ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair a little more, and Tommy relaxed into Evan’s touch, sighing.

“I’ll try.”

“Okay.” Evan pulled him close, keeping him positioned so his head was lying right over Evan’s heart, ear pressed to Evan's chest, and he could hear the gentle thud, thud, thud of Evan's heartbeat as Evan breathed deeply, rubbing a hand through his hair while he hummed a familiar song, Poison's "Every Rose Has Its Thorn," the song that Tommy would always play in the car whenever they went out on long drives together, and Tommy would joke about Evan singing off-key, but he hardly cared because even though Evan was a tone-deaf singer, hearing him belt out to Bret Michaels's vocals was one of his favorite sounds in the world. Tommy closed his eyes as he drifted into another memory, a memory of Bobby that would forever live in his mind, the one that he remembered the clearest and he was so convinced that he’d never be able to forget it; even though many said the first thing that you forgot once some died was the sound of their voice and their laugh, he could never forget Bobby’s voice because this particular memory was so clear in his mind. He would hold onto it for the rest of his life.

“Hi, Tommy.”

Tommy nervously took his seat on the outdoor patio of the café, where Bobby told him to meet him that afternoon. It was one of the rare times they both had a shift off. And Bobby asking him to go to lunch was a surprise; they hadn’t gotten as close as Evan did with Bobby, but Tommy still remembered Bobby’s words about being there when Tommy found whatever it was he was searching for, the thing that would make him happy.

Tommy sensed what this was about. Tommy knew Bobby had seen Evan’s soot-covered mouth in the hospital room after Howie and Maddie exchanged their vows.

“Hi, Cap,” he said.

“You don’t work for me anymore, Tommy. Call me Bobby,” Bobby told him with a warm smile.

“Sorry; that’s just weird.” Tommy sat down across from his former boss, who nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I know.” Bobby sipped some water thoughtfully before saying, “Remember what I asked you before I suggested you transfer to Harbor?”

“Whether or not I was happy with Abby, right?” Tommy asked evenly.

“Yes. And you said that no, you were not happy,” Bobby said gently. “But did you find what you were looking for?”

Tommy contemplated Bobby’s question; he knew that it was more layered than just asking him about his job as a pilot. Yes, being a pilot was liberating and incredibly invigorating, and being up in the clouds brought him so much peace, but he felt lighter.

Because he met Evan.

Finally, he said, “Yeah, I think I did.”

“And are you happy?” Bobby asked, his eyes glinting with the hint that he knew.

Tommy nodded in return, feeling a smile ease onto his face as he said, “Yeah, I really am. I kinda can’t stop thinking about him.”

Bobby smiled warmly in return. “Then there’s nothing more to talk about, Tommy. You’re good people. You’re good for Buck,” he said, his eyes wide and kind, full of sincerity.

“And how do you know that?” Tommy asked, feeling some doubt resurface. Him? A good person? How did Bobby know? What did Bobby know? Did he have any clue what Tommy had been like under Gerrard?

“Remember that call we had at that house fire, where the father said that his baby boy was still in the nursery?” Bobby asked gently.

Tommy nodded. “How could I forget? You were going to jump down there if it meant getting to the baby.”

Bobby closed his eyes thoughtfully, whispering, “You saved my life that night, Tommy.”

“And you were so mad afterward,” Tommy said. “Why?”

“Because before I began dating my wife, I carried a black book around that held one hundred forty-eight names of all the people I’d killed in the apartment fire in Minnesota,” Bobby explained. “It included the names of my late wife and my children: Marcy, Robert Jr., and Brooke. I’d promised myself once I got to LA that I would save as many lives as I took that night, and after I saved one hundred forty-eight people, I was going to take my own life.”

Tommy could hardly contain his gasp of surprise; he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, and suddenly, he had less of an appetite as the waiter came over to take their order. He ended up ordering a small cup of the soup of the day: cream of mushroom and wild rice, because he was convinced that he wouldn’t be able to eat anything else. Meanwhile, Bobby ordered a club sandwich. Tommy couldn’t understand how Bobby could eat after revealing something like that.

“I think that night, at that house fire, I thought, ‘This won’t be the worst way to go,’” Bobby admitted. “But then I felt you grab me by my turncoat and yank me back before I could follow that crib into the inferno.” He opened his eyes and looked at Tommy with so much gratitude that Tommy felt the heat rise to his face. “You saved me that night, Tommy. You, Hen, Chimney, Buck, and Eddie . . . you kids, Athena, and my stepchildren gave me a life. But because of you, I got the chance to begin living again; I never would’ve gone on my first date with Athena if you hadn’t pulled me back. And for that, I want to say thank you.” He smiled widely before reaching over and taking Tommy’s hand in that fatherly way. “You know, I mentioned that in my recommendation letter to Captain Smith when you began transferring to Harbor. I told him how you changed my life the night that you saved me, and that the people at the 217 could learn something from you.”

“Even after all I’d done?” Tommy could feel his eyes burning as he looked at Bobby. He knew Bobby was vaguely aware of what Tommy had been like under Gerrard’s captaincy.

“Nobody is beyond redemption, Tommy,” Bobby assured him. “And look at you now. I’m proud to know you, and I am so proud that you are with Buck; I know he’s very proud to be with you, too.”

“I hope so,” Tommy whispered. “I want him to be.”

“Then continue being that man, Tommy,” Bobby told him.

Tommy nodded. “But is everything okay now?”

Bobby smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I have a wife and two stepchildren whom I love more than anything. I haven’t thought about those one hundred forty-eight names in a long time.”

Tommy nodded. “I’m glad.”

Tommy watched numbly as his father’s heart stopped beating as soon as the medications stopped and the tubes and wires were pulled out. And the doctors and nurses wasted little to no time in prepping his body to be cremated.

Still, he cried as he watched it happen, because even though he hated the man, part of him still wanted approval from his father, and part of him would always care what his father thought. He would always be that scared little boy who both feared and admired his father, even when his father was in a drunken rage, beating him so badly that school nurses and teachers asked him where all those bruises and welts came from.

He held Lexi close as she cried against his chest, registering this was the very first time he’d ever held his niece. He’d spent so many years running that he missed seeing his siblings' beautiful lives, and that hunger to reconnect with them only grew stronger as he hugged Lexi closely while Evan kept an arm wrapped around him comfortingly. He could feel the others from the 118 standing behind him solemnly, just as they did at Bobby’s funeral.

He felt Hen holding his hand and Eddie and Howie close behind him, close enough to touch as he broke down silently, especially when the nurses wheeled Thomas Sr.’s body away into the morgue and when they gave Tommy his father’s clothes.

Turning to his brother and sister, he whispered, “Are we doing a service?”

Katie shook her head. “I don’t know what we should do. I mean, I know we agreed on cremation.”

“But I don’t want him buried next to Mom,” said Drew, shaking his head as he wiped his eyes. “He . . . All those years we watched him hurt her as she was dying, and the fact that she stayed with him even though he was abusing her after she got sick . . .”

“Mom would always say he didn’t mean it,” Tommy said bitterly, more tears falling from his eyes. “But I think part of her was hoping that he’d change. But I also think Dad showed us that sometimes, things are so broken that they can’t be fixed no matter what you try to do.”

“I know the feeling,” said Howie bitterly.

Hen nodded in sad agreement, as did Eddie, as he shifted uncomfortably. Finally, Tommy whispered, “I don’t know if I could go through with planning a full funeral.”

“Me neither,” said Katie.

Drew shook his head. “Neither can I.”

“So, we’ll just leave it at that,” Tommy sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” Katie agreed. “Yeah, I think so.”

“But we also should all agree not to lose contact again,” said Drew. “Because I don’t want my only way of hearing about you to be through the news, Firefighter Kinard.”

Tommy nodded. “I work Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter. But how about we agree that once a year, we have a reunion of our own? ‘Cause that’s what Mom would want.”

“Yeah.” Katie nodded, her lip trembling. “Tommy, I don’t know how much longer you’re staying, but . . .”

“I took two weeks off,” Tommy said. “But we’ve actually got a flight to catch soon to Minnesota.”

“So, how about this?” Drew suggested. “Once a year, we get together and go down the shore? See if we can go down to Seaside and maybe make some newer memories, ones that aren’t tainted by all the blown-up family trips we went on after Mom got sick?”

Tommy nodded in agreement; Seaside Heights had been their family vacation spot, and they’d stopped going after Rose Kinard died because their father was too drunk, and he’d spend all his money on beer, always beer, so they were never able to take a trip like normal families. To be able to go down the shore with their families that they’d built so that they could repair the damage, Tommy felt that there couldn’t be anything more healing than that, and he was honestly up for that. Plus, he could have sworn he heard Bobby’s voice telling him that that should be the next step he’d take, because Bobby would want him to repair the relationships that mattered most.

“Yeah, we should,” he agreed softly.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 – Evan

The plane ride to Minnesota seemed even longer than the one to New Jersey, but when they finally landed in St. Paul, Tommy’s chest felt heavy, realizing that they were about to go to Bobby’s final resting place.

The plan was to visit Bobby, Marcy, Bobby Jr., and Brooke, and then go to a bar afterward, maybe have a beer and toast to Bobby, and then get the next available flight back to LA.

But as they got off the shuttle bus taking them through St. Paul, they found what had to be Bobby’s old address; the structure had been rebuilt from the ground up, but everyone could sense that this was the apartment complex Bobby had burnt down when he’d been drunk and high and depressed.

They saw a memorial stationed outside the apartment complex; there was a photo of Bobby and his family: his late wife and two children, and Tommy felt sick at the sight of it, because he knew that Bobby had carried that burden of being his family’s murderer for all those years, punishing himself by going to confession to confess to sins that should have been forgiven at that point.

Seeing the photos of a much younger Bobby, Tommy shook his head, thinking that Bobby had been in pain behind that smile.

He had to turn away from that memorial sight, his heart in his throat, and together, he and his 118ers went off to the cemetery where Bobby was buried.

Evan wouldn’t let go of his hand the whole time, even as they stopped in front of Bobby’s gravesite with flowers for Bobby, Marcy, Robert Jr., and Brookie. Seeing their names etched on the headstones, Tommy felt that ghosts were haunting him, and he didn’t consider himself a superstitious man at all; yes, he believed in the curse of the “q” word, but he didn’t believe in hexes or jinxes or any of those other ridiculous things Evan believed in. Still, he felt that the universe was yelling something at him as he stood at Bobby’s grave, placing the lilies down on the ground.

“Hey, Cap,” he whispered. “We’re all here.”

“We know you know already,” Howie whispered, “but Robby’s getting bigger and he’s noticing more; I took him to the firehouse with me and showed him the pictures we keep of you up in the loft, right in the kitchen; he babbled something that made it sound like he was trying to say your name while Buck was making your mac and cheese.” Tears filled Howie’s eyes as he mentioned his baby boy, who was so big already for a four-month-old, holding his own bottle on his own. “I told him, ‘Yeah, that’s who you’re named after. I’ll tell you all about him when you’re older.’”

“That boy’s gonna be a handful, just like his Uncle Buck,” Evan sniffled. “But you’d be proud of Harry. He’s a great probie, one of the best probies I’ve trained up.”

“And I’m taking the paramedic’s exam,” said Eddie. “Someone needs to fill Chim’s shoes as A-shift paramedic. And May . . . she switched her major to studying health promotion and disease prevention. After what happened to you, she said that she wants to go to the academy for Hazmat training and paramedic certification once she finishes college. She said she would if she could do something to prevent what had happened to you. You and Athena raised two great kids, Cap. She’s gonna start apprenticing this summer. Hen and I will train her right up. You have my word.”  

“And Karen and I adopted Mara,” said Hen, smiling tearfully. “We just wish you were here to celebrate that with us.”

“And you were right about everything,” Tommy whispered, squeezing Evan’s hand even tighter. “I am good people, and I’m good for Evan. You always knew.”

Evan leaned his head on Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy turned and kissed Evan on the top of the head.

They stood vigil for several moments, with Eddie muttering the “Our Father” under his breath while Tommy pulled Evan closely to him, thinking back to how they first met and why: it had all started with Howie asking him for help due to Bobby and Athena’s cruise ship being capsized.

Tommy knew what he was about to do was incredibly stupid. He knew he would defy many protocols, but it was Bobby and Athena.

He owed a lot to Bobby. Bobby had written his recommendation letter for Tommy when Tommy was transferring to Harbor.

He needed to do something to return the favor in the biggest way that he could.

He met Howie outside Harbor and saw that Howie had two other men in tow: one guy who for sure looked ex-military; Tommy could tell just by looking in his dark eyes that the guy had to have been in the Army. But the other was bright-eyed and sunny, and the first thing that Tommy noticed was the man’s baby blues, so full of life, dancing wildly; the young man looked like he got drunk without taking a sip of alcohol, like he got drunk off just living life, and Tommy wouldn’t lie to anyone that he nearly got lost in the young man’s eyes, barely catching Howie making introductions.

“Hey, Tommy, thanks for this,” Howie said, reaching over and shaking his hand.

“Anytime,” Tommy assured him.

“Eddie Diaz,” said the ex-military man.

“Ev-Evan Buckley,” the blonde young man stammered, and Tommy could see the nervous glint in Evan’s eyes as he looked at Tommy blushingly. “Um, people call me ‘Buck,’ but, you know . . .”

“Evan’s totally fine,” Tommy assured him, casting him a smile. Tommy watched as Evan smiled back, and he could feel his heart skip a beat, especially as he saw how Evan looked at him, like he was noticing something completely alien to him and was fascinated.

Holy crap. This young man was fucking adorable, not to mention, really handsome and just Tommy’s type; he never liked stoic people and he wasn’t one for brunets. He liked blonds, and he liked people who were lively, energetic people, and he could tell by looking at Evan that he was like the Energizer bunny without even a sip of coffee, and he could see how Evan’s eyes flashed with a sort of vibrancy that Tommy didn’t find often in people.

Tommy wasn’t quite certain if Evan was into guys, but he could read people quite well. He considered his gaydar to be sufficient, and he could see from the way Evan looked at him that Evan was either gay or bi, because the only time men got flustered upon meeting Tommy was if they found him attractive.

"Nice to meet you both,” he said warmly before going to business. “Now, we don’t have a whole lot of time. That hurricane will not let up any time soon, and we’re gonna be flying into the eye of it. So, we all better hope and pray that none of us ends up dead, or worse, fired.”

“And I think Hen’s gonna be here any minute,” said Howie, gesturing for Evan to get on the chopper first. Tommy chuckled as Evan stumbled, climbing up into the back of the chopper, and Tommy caught him before he could fall back. Tommy had never seen a firefighter with so little poise; he wouldn’t lie that Evan was cute in a clumsy sort of way, and he watched as Evan seemed to blush a shade of tomato red that covered up that weird-looking bruise on his eyebrow.

“What fire did you earn that in?” Tommy teased.

“It’s um . . . it’s a birthmark,” Evan said, blushing even deeper.

Tommy chuckled as Evan fully climbed into his seat, and Howie took the seat in the middle, followed by Eddie. He closed the chopper’s door behind them, preparing himself for what would happen when Hen arrived. After all, the last time he’d seen her had been at his surprise going-away party, where she’d gotten him cake and balloons.

He just hoped that Hen would be willing to accept his help after all this time. He also hoped that he wouldn’t lose contact with Howie and Hen, either; the last time he’d spoken to Howie, Howie had needed a favor when the 9-1-1 dispatch center was experiencing technical difficulties and couldn’t answer calls in time to send help. This reminded him of how much he missed Hen and Howie.

He also hoped that this wouldn’t be the last he’d see of Evan, either. Because he really wanted to see Evan again, preferably not in the face of a life-threatening emergency.

“Here’s to Bobby,” Howie said, raising his bottled beer, and they all followed before taking a drink.

They were all gathered at some neighborhood bar in St. Paul, and Tommy could see that it was a bar that firefighters frequented. There were at least a handful of firefighters seated around the bar top area, sipping beer and pounding down tequila shots, some of them looking rather sooty, like they’d just gotten done with a call. Looking around the place, Tommy realized with a pang that this was probably a bar Bobby had frequented when he wanted to get drunk, when he hadn’t been clean. But Tommy could also see there were photos of firefighters up on the walls; Bobby’s picture was among them, but it had to be before he’d been a fire captain. He looked younger, like he was in his twenties, but even Tommy could see in those photos that Bobby hadn’t been the least bit happy.

Still, nothing was going to stop them from drinking to Bobby, their father, the man who’d died choosing to save his chosen family, his second chance he’d gained after he lost his wife and children.

“To Bobby,” Evan agreed solemnly, but before he could sip his beer again, someone cleared their throat behind them, and they turned to see someone who appeared to be a fire chief. He was dressed in the blues of a fire chief and had a forlorn look on his face, his eyes holding an unmistakable sadness.

“You all knew Bobby Nash?” he asked, and Tommy read that his nametag read “Chief P. Evans.”

“We’re the ones from his house, the 118,” Howie said, nodding.

Chief Evans nodded. “I figured. I transferred him to you after his six months of rehabilitation. He wanted a way to make up for all he’d done. Initially, he wanted me to reinstate him with the St. Paul fire department, but the other firefighters weren’t convinced that he could lead them.”

“Bullcrap,” Evan said, shaking his head. “He was the best captain we’ve ever worked under.”

“So, I’ve heard,” Chief Evans said. “He’s greatly missed here, as well. He dedicated his life to this service, and when word got out that he passed . . .”

“There wasn’t anything that could’ve been done,” Tommy whispered. “He made his choice.”

“And he said he was at peace with his decision,” said Evan, his voice breaking. “He said it wasn’t because he wanted to go. But I think some part of us will always wonder if he was truly happy, because the 118 wasn’t supposed to be his home; he saw it as punishment for what he’d done to his family.”

Chief Evans sighed. “He was convinced for the longest time that he didn’t deserve forgiveness or another chance at a family. But I see he’s built himself quite a family.” He cast them all a sympathetic glance, and everyone from the 118 nodded.

“Yeah, he did,” said Hen.

“Well, if any of you need anything, call.” He handed Howie his card and left, and the 118ers all turned to each other.

“You’re part of that, too, Tommy,” Howie said. “You may not have worked under Bobby for as long as you’d worked under Gerrard, but you were one of us.”

“And you still are,” Evan reminded him. “You made fake-mouth static when we were flying through a hurricane.”

At that, Tommy had to smile as he turned to Evan, whom he could guess now was his boyfriend again. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Bobby would tell you the same thing,” Eddie said seriously. “This is the family we all chose.”

Tommy nodded as he sipped his beer; it wasn’t craft beer, but it would do. And as he drank to Bobby, he thought of that night, the night that Evan lost his father, the night that Tommy returned and performed yet another favor for the 118, and for Evan.

Tommy stood there, watching the monitors. He watched as Bobby removed his breathing mask, and he saw it, even in the grainy surveillance footage that Bobby looked horrible. The blue lighting made it all seem colder; Bobby looked paler and paler as he coughed, blood leaking from his nose so darkly, it looked black.

A sinking sensation filled him, and he felt something crawl up his throat as he watched Athena enter to have some final moments with her husband. He felt like he would throw up as he crossed his arms over his chest protectively, watching as Bobby knelt down and prayed as he coughed violently. But what made him feel sicker was the sight of Evan, who was sinking down to the ground in the hallway, losing any and all strength within him to stay upright.

He watched as Evan’s face twisted into an expression so full of pain as he let out an ugly, wailing, screaming cry of pain that Tommy could not hear, but could see, and he could visualize the wracked sobs bursting deep from Evan’s gut as he collapsed to the ground. Seeing that, Tommy felt his eyes fill, his heart burning not just for Evan, but for Bobby . . .

He thought of Bobby’s words to him from that lunch they had when he and Evan first started dating. How Bobby had been suicidal at one point. Bobby had assured him that he was okay, had told him that he no longer felt that way.

Tommy felt the betrayal hit him like a sharp slap to the face; Bobby had lied, or at least, Tommy wondered if Bobby had been lying about being okay. Because seeing Evan so broken and hurt, unable to be there as Bobby took his last breath, Tommy felt so angry at Bobby for lying to him like that.

But he couldn’t do anything. Evan needed to get moved into decontamination. But it appeared that Evan was unable to get up from the floor. He practically needed to be carried out by Hazmat as they supported him up. And Tommy watched as Evan was brought out of the lab, this time no longer wailing and screaming, but rather, trying to be strong, trying to hold himself together as best as he could as the tears rolled down his face.

Tommy continued standing there for over an hour until Evan was released, and by the time Evan approached him, his face was stained with dried-up tears and snot. His eyes were red-rimmed. But his mouth was set with determination. Still, there was no denying that Evan looked like he’d be sick right there.

“Evan,” Tommy whispered, unable to think of what to say that would sound the least bit comforting.

“He told me I’ll be okay,” Evan whispered brokenly. “I have to be!”

“Well, with me, you don’t have to be,” Tommy whispered. “I said I did this for you, too. And if you need me, I am here.”

Evan blinked at him, and Tommy watched as his ex-boyfriend suddenly shoved a fist against his mouth as his breathing grew heavier. A slight green tint came over Evan’s face as he ran out of the tent, and Tommy felt compelled to run after him.

Which he did.

He followed Evan out of the tent until they were on the curb near where Karen and Ravi were, and he watched as Evan lost the battle with his stomach. The sounds were so awful as Evan heaved up everything he’d eaten earlier that day, so full of pain and so raw as it all came up, splattering on the pavement.

Tommy quickly leaned a comforting hand on Evan’s back, rubbing in soothing circles as Evan heaved, unable to control his stomach. When Evan’s stomach finally stopped fighting, he was panting and choking for air, shaking weakly.

“Do you need a ride home?” Karen asked.

“Take us to his house,” Tommy whispered to Karen. “I’m not leaving him alone tonight.”

Karen nodded. “Of course.”

“Give Hen my love, okay?” Tommy told her, reaching over and hugging her tightly.

Karen nodded against his shoulder, smoothing her hand across his back before she pulled away. “Come on.”

Tommy nodded silently, grabbed Evan’s hand, and led him away from the curb. He knew that he was in deep shit. He knew that he would be investigated, possibly have his honorable discharge changed to a dishonorable one, maybe even get his pilot’s license suspended due to his insubordination, but now wasn’t the time to think about any of those consequences. Evan needed him. He did this for Evan.

He did this for the 118.

He solemnly led Evan to Karen’s car, and she drove them back to Eddie’s old house, Evan’s house. It took both Tommy and Ravi to get Evan out of the car and into the house and settle him on the sofa. Evan looked numb, not saying a word, so pale and out of it, like he was there but not really there. Tommy knelt in front of him and cupped his face in his hand.

“You with me, Ev?”

Evan just blinked and nodded at him, before mumbling, “Someone has to call Eddie.”

“I will,” Tommy said firmly. “Okay? I will call Eddie. Don’t you worry about anything else tonight except for getting cleaned up and rested.” He turned to Ravi. “Start running the shower. Put it on the hottest it can possibly go.”

Ravi nodded and went to do as Tommy ordered. Tommy gently helped Evan out of his turnouts, removing the heavy jacket, pants, and boots before guiding Evan to his feet and to the bathroom, where Ravi waited.

“Do you need me to do anything else?” Ravi asked.

“No, I can take it from here. You go with Karen to the hospital and be with Howie and Hen. I’ll take care of Evan.”

Ravi nodded, though he looked uncomfortable leaving his work partner behind like this. But he also knew Evan was in the most capable hands. He departed by patting Evan on the shoulder, and Tommy helped Evan strip out of his LAFD uniform until he was completely naked, and then helped him into the shower.

“Get cleaned up,” he whispered. “I’m calling Eddie right now, okay?”

Evan nodded numbly, and Tommy wandered off to go and give the most dread-filled phone call he could ever give to anyone, all the while worrying sick over his ex-boyfriend, who didn’t seem all that present. He decided that the least he could do was make Evan something to eat, as neither of them had any dinner, and it was after midnight. He knew from what Evan told him almost a year ago that Bobby had left Evan all of his recipes, and Tommy decided that Bobby’s baked potato soup was just the thing Evan needed: comfort food without it being as heavy as Bobby’s mac and cheese. He was certain that Evan wouldn’t be able to stomach pasta right now. That, and Tommy could handle making a soup that didn't come from a can; he considered soup to be one of the few things that he could make. 

He saw Evan had everything for Bobby’s soup: bacon, potatoes, cheddar cheese, milk, butter, and sour cream. He pulled the recipe out and diced up the potatoes, putting them into water that he began to boil. While he waited for the potatoes to cook, he put the bacon on a sheet pan and popped it in the oven before reaching for his phone and dialing Eddie’s number.

He knew that Eddie had been ghosting him since his and Evan’s breakup. Evan had gotten Eddie in the divorce. However, this was urgent. He dialed Eddie’s cell and pressed the phone to his ear as he kept an eye on the potatoes to make sure that they didn’t overcook.

Eddie picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He sounded tired and groggy, and Tommy felt the guilt settle in for what he was about to say as he put the phone on speaker so that he could talk to Eddie and continue checking on the bacon and potatoes.

“Eddie,” Tommy whispered, “something’s happened. There’s been an accident.” No, it was no accident. Moira Blake’s creation had murdered a captain, husband, father, and stepfather. And Tommy would do whatever it took to make sure that that cold-hearted bitch paid for what she did. He clenched his hands into fists tightly before reaching for a fork to poke at a piece of potato. It was softening now, enough so that he could drain the water and finish cooking them in the soup; he even saw it listed in Bobby’s instructions, written in his meticulous handwriting.

“What?” Eddie asked. “Tommy? What happened? Is Buck okay?”

“I brought him back home. He’s safe,” Tommy whispered. “But . . . something went down tonight. There was an explosion at this lab; they were testing a deadly, infectious disease that only had one dose of an antiviral. Chim . . . he caught the illness, but Bobby . . . he didn’t say that his oxygen tube broke; he was sick with it, and he decided to give the cure to Chimney. He’s . . . He’s gone, Eddie.”

“No!” Eddie breathed out, and Tommy could picture his friend covering a hand over his mouth to try and muffle his cries so as not to scare the living shit out of Christopher, who was probably fast asleep in bed.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” Tommy whispered. “I helped where I could; I stole a helicopter and broke so many martial laws to get that cure to the lab in time, and it feels like it’s not enough.”

“Is Buck . . .?”

“I got him in the shower, and I’m fixing him some food right now. But I think you should prepare to come home. Evan or I will let you know once things are set for the funeral.”

“Okay. Thank you. Just take care of Buck.”

“I will.” Tommy hung up the phone and returned his attention to the soup. He drained the potatoes in the sink and started the roux, melting down the butter and mixing the flour in before slowly adding milk and water into it until it was the right consistency, and then he shredded the cheese into it, letting it melt down before he added the potatoes. He put the lid on the pot before heading back to the bathroom to check on Evan. He first stopped by the bedroom and grabbed Evan some comfy clothes: an LAFD hoodie and pajama pants, and Tommy couldn’t help feeling a pang of hurt at realizing he’d never taken one of his hoodies back; the hoodie read KINARD on the back of it, along with 217.

He gathered up the clothes before heading into the bathroom, where he heard Evan sobbing. He gently pulled the curtain back and found his ex curled up on the bottom of the tub, shampoo suds still in his hair.

“Oh, baby,” Tommy murmured, leaned a hand onto Evan’s shoulder, and guided him back under the water to rinse Evan’s curls out. Once Evan was thoroughly rinsed, Tommy wrapped him in a towel and began drying him off, and Evan shivered violently as he was dried off. Tommy then proceeded to help him dress in fresh boxers, the sweatshirt, and the pajama pants before he got Evan out of the bathroom and into the living room, where Evan lay on the sofa, curled in a ball, while Tommy went off to keep an eye on the soup.

The soup thickened, and Tommy tested the potatoes. They were tender. He then pulled the bacon out of the oven and let it cool before he chopped it up and added it to the soup. Once he was sure the soup was as perfect as he could get it, he ladled it into a bowl and then wandered back into the living room, where he placed the soup in front of Evan.

“Not hungry,” Evan whispered.

“Try to eat something for me, baby, please,” Tommy whispered, running his fingers through Evan’s curls.

Evan reluctantly nodded and sat up until he leaned against Tommy, and Tommy picked the bowl up and proceeded to spoon-feed Evan the soup, feeling that Evan wouldn’t have the strength to lift the spoon. Evan seemed to detect that this soup was Bobby’s recipe, because he relaxed a little more into Tommy once he tasted it.

“Bobby’s?” he asked numbly.

“Yes,” Tommy murmured gently, feeding Evan a little more. “Just take a few more bites. You don’t have to finish the whole thing.”

Evan nodded and allowed Tommy to continue feeding him until half the bowl was finished. Tommy set it down and continued running his hand through Evan’s hair, soothing him as he turned the television on, selecting Evan’s Discovery+ and deciding upon a docuseries about Africa, knowing how much Evan loved learning and how much he loved nature and animals.

He kept the volume on low as Evan curled further into him, shivering. “He told me he loved me,” he whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t say it back.”

“He knew you loved him,” Tommy soothed. “And you’ll never stop loving him.”

“I’m just so scared that I won’t ever be okay,” Evan whispered. “‘Cause they’re all gonna need me. But I can’t be their captain. I . . .”

“Then don’t be,” Tommy whispered. “Just be there. And care. Sometimes, that’s all it takes. Caring. Showing up.”

Evan nodded. “Thank you for showing up tonight.”

“I always will, Evan. Any time. If you ever need me, pick up that phone; I will come running to you. I promise.” He leaned down and kissed Evan on the forehead, and he silently swore that he would uphold that promise no matter what.

***

He heard the knock on his door. He was about to head to his garage to get a workout in on his heavy bag.

There had been a hearing. He’d been told that while his pilot’s license wasn’t revoked, he was on a paid suspension for insubordination, and he was also under probation by the US military for his interference, meaning he was on an ankle monitor and had to get permission to do something as basic as go to the grocery store. Captain Smith had fought for his suspension to include payment, and Tommy was thankful that his captain had vouched so hard. But it was still made explicitly clear that if he ever did what he did again, there would be even worse consequences ahead.

A workout on the heavy bag was just what he needed to get all his anger out.

But the knock on the door interrupted his plans, especially since he saw it was Evan on the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” Evan asked quietly.

Tommy nodded. “Did you eat breakfast yet?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll fix you something.” Tommy went to his fridge and grabbed the carton of eggs, as well as almond milk, protein powder, a banana, and peanut butter to make a protein shake. But as he started cooking breakfast, Evan sank down in his seat at the kitchen table in defeat.

“Eddie and I had a fight last night,” he said as Tommy served him up the plate of scrambled eggs, whole grain toast, and the protein shake.

“About what?” Tommy asked.

“I shouldn’t even say it. ‘Cause then I’ll be making it all about myself,” Evan said bitterly. “He accused me of making Bobby’s death all about me, that I didn’t consider how he felt getting the phone call that Bobby died, that I wouldn’t have been happy for him if I found out that he got offered the job with the El Passo FD, that I’d been spiraling since the funeral and that no one knows how to talk to me about anything because I get sad and upset, and I had to apologize to him for that!”

“You don’t have to apologize for how you feel,” Tommy said firmly, grabbing Evan’s hand in his, all the while feeling pissed at Eddie; this wasn’t the first time Eddie said something about Evan making things all about himself. “Not in the least. If you feel sad that Bobby is gone, you’ve got every right to feel sad about it. Eddie was wrong for telling you that.”

“And it didn’t help that he pinned me to the wall and pointed his finger in my face,” Evan gritted out.

Hearing that, Tommy jumped from his seat, his anger surging through him in ways that he’d never felt before as a fierce protectiveness came over him. “Then I’ll go find him and break his finger if he thinks he can put his hands on you like that!”

“Don’t even bother,” Evan said numbly. “He went to the airport. He left a note this morning.”

Tommy shook his head. “Son of a bitch!”

“Tell me about it,” Evan said, his voice breaking. “Here I am, trying to be okay for everybody, and I’m not okay, and yet everyone is treating me like I’m a piece of glass!”

“You don’t ever have to worry about that with me.” Tommy knelt down and grabbed Evan’s hands in both of his. “Okay? I don’t think you’re broken or fragile. You just need someone to be with you and tell you that it’s okay if you’re not. I will be that person, if you want me to.”

Evan nodded. “I do,” he choked out.

Tommy nodded before grabbing Evan in a fierce hug, feeling his ex-boyfriend’s tears soak into his shirt as Tommy held him tight, rocking him gently. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

***

He heard his phone ring shrilly, and he looked down to see the photo of Evan's adorable face flashing on his screen. He picked up the phone with a smile. While it sucked that he was still on a supervised probation with the ankle monitor, he was relieved that the thing would come off by the end of the month and he would no longer have any restrictions.

What he hated the most was not being able to be out there to help with that apartment explosion. From what he heard, there were absolutely no casualties. He felt proud of everyone at the 118. They really did it for Bobby. Even Eddie stepped up. Granted, Tommy was still fighting the urge to break Eddie's jaw for throwing Evan against the wall, but he supposed seeing Eddie step up for the team allowed his anger toward Diaz to fizzle slightly. But it would take him far longer to forgive Eddie for that.

"Hey, baby," he said, hardly realizing that he'd slipped up and called Evan by the nickname he'd given him when they were dating.

"What are you up to now?" Evan asked.

"Nothing," said Tommy. "But I heard about that apartment collapsing. I saw it on the news. Good thing Diaz showed up when he did."

"He caught a case of FOMO," said Evan. "But Maddie and Chim had their baby a couple of days ago."

"Aw, man, that's great! Congrats, Uncle Buck."

"Thanks." There was silence on the other end. "So, how are you holding up with your probation? I imagine you were just itching to help us out there."

"I was. But all I could do was watch. It killed me to have to sit and watch while you guys got to have all the fun. And I hate that I couldn't be at the hospital to meet baby boy Han."

"Well, the universe will be sending a special something your way right now." A knock came at his door, and Tommy hung up the phone to answer it. When he opened the door, it was to Evan's smiling face, as well as Howie and Maddie and Jee-Yun. Maddie was carrying a car seat that held a beautiful baby boy lying fast asleep, clutching a stuffed Tigger doll in his tiny fists.

"Here he is!" Maddie said, grinning tiredly, her brown eyes filled with exhaustion; Tommy could see the remnants of baby weight in her, but she looked good for someone who'd just given birth to her second child.

"Did you just get out of the hospital?" Tommy asked her, gesturing for them to come in as Bear came bounding from the backyard to greet them. Upon seeing the baby, Bear made a go for the baby to try and lick his face, but Tommy had to physically restrain the dog by tugging on his collar. "Bear, Bear, easy boy! That's a baby. Be gentle, okay? Sit, boy!"

The dog did as he was commanded and sat at Tommy's feet, but otherwise nuzzled Jee and allowed her to love on him.

"Evan insisted you get to meet him before we head back home," said Howie, grinning.

"So, what's the little man's name?" Tommy asked as he sat on the couch, and Maddie lifted the baby out of the car seat before passing the little guy over to Tommy, who didn't at all hesitate to take the baby into his arms as Evan sat beside him.

"Robert Nash Han," Maddie said proudly, and Tommy could feel his eyes burning as he looked down at the little boy who was Bobby's namesake. Without even thinking about it, he leaned down and kissed the baby on the forehead, which caused two big brown eyes to blink open and peer up at him in wonder.

"Robby, say hi to your Uncle Tommy," Howie said, pulling his phone out to snap a photo and take a video.

"Uncle Tommy?" Tommy looked at Howie in confusion. "Are you sure?"

"You're family, too," said Evan, taking his hand.

"Evan's right," said Maddie. "If it weren't for you, my son wouldn't have a father. You're forever in our debt, Tommy. Start getting used to it."

At that, Tommy smiled as he glanced down at the baby, who brought a hand up to touch his face.

"Hey, Robby," Tommy whispered. "You know, you're named after someone who would be very proud to know you, kiddo. You've got a guardian angel looking out for you."

He leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead again. He couldn't help thinking of how Evan gave him a second chance at having a nephew and niece that he could adore. Still, it also made him think of his niece, Elektra, back in New Jersey, how he was the uncle she probably always heard about but never met because when he'd enlisted, he ran from New Jersey and never looked back, determined to never have to put up with his father ever again. But he'd never anticipated gaining a much kinder father in Bobby, and siblings in Hen, Howie, and Sal, even though he hadn't been there too long to see the 118 form into the family that it was today.

But he also knew that he wasn't going to waste another moment. He allowed Evan to keep holding his hand, and Maddie and Howie continued snapping photos of him and Evan taking turns holding the baby, of them entertaining Jee-Yun by putting on Harry Potter and that Percy Jackson show she was currently obsessed with.

He could get used to this, being an uncle to these kids. And as he glanced over at Evan, he saw Evan looking at him with those heart-eyes, the eyes that never failed to make him look like some golden puppy that thought the world of him.

Tommy smiled back at Evan, whom he would never have met if it weren't for Bobby.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 – Family

They landed in LA a little after midnight. The flight from Minnesota departed at about 8:45, the soonest flight they could get, so that they could go home.

Tommy was more than happy to return home to his bed and his dog. He collapsed in his bed the moment he arrived, not even bothering to kick off his shoes, and Evan followed suit, pulling him into his arms and holding him tightly while Bear snuggled into him, pressing his face against Tommy’s. Tommy breathed in Bear’s scent and kissed the dog on the top of the head.

“I’m just glad I’ve got you, young man,” he whispered, kissing the dog on the nose before drifting.

He felt Evan kiss him on the back of the neck and added, “And you too, baby.”

“You gonna be okay?” Evan murmured against him.

Tommy contemplated. Granted, he was at peace with his siblings, and he reconnected with his niece. But he still had so much to make up for. But he also didn’t want to think about all those things. All he wanted was to sleep, to finally rest after days of grief.

As he drifted, he thought of how he had his siblings and his niece back in his life. Things weren’t perfect, but he was more than glad to have some of his blood family back. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Katie, Drew, and Lexi until he’d gotten the call saying that his father was on life support, but seeing them in the hospital, he decided that he would never allow so much time to go by without seeing any of them.

It had been painful, seeing Lexi and Katie especially; he couldn’t believe that the last time he’d seen Lexi, it had been in baby photos because he missed her birth, the chance to hold her, something that he would forever regret for the rest of his life. He also couldn’t believe that he’d missed out on Drew, either, that Drew had gone through several breakups with various girlfriends because he’d been terrified of repeating vicious patterns that their father had repeated, so as a result, Drew was not married and had no children, despite being the eldest sibling in the family. Tommy could only imagine how lonely that was for Drew, but Drew told him that maybe, he would try dating again.

Tommy hoped for that for his brother, because his brother deserved happiness, too.

Just like he did.

For years, he’d chosen misery over happiness, convinced that he didn’t deserve it. But then Bobby entered the picture and changed his entire life, and because he’d met Bobby, he got his wings back, his freedom, and he met the most amazing man who loved him and cared for him and wanted to have a life with him.

Evan was firm. He was solid. He was safe. And feeling Evan’s arms around him helped lull him into a quiet slumber.

So, he drifted, relishing in the peace that came along.

Evan convinced him to come to the 118 the next day, adamantly insisting.

Tommy didn’t know what Evan had planned, but he knew Evan was hiding a shit-eating grin. He knew Evan and Howie must’ve had some conversation while waiting for the plane departing from St. Paul.

Tommy just hoped that whatever it was, he liked it.

Evan insisted on driving him to the station, and upon their arrival, Tommy quickly noticed nobody from the A-shift was up in the mezzanine, where they would typically eat breakfast at the long, communal table, a tradition that Bobby had started, insisting they eat as a family. But he could smell coffee and knew that somebody had cooked, probably Hen or maybe Ravi; Hen was the second-best cook next to Evan, and Ravi had begun learning some of Bobby’s recipes, as Evan was passing those secrets down to the guy who mirrored him: the probie who came in very green with a lot to prove, but was eager and hungry to learn.

Tommy walked through the firehouse and allowed Evan to lead him up to the rooftop. Evan kept holding his hand the whole time, smiling gently.

“What’s all this for?” Tommy asked.

“We’re doing something a little different today,” Evan said. “And because you’ve still got some more time off, you’re joining us for family breakfast.”

Tommy swallowed hard at this. He knew Howie and Evan were sincere in assuring him that he was family. But knowing that he was being included in their firehouse meals was something else entirely. It felt almost wrong, eating without Bobby. But he also knew that Bobby would want them all to stick together and that he’d want them to continue his tradition of eating together, because he’d chosen them: they were the family that Bobby had chosen.

They reached the rooftop doorway, and Evan opened it for him, and Tommy was greeted by the blinding LA sunlight and the fully set-up rooftop. The foldable lawn chairs were all positioned in a circle, gathered around a large, round table that held breakfast foods: tin trays filled with Bobby’s French toast casserole, fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and from what Tommy could see, Taylor ham, though how they’d gotten a supply of Taylor ham, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know, because a product like that was considered contraband in California. There were also mugs, the full coffee pot, cartons of oat milk and regular milk, and a bowl filled with fresh fruit. But that wasn’t all.

Maddie, Athena, and the kids were also present; Christopher, Jee-Yun, Denny, and Robby were all there. Robby was in his car seat-turned-stroller, being fed yogurt, mashed-up bananas, and mashed-up avocado by Maddie, and Jee was currently positioned on top of Ravi’s shoulders, but upon seeing Tommy and Evan, she shrieked, “UNCLE BUCK! UNCLE TOMMY!” She all but leaped down from Ravi, climbing off his back, not even bothering to wait for him to get down low enough, and she raced across the roof to jump on Tommy, her arms winding around his legs.

Tommy chuckled as he stooped low to hug her. “Hey, princess!” he said, lifting her before passing her off to Evan, who eagerly took his niece as her hands made their way into his curls, fisting them.

“What’s all this?” Tommy asked as he took one of the vacant chairs, and Evan sat beside him, already grabbing him a plate and piling food onto it.

“Family breakfast,” Howie said. “And the kids have off today because of teachers’ conventions.” He gestured to Chris, Jee, and Denny, who at this point were all seated together.

“And, we were just talking about that one call we went on,” said Hen. “Remember? During one of Bobby’s first weeks with us? We were called to report a stabbing?”

“Oh, my God!” Tommy looked down at the scrambled eggs on his plate and grimaced. “I won’t be able to taste eggs the same way again.”

“Why? What happened?” asked Evan, genuinely curious.

“Oh, we were called because a victim said he was stabbed,” said Howie.

“And when we arrive, we find out the perp was a rooster. His name was Maurice,” said Hen.

“Bobby tells Tommy and Sal to corral the rooster, and Tommy’s got his hands out in front of him in surrender. Sal asks him whether he’s gonna kiss Maurice or not.” Howie howled, the peals of laughter ripping through him, and Eddie snorted loudly.

“I didn’t know what to do with him!” Tommy defended. “The best part was Bobby handing the rooster off to Athena. To think that’s how he met his future wife!”

“Don’t ever remind me of that, Thomas,” Athena scolded.

Tommy chuckled; he’d sooner forget about Maurice. But he also couldn’t deny Bobby had been the rooster whisperer, and it was a good thing that Bobby had a soft spot for animals. Bobby had known just what to do to calm the rooster.

“How about we tell him about the time we got the call for that jumper?” Evan said, grinning and looking quite proud, and Tommy had to guess that that call had to be one of Evan’s proudest moments.

“Oh, you mean when you did the maneuver?” asked Howie.

“Wait, you took over doing all the fun stuff?” asked Tommy. “That was my job!”

“Then you missed all the fun; this man was leaning over the edge of his window, threatening to jump because he thought his girlfriend was cheating on him,” Evan laughed. “I heard the whole thing from the rooftop. She tells him, ‘You’re not that terrible! Will you please get down so we can talk about how you can improve?’”

“Okay, I’m pretty sure that if you don’t want the guy to jump, you don’t want to say that,” said Eddie.

“Oh, it gets better,” said Evan, grinning madly as he spread his hands out in front of him, leaning inward as he got into telling the story. “So, he says he doesn’t think he needs to improve, and the girl tells him, ‘Go ahead and jump.’ And Bobby’s trying to get her to apologize so that the guy can hear what he wants to hear. So she says, ‘Leonard, I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. I love you and only you!’”

“Did he believe her?” asked Tommy.

“He just looks at her, dead on, and goes, ‘You lying beach!’” Evan said, clearly censuring himself so that the little ones didn’t have to hear what was actually said, and that got everyone laughing in hysterics.

“Was that before or after I proposed to Tatiana?” asked Howie once he caught his breath.

“Before,” said Evan. “Cause then came your accident with the rebar sticking out of your head.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember: Sal was there. He was the first to see me, look at me, and say, ‘Howie, what did you get yourself into now?’”

“Yup, sounds like Sal,” Tommy said around a mouthful of eggs.

Breakfast on the rooftop continued for a good hour; they continued exchanging stories of various calls they’d been on. Evan recounted the one call they went to of the man with Alien Hand Syndrome nearly choking him out and grabbing Eddie in the crotch, and that had happened before his and Tommy’s first date. Eddie recounted another call they went to of a man who climbed up onto someone’s roof and stayed there for eight hours, and how they’d taken bets on whether the man would make a leap for the tree. Athena recounted how crazy her husband turned with that viral treasure hunt, how he’d kept an evidence board hidden in their pantry. Tommy also joined in with his own anecdotes of one call that he, Bobby, and Howie had been on at the LA Zoo, where a little girl had snuck through the bars of the snow leopard habitat, and Tommy had to go in with a tranquilizer so as to ensure the child wouldn’t be harmed.

It felt nice. Even though they all were missing Bobby, somehow, the stories kept them remembering him.

At one point, Tommy peeled himself away to stand near the roof’s edge, looking down at the traffic below them and then up at the sky. The clouds were so puffy, so white and bright, and he couldn’t help smiling, thinking about how Bobby had given him the chance to fly again, and that he’d nearly given it all up to risk it all and saved Chimney.

But he would do it all over again in a heartbeat for this family.

He soon felt Evan coming to stand beside him, and he noticed that his boyfriend was carrying what looked like a small pile of photographs, some of which Tommy recognized from his time at the 118, others from when he was at Harbor, others of him and Evan, some of him with Eddie and Chris, and some of him and Bobby standing shoulder-to-shoulder some time before he transferred.

“Where’d you get those?” he asked, hardly able to believe that Howie and Hen had kept those photographs of him.

“Hen and Chim had these all saved,” said Evan, handing him the pictures. “It’s just to remind you that when you go back to work at Harbor, you’re still part of the 118, Tommy.”

Tommy managed a smile and picked up the first one he noticed; it was of his going-away party that Hen had thrown him before he transferred. He still remembered emerging from the ambulance only for Hen and Chim to smash his face into a cake that had an airplane drawn in the icing, and the photo that had been taken was of him covered in icing and crumbs of cake; Bobby had taken it that day, and Tommy could recall Bobby’s laughter as Tommy wiped frosting off his face.

Another photo was a selfie of himself, Sal, Howie, and Hen shortly after this one call that they’d all gone on together; it had been taken after they’d dropped the victim off at the hospital. It just so happened to be the call that led to Howie being nicknamed “Chimney.”

They arrived at the house and could hear the victim screaming for help. When they’d gotten the call that the man was trapped inside the chimney, they knew it had to be a result of the full moon.

People always got weirder around the time of the full moon.

They were approached by a woman, who looked at them in exasperation.

“Hello, ma’am, would you mind telling us what happened here?” asked Sal.

“Thank God you’re here,” she said. “It’s my ex-boyfriend. I told him that we were done months ago, and he’s still convinced that he can win me back.”

“And he thought that by pulling a Santa Claus, he’d give you a present you’d never forget,” quipped Howie.

“Whoever came up with Christmas in July is moronic,” said Sal.

“And it’s not even July yet,” Hen sighed.

“Okay, so Tommy and I will go up there with the lube; we’ll see if we can loosen things up and get this guy down. Howie, Hen, you two stay down there, make sure you check him for any injuries. And also, Hen, call Athena to issue an arrest warrant for stalking and attempted home invasion. Have her meet us at the hospital,” said Sal, shaking his head.

“You got it, Sal,” Hen said as she and Howie went inside the house to prepare for the man to come down from the chimney.

Tommy grabbed the ladder and the lube, and together, he and Sal climbed the rooftop of the house until they were staring down the chimney; they could see that the perp just so happened to be bigger-set with a large gut, and that had been the thing that led to him being stuck. Tommy shook his head, almost feeling sorry for the poor guy; he was in hysterics and hardly breathing at all due to how tight the space was, and it wasn’t like they could demolish the fireplace to get this guy out because he was stuck right in the middle.

“Sir, I need you to try and calm down, okay? My name’s Tommy, this is Sal, we’re gonna get you out. Could you tell me your name?” Tommy asked.

“Wall-Wallace!” the man whimpered.

“Okay, Wallace, it’s gonna be all right, man,” said Sal. “Just close your mouth, close your eyes, try to focus on slowing your breaths so you can preserve as much air as you can. We’re gonna loosen things up here and we’re gonna push you out; Howie and Hen are gonna make sure that you’re transported to the hospital.”

Tommy sighed, noticing all the ash from the chimney, signifying that the fireplace had been used recently. The fact that the man was breathing in all that soot wasn’t doing his breathing any favors, either; he would have to be treated for smoke inhalation, without a doubt. He opened up the packet of lube as Sal prepared him to get ready to climb down. Sal hooked him up to the equipment they used for rock climbing missions and tied the rope to the winch, which he’d drilled into the rooftop.

“Okay, Wallace, I’m coming to you, man,” Tommy said. “You know, there are healthier ways of getting a woman’s attention.” He slowly climbed down until he was at the man’s level, and then he called out, “Howie! Get underneath him; see if you’ll be able to grab his feet. Hen, prepare the backboard!”

“On it!”

“Don’t worry, Wallace, you’ll be out of here soon.” Tommy proceeded to squirt the lube along the man’s sides, making sure that it got along the man’s stomach and back, and he could already feel that the man was starting to slip.

“I’m-I’m slipping!” Wallace cried out.

“That’s right, that’s the general idea. Okay, Howie, when he gets closer to you, grab his feet and pull him down slowly,” Tommy instructed as he helped push Wallace down the chimney, closer to Howie, and he could hear from Wallace’s breathing that he was panicking more. “Though I wouldn’t be so scared of falling down. I’d be more scared of your ex.”

Wallace whimpered and nodded as Tommy pushed at his shoulders, though Tommy hadn’t anticipated Wallace to come down even faster than usual as Howie positioned himself right underneath to help catch him. Before Howie could even think of grabbing Wallace’s ankles, Wallace came tumbling down, right on top of Howie, his ass collapsing onto Howie’s face, and Howie lay there, coughing on soot as he lay there inside the fireplace.

“Howie, you okay?” Tommy yelled.

Howie could hardly answer as Hen slowly rolled Wallace off of him and onto the backboard. Once Wallace was off, however, Howie gave a weak thumbs-up.

“Yeah! Just peachy, Kinard.”

“Okay, Chimney, whatever you say,” chortled Sal.

Tommy watched as Howie went red at that, but Tommy had to admit, the nickname was catchy.

“Hmm, Chimney, I like it,” he said.

“Please don’t let that stick!” Howie yelled.

“Oh, it’s gonna stick forever, like an STD,” smirked Sal.

Howie rolled his eyes. “This wouldn’t have happened if you let me be up there!”

“Your job was important, too,” Sal shrugged.

Another photo was of Tommy shortly after he’d gotten that piece of shrapnel caught in his side in the factory explosion; Sal, Hen, and Chim had visited him in the hospital bearing flowers, and when he returned to work, they’d gotten him a cake that said, Man of Steel! There were pictures of not just his stay in the hospital with Sal pretending to kiss him on the cheek jokingly, but also of his welcome-back-to-work celebration with that cake.

He laughed as he remembered that memory. It had been during one of their many stints where they were going through captains like clockwork, and Sal was still putting his name in for the captaincy position, and he’d been the acting captain at the time.

Tommy climbed up the stairs to the mezzanine to find blue and silver balloons strung up throughout the kitchen; while he knew it was a tradition with them (ever since Gerrard left) to celebrate when someone came back from an injury that took them out of the field, a piece of shrapnel getting stuck in his abdomen was hardly a cause for cake and balloons. Yes, he’d lost a good amount of blood in that factory fire, and yes, it had required surgery that took him out of work for three weeks, but he hardly saw it as something to make a big deal of.

Still, he grinned as he entered the kitchen area and was greeted by Sal yelling, “HE’S BACK! The man, the myth, the legend!”

“Guys, so what? I survived some shrapnel that stabbed me in my side. That’s hardly a cause for cake,” Tommy said, laughing as he saw that the cake Hen had gotten was shaped like the piece of shrapnel, and that it read “Man of Steel” in bright purple icing.

“But you came back after three weeks, man!” Howie said. “We weren’t expecting you back until next month ‘cause that thing nearly went right through you!”

“Well, what can I say, Howie?” Tommy laughed before flexing his bicep. “Hulk not know his own strength!” he growled, and Sal snickered loudly. At Hen’s bewildered glance, he said, “Lou Ferrigno, The Incredible Hulk, 1978.”

Hen rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I think it’s safe to say we know who will be a runner-up for the Sexy LAFD Calendar shoot. Everyone, say hello to Mr. November!” Sal yanked Tommy’s shirt off over his head, which gave them all a view of his perfect body that he worked so hard to keep in peak condition. “Show off that scar, Kinard, and give us those muscles! The chicks will be digging in.”

“Shut up!” Tommy rolled his eyes. Still, to humor Sal, Tommy posed right by the cake, making sure to pose at the right angle so that his scar could be visible while he flexed his muscles, and Sal and Howie joined in with him, flexing their biceps.

“Come on, Hen, get a picture of this sexy son of a bitch! He’s gonna be a shoo-in,” Sal said.

Hen rolled her eyes again but otherwise took the photo. “This is so typical of you, white, macho, tough guys!”

“I know. But it’s part of our charm,” Tommy grinned.

There was a photo of him and Bobby after he’d passed his flying test to get his license renewed; Bobby stood beside him, looking every bit the proud dad, an arm wrapped around him, a beaming smile on his face. Tommy remembered that Chim had taken that picture that day, and Bobby had taken him out to dinner that night on him, telling him that he was proud, and Tommy still remembered that feeling of lightness, knowing that he had Bobby’s approval, as Bobby had been the one to help quiz him for the written test and drove him to every practice session.

But what really made Tommy smile was the photo of him, Evan, Howie, Hen, Eddie, Bobby, and Athena shortly after the capsized cruise ship; it had been taken by some other firefighter who’d been there to assist with search and rescue, and they all stood together, shoulder-to-shoulder, grinning at the camera despite the wreckage surrounding them. Tommy noticed in the photo his arm wrapped around Evan, and how Evan had leaned in closer to him. That should have been the dead giveaway that Evan had been interested, even if Evan didn’t know it at the time. He also couldn’t help smiling at some photos of him and Evan that had been taken by Maddie and Chim when they’d go on double dates; there was a picture of them curled together in a booth at Chim’s favorite Korean barbeque place in Koreatown, two bottles of ramen beer in front of them; Tommy had his arm draped around Evan, and Evan’s head was on his shoulder. He was especially happy to see the pictures from their medal ceremony; Tommy stood right beside Evan, holding his medal and certificate proudly while Evan half-looked at the camera and half-looked at Tommy, his eyes looking like they were melting with admiration for the man that he loved; that had been moments before Gerrard made his "wings" comment and gesture, and he felt a lump form in his throat as he remembered how Evan had stood by his side after Gerrard's snide remark about Tommy being a "fairy." 

"That's right, I heard you got your 'wings.'" Gerrard made a gesture with his hands beside his head, flapping his fingers, and Tommy fought the urge to glance down in embarrassment; he recognized what Gerrard was trying to suggest, that Gerrard knew he was gay; Gerrard had always known, but as Tommy now stood beside Evan, the evidence became that much clearer to Gerrard that Tommy was into men, not women, and Gerrard wasn't at all hesitating to rub that in, even if it was in front of Tommy's new boyfriend. 

Tommy felt sick to his stomach. He knew that he couldn't comment to Evan, "Oh, by the way, that's my old boss, who used to grope me in his office and almost made me give him a blowjob behind his desk." He didn't want Evan to see him like that, like he was some whore who slept his way to the top after being deemed Gerrard's "favorite." 

Suddenly, he felt the urgency to toss his full plate of food in the garbage; the thought of food didn't sit right with him. He could feel Evan's concern. But when Howie stepped in front of them, Tommy felt relieved. Howie may have been shorter than Tommy, but his stepping in front of Tommy and Evan made Tommy feel a little braver, like he could look Gerrard in the eye. 

"You know, it's good to see you haven't changed at all, Cap," Howie said coolly. 

"It's good to see you didn't forget your training, Han," said Gerrard dryly. "These floors are nice and shiny." He smiled in false approval, and Tommy fought the urge to wipe that slimy smirk right off Gerrard's face. 

"You taught me right," Howie said. "Whenever I see some filth, I think of you." With that, he led the way to the table he was sitting at with Maddie and Jee-Jee, and Tommy watched with a cold fist clenching around his heart as Evan seemed tempted to say something to Gerrard, but was clearly displaying a great deal of restraint not to say something stupid. But Tommy just offered Gerrard a curt nod in Evan's direction as he followed his boyfriend back to their table. But even as they sat back down, with Tommy sitting between Howie and Evan, the nauseated feeling in his stomach returned at full force as he picked at his full plate of food. 

"Well," Howie announced, "I am going to get us all some drinks. How do you all feel about tequila?" 

"Howie, you know how I feel about tequila." Tommy pulled a face; Howie knew he preferred craft beer as his choice of drink. 

"And you know how I am with tequila. Interesting things happen," said Evan, shaking his head. 

"Okay, then wine?" Howie said. 

"Yes, please," said Tommy. "Red. Preferably." 

Howie nodded and Maddie went off to get a slice of cake. She handed Jee off to Tommy and Evan. "Do you mind watching her?" 

"Not at all," Evan said, grinning. And Tommy had to smile; Evan was a sucker when it came to his niece. And Maddie plopped Jee down on Tommy's lap. Tommy didn't quite know what to do. He'd held plenty of babies he'd rescued on call. But to be handed one by Howie and Maddie, their child, he was filled with uncertainty. He only had one niece, one he hadn't seen in years. But he supposed Maddie plopping Jee-Yun on his lap was her way of silently communicating to him that Jee-Yun was his niece, too, now, that he was with her brother. 

Tommy tried to smile as he watched Jee play with the medal around his neck. "Shiny," she said. "It's pretty." 

"Yeah, yeah, it's really pretty," Tommy chuckled as the little girl made a grab for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they noticed Gerrard passing their table; Tommy caught Gerrard's cold gaze, and he shrank back. Jee seemed to notice, because she said, "Is he mean?" 

Tommy sighed. There was no dodging the little girl's questions. "Yeah. He was my boss before Bobby." 

Jee seemed to understand as she tucked her head into Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy could feel Evan grabbing his hand. "Are you okay?" he murmured. "Do you want me to say something?" 

"No." Tommy shook his head. "I'm fine. I just wasn't expecting for him to be here. And I've dealt with his comments before, just not in front of others like that, you know? He wasn't ever one to be so . . . public about it." 

Evan nodded, squeezing his hand softly. 

"I thought he'd be gone after I wrote my anonymous complaint against him," Tommy said. "But seeing him back here? It makes me embarrassed that I ever wanted that man's approval, that I sought out any kind of positive attention from him." Especially since that positive attention and praise were often coupled with unwanted touches to places that Tommy didn't want anybody, much less his captain, touching, but he wasn't about to tell Evan that, especially with Jee present, sitting on his lap; she was too little to listen to that, and he didn't need her hearing about behavior that had been normalized in a pre-#MeToo era. 

"Let me guess?" Evan whispered. "He has a way of making you feel small?" 

"Yeah, like I'm fifteen years old again, trapped in my house with my old man always complaining about everything I did, how I was a disappointment and couldn't be more like my brother," Tommy whispered bitterly. "I thought when I enlisted in the Army, I would get away from that. But I couldn't. Because I dealt with it from my first CO, and then Gerrard, and neither of those circumstances made me a better person. I just went along to get along; when Gerrard would say something racist, I just nodded along, I never spoke up because God forbid I did, he'd treat me the same way he treated every probie that came through; he would've made my life hell until I ran away, and in some ways, it was easier just to go along because it was about survival. I wouldn't have survived if I hadn't played the game." He felt his disgust with himself settle in as he pushed his food around on the plate, the food looking not all that appetizing to him now. "The sick part of it is, I knew better, right? I was old enough to know better than that." 

"You were just a kid," Evan whispered. "I mean, how old were you when you enlisted?" 

"I enlisted the day after my high school graduation," Tommy whispered. 

"So you were eighteen," reasoned Evan. "You said you served two tours, once as a pilot. You joined the fire academy at age twenty. You completed your probationary year at twenty-one. That's still young enough to be naive and immature. Look at me. I came here at age twenty-six, and Bobby would tell you stories about me that would have you thinking I was nothing but a punk and an idiot. All I'm saying is, Tommy, that we all grow, we all mature. Unless you're anything like that dinosaur, there's no maturing." Evan nodded with his head toward Gerrard. "But if you hadn't matured and grown from that, Chim and Hen wouldn't have gone to you for help the way that they did. They trust you." 

"They were more forgiving than I deserved." Tommy fought to keep the tears from his eyes as he watched Howie return with glasses of red wine for them. 

"If they've forgiven you, maybe you should give yourself a little bit of grace." Evan moved a little closer until their knees were touching. 

Tommy swallowed hard. "I don't know if I can," he whispered. 

"You should try," Evan told him, bringing a hand up to rub against the back of his neck. "Besides, if you want my opinion, I happen to think you're pretty great." 

Tommy managed a weak smile, and Jee-Yun piped up with, "Uncle Tommy's so cool." She lifted her head and kissed him on the cheek, and Tommy felt his eyes mist as he leaned his head down to rub Jee's nose with his. 

"See? Even you have got approval from the three-year-old," Evan said, smiling widely, blue eyes dancing playfully at the sight of his niece and his boyfriend getting along. "That's right, Jee, Uncle Tommy is really cool." 

Evan's standing by him had a way of making him feel taller, and his advice to Tommy about giving himself grace was a reminder to Tommy to be a little kinder to himself, to extend the forgiveness Howie and Hen had already given him to himself a little more every day, because he was no longer trapped under Gerrard's shadow, no longer stuck in the deep, dark closet where he felt the need to shove all of his feelings in a tightly-sealed box. And as he looked through the photographs, he felt warmer.  

He didn’t realize how many pictures there were of him from his time with the 118. Hen and Chim really had been thinking of him all that time. There were photos of him posed with the 118 after Howie and Maddie’s wedding, his face still covered in ash and Evan’s mouth covered in soot after they’d kissed. There were newspaper clippings of some of his more daring rescues as a pilot. There were pictures of him, Hen, Howie, and Sal at a Devils-Kings game, photos of the four of them at a Dodgers game, nursing bottles of beer, and selfies of him and Howie at a KISS concert together shortly after they became friendly with one another, sometime after Howie saved his life.

“I can’t believe you guys have all these still,” he whispered.

“This is your home, too,” Evan told him, grabbing his hand.

Tommy turned and smiled at him. “I love you.”

Evan cupped his jaw in his hand. “I love you, too. And I know you said you were jealous of what we have. But you had it, too. You’ll always be one of us. And whenever you doubt it, look at those and remember where you came from.”

Tommy nodded. He knew that he had a long way to go. He knew that he’d eventually have to confront Gerrard about all he’d done. He knew he’d have to set up some therapy appointments with Frank. He also knew that his relationships with his siblings and niece wouldn’t be fixed overnight. But the healing process was a work in progress, one that would require him to put in actual work. But he also knew that he didn’t just have Evan this time around.

He had more family than he ever knew he could have.

He moved until he was hugging Evan tightly, and Evan returned the embrace. He could get used to this, being part of a family again, because this was truly a new beginning.

Chapter Text

Epilogue – Redemption

On his first day back, he just had to get someone who was a jumper.

The 118 had called for additional backup from the 217, saying that they needed air transport on standby just in case things went south. They’d gotten a call from two worried parents who were panicking about their twelve-year-old son, who’d run away from home and was currently looking to jump from the side of a cliff facing the ocean.

The kid had jumped, but he hadn’t landed in the ocean; he’d fallen and landed on a rock and had broken his leg really badly, and it appeared that he wanted to finish the job. Whatever it was that this kid was going through, it had been bad enough that he really wanted to kill himself.

Tommy hovered overhead in the chopper with Lucy, watching with a sinking sensation in his stomach as the boy tried crawling his way toward the cliff’s edge so that he could fall into the water, the waves smashing into the cliff’s face, filling the air with brine of salt water. To make matters worse, the clouds were darkening overhead, turning darker and heavier, rain pounding down and smashing into the rocks, making them even more slippery than usual.

His heart sank. It had to be another jumper, another young kid who felt that his entire world was caving in because he felt like he wasn’t enough.

He knew what he was there for. If Evan, Eddie, Ravi, and Harry couldn’t get this kid to see reason and the boy ended up finishing what he’d started, it would be on Tommy to dive and get the kid transported to the hospital. He stayed on standby near the opening to the chopper, the ladder hanging down so that he could start climbing and jump in. His time of training with search and rescue also included training on how to swim in these hazardous conditions.

So, he stood and watched as Eddie, Ravi, Harry, and Evan all tried talking to the kid, but the kid just inched closer and closer to the edge, determined to end it. Even though he knew his role, he felt tempted to cower away and have Lucy do it, but Lucy was manning the chopper.

He then heard his name over the radio. “Tommy? Do you read me?” he heard Evan asking.

“Yes, Evan, I can hear you,” he said.

“Listen, Tommy, we’re not gonna be able to talk his kid off the ledge,” said Evan helplessly. “He’s really determined to end it all here.”

“So, what do you want me to do?” Tommy asked.

“Come down here and talk to him,” said Evan. “Please.”

“Are you sure it should be me?” Tommy asked, wary; the last time he’d been in this position, he’d failed to save a kid in a similar situation shortly after he joined the 217. He also thought of Emilio, the poor kid Gerrard had bullied to death. Those were two instances where he’d been faced with a victim of suicide that he’d failed to save. He didn’t think he could live with himself if he failed again. On top of that, Eddie and Evan were typically the ones to handle these sorts of formalities; Evan was especially good with kids, the type to pull children aside on calls and sit and talk with them while the others did the heavier things, like helping injured parents. Tommy didn't really deal too often with children, maybe babies here and there, but never pre-teens or teenagers going through something quite like this. 

"The parents found something in his suicide note," said Evan, his voice breaking slightly. "We think someone like you is exactly what this kid needs. You'll have more common ground with him." 

Tommy felt something tighten in his chest. He wondered what Evan meant by that, but his gut told him that this boy down on that cliff was hiding somewhere very deep and very dark, that he really needed someone who could relate to what he was going through. 

“You’ve got this,” he heard Howie assuring him; it was like Howie was reading his mind and sensing why he had reservations. “You’ve got this.”

“You really think so?” Tommy asked.

“I know you do,” said Howie. “And you’re probably the best person for this right now. Go.”

Tommy sighed. “Lucy, get me closer to the cliff. I’m gonna talk to this kid.”

“Be careful, Kinard,” Lucy cautioned as she brought the chopper closer to the face, her lip pulled down in a frown.

“Evan and Howie say I’ve got this,” Tommy said, hoping Howie and Evan’s faith in him would be enough as he prepared to climb down the rope ladder to reach the boy.

“All right, go get him, Maverick,” said Lucy, winking at him.

Tommy grinned at Lucy’s nickname for him as she got him close enough, and he proceeded to climb down, the harsh winds smacking him in the face, the rain stinging and mixing with salt. But he knew that this had to be done.

He jumped down and landed on the cliff’s surface inches away from the boy, who was still trying to crawl closer to the edge; in fact, the kid was nearly falling off the edge now, his broken leg dangling. Tommy winced as he saw that it was a compound fracture, the bone jutting out, blood gushing from the wound. He held a hand up toward Evan and Eddie, signifying that they should be on standby with a backboard, a basket, and supplies to stabilize the boy’s leg.

“Hey,” he said to the kid, casting what he hoped to be an easy, comforting smile, but the boy wasn’t having it; in fact, he was nearly rolling off the cliffside at this point, both legs dangling.

“Why don’t you just give up?” the boy asked him; the kid was crying, tears pouring down his face and mixing with the rain.

“Sorry, buddy, I can’t do that,” Tommy said. “Not my style. But I won’t touch you, okay? I just wanna talk.” He proceeded to sit down on the ground with the kid, curling his legs up until his arms were touching his knees. “We can talk about anything. My name’s Tommy. What’s yours?”

“Robbie,” the boy said.

Tommy had to suppress a wince. He recalled his conversation with Bobby about how Tommy had saved him from falling through that collapsing floor into that inferno.

Now, he was faced with a boy who had the same name as Bobby, the same name as Howie and Maddie’s baby boy.

He could hear Evan over the radio through his headset. “Tommy, listen, you saved Bobby in that house fire. Remember? You can save this boy, too. Just by being you.”

Tommy sighed. He knew Evan was right. He’d saved Bobby just by being Tommy.

Looking at the kid, he said, “Robbie? That’s my nephew’s name. And my captain’s name was Bobby.”

“Was?” Robbie asked.

“He passed away,” Tommy explained gently. “He was my captain before I became a pilot.”

Robbie just looked at him and said, “I’m sorry.”

Tommy nodded in return. “Do you mind telling me why you’re down here?”

Robbie shook his head, a sob releasing from his throat. “Because I’m nothing.”

“Come on, that’s not true,” Tommy gently argued, moving his hand off his knee and inching it toward the boy, a gesture of comfort.

“You’re just saying that ‘cause it’s your job,” Robbie sniffled. “You don’t get it. I’m weird. I have no friends. Everyone hates me.”

Tommy frowned sympathetically. “I’m sorry. Kids can be really mean.” He knew that he was just saying words at this point, but he also knew that he needed to tell this kid anything to keep him from moving closer to the edge.

“They all blamed me for us losing this game; I missed a wide-open shot,” Robbie said, shaking his head.

“What do you play?” Tommy asked, hoping that by finding something in common with the boy, he would get Robbie to open up to him.

“Field hockey.”

“I played ice hockey in high school,” Tommy smiled. “What’s your jersey number?”

“99.”

“No way! Me too; that was my number when I was in Peewees! Though I played mostly defense in high school. I take it you’re a Gretzky fan?”

Robbie smiled a little bit. “He’s the greatest there ever was. When Ovechkin broke his record, it was so cool.”

Tommy grinned a little wider before shifting back to the topic at hand. “So, that’s why you’re on this cliff? Because they all blamed you for losing? You know you’re not the only player on the team. You win together, you lose together.”

“But I could have cost us our spot at states because of my screw-up,” Robbie protested, shaking his head. “They were so mad afterward, said I didn’t belong on the team, said it was because I’m a queer and that queers shouldn’t be in their locker room. They all called me ‘faggot,’ ‘homo.’” His voice broke as he started crying harder, and Tommy had to suppress another wince upon hearing those words, words that Gerrard had used when talking to him. “They . . . the captain and two of his defense grabbed me, and they . . . they jumped me, started wailing on me; they pulled my pants down and they . . . they shoved a stick up . . . up my . . . saying, ‘You should go kill yourself,’ and ‘You’re better off dead,’ and ‘Nobody likes you, no one will miss you.’”

Tommy inched his hand closer, feeling his heart breaking. It reminded him far too much of all the times Gerrard would inappropriately touch him. He'd been lucky that it never escalated to rape. But this poor boy had gone through an intense sexual assault. Tommy could see it in the boy's eyes how he didn't want to be touched, and Tommy would respect that; he would let Robbie initiate contact so that Robbie could regain some agency. It was the least Tommy could do.

Tommy's throat tightened as he said, “They were very wrong to do that and say that to you. What they did . . . that's sexual assault.”

“But . . . But I’m . . . what if I am?” Robbie sobbed. “I mean, when they shoved the stick up in-inside me, I felt . . . I don't know what I felt!" His face turned hot red; Tommy could only imagine that the poor boy had experienced the early signs of being turned on even though the act had been far from pleasurable, and Tommy couldn't help picturing the boy's confusion over the whole thing. "They make fun of me all the time for it, making jokes about me kissing boys, how they always see me hanging out with girls . . . I mean, I . . . I notice cute guys, but is that normal?”

“It’s not abnormal,” Tommy offered as he nodded sympathetically. “But as for what you felt when they did that to you, that doesn't mean you liked it; your body just reacted. It's not your fault. I know how you feel. I’ve been where you are. And I’m not saying this because it’s my job, or that I have to. I really know how you feel, like . . . like you think your whole life is over because someone knows something you’re fighting so hard to hide, like you’ve got nowhere to run because you’re constantly backed in a corner; you think your parents won’t understand, that nobody will ever care enough to see. I’ve dealt with bullies. I was picked on for years.”

“Really? You? But you’re a firefighter.”

“And? That means I’m immune to it?” Tommy quirked an eyebrow. “Bullying happens everywhere. When I first started firefighting, I was bullied. My first captain, the captain I had before Bobby, he was mean. He was cruel. He was exactly like my father, so abusive, cold; he selected me as his ‘favorite’ because I was the tallest, whitest guy there, but he also knew I was gay. He’d pull me into his office after every call, and he’d touch me. And because I felt bad about myself, I bullied others, which wasn’t okay. None of it was ever okay. I’d thought about doing exactly what you’re doing right now. I was in this building that was about to explode from a gas leak; I could smell the gas, and I knew the building was about to blow. And all I could think was, ‘At least I’ll be with my mom. This isn’t the worst way to go.’”

He knew that this was one of the first steps in his recovery. Frank had told him to start confronting his past step by step, to reconcile with himself for his failures at saving those in his shoes. If he could save his boy, he saw that as his chance to make up for not rescuing those other two people. The next step would be confronting Gerrard, but that would have to come much later; he couldn’t handle the thought of facing Gerrard. But talking about how cruel Gerrard had been to him and empathizing with Robbie released some weight off his shoulders, surprisingly cathartic.

“What happened?” Robbie looked at him in curiosity, blinking tears away from his eyes.

“A good friend of mine raced in there and hauled me out,” Tommy said. “He’s the captain of the 118 firehouse, and he’s up there right now with a lot of people who wanna help you. So, take my hand. Come on, I’ll introduce you to all of them.”

Robbie hesitantly moved one of his hands, allowing Tommy to hold his as he whispered, “I don’t wanna go back to that school.”

“You can go to another one,” Tommy said gently. “But it won’t be easy. There will still be days where you feel your life sucks. But some people care; your parents seem to love you very much. And if you need a friend, I can give you my number, and you can call me anytime. You’re not alone. All right? ‘Cause I’m right here. And my friends up there are gonna come down here, they’re gonna come get you and bring you to the hospital. Maybe you could come by Harbor Station when you’re out of the hospital. You like helicopters? I could show you the ones we use. How’s that sound?”

Robbie nodded.

“All right, come on, now.” Tommy gently pulled the boy until he was lying flat on the surface, and then he said, “Evan, Eddie, come on down. Bring the basket with you and something to splint his leg. He’s got a compound fracture.”

“We’re on it, baby,” Evan said, and Tommy could hear Evan and Eddie climbing down the side of the cliff; luckily, there was enough space that they all fit, and Evan manned the basket while Eddie got the supplies ready. Eddie climbed down until he was beside the kid.

“All right, Robbie,” Eddie said, “let’s get that leg looked at.” He grabbed a stick that was nearby and snapped it in half before aligning it with the boy’s broken leg, and afterward, grabbed medical tape and taped it in place. Robbie hissed, letting out a cry as Tommy squeezed his hand tightly. “All right, Buck, bring the basket down here. Ravi, be ready with the winch.”

“On it, Diaz.”

Tommy continued holding Robbie’s hand the whole time as Evan brought the basket down. Together, Tommy and Eddie positioned the basket and helped roll Robbie onto it. Once assured that Robbie was secured, Eddie said, “All right, Ravi, bring him up. Give us some slack.”

They watched as the basket was maneuvered up, and Evan followed suit behind the basket to ensure it stayed steady.

“All right, see you up top, man,” Eddie said.

Tommy nodded back before reaching for the rope ladder and climbing back up. Once he was back in the chopper, Lucy looked at him with a gentle smile.

“What did you say to him?”

“Just that there are people who get it, and that it’s all gonna be okay,” Tommy said as Lucy directed the chopper toward the topside, and the moment it landed, Tommy walked over to where Hen and Eddie were loading Robbie into the back of the ambulance for transport.

“Tommy? You riding along?” Eddie asked as he climbed into the back.

“Yeah.” Tommy nodded before turning to Evan and Howie, who grinned at him. “Thanks for pushing me back there.”

“You always had it,” Howie assured him, patting him on the shoulder as Evan squeezed his hand gently.

“I think that kid’s gonna be just fine,” Evan said.

Tommy nodded in agreement. “He will be.”

Evan cupped his cheek in his hand before saying, “Go, ride with him. We’ll be right behind you.”

Tommy smiled and touched Evan’s hand before running to join Eddie and Robbie in the back of the ambulance. The moment the doors closed, Hen started driving, and Eddie hooked Robbie up to a saline drip that would have some morphine in it.

“Running a line,” Eddie said, handing the bag over to Tommy. “Hold it up, keep it steady.”

Tommy nodded, doing as Eddie instructed while Eddie checked Robbie for signs of a concussion. Tommy just took Robbie by the hand and smiled down at him. He felt glad that he’d saved a life, and that this time, he hadn’t been too late. And he didn’t know how, but he could have sworn he could hear Bobby’s voice in the back of his mind telling him that he was proud, and when the ambulance pulled up in front of the hospital, Tommy could see that the rain had finally ceased and that a rainbow was forming in the sky, gently shimmering.

It seemed to be telling him that Bobby saw what he’d done, and he couldn’t help smiling a little easier.

Yeah. It would be okay.