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Chapter Text

Evan Buckley had been holding it together for three weeks straight, and today, that fragile balance finally shattered. He cradled his newborn against his chest, one hand carefully holding the diaper bag, the other gripping Christopher’s small hand as they moved toward the door. Postpartum exhaustion clawed at his body, his chest sore and tender from both nursing and the binder he had reluctantly kept on in a desperate attempt to manage dysphoria. Every step echoed the nagging guilt he carried—guilt that he wasn’t “doing enough,” that he was failing as a father, that his body betrayed him in the most intimate moments.

Then he heard them.

“Evan, maybe if you hadn’t insisted on doing things this way—”

“Your decisions are making everything harder.”

“You never think things through—”

“Are you sure you can really handle this?”

“No wonder Maddie seems overwhelmed.”

“Evan, darling, are you seriously going to feed him like that? He looks uncomfortable. I don’t know why you insist on… whatever this is,” Margaret Buckley said, her voice slicing through the apartment like a razor. Buck stiffened. His chest tightened painfully, the binder digging into sore skin. “Mom, I’m feeding him. He’s fine,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice even.

Phillip snorted from the couch. “Fine? Evan, you want to be a man you don’t have the maternal instincts to care for him properly. Maddie and Margaret can handle it better than you.”

Buck’s breath caught. The baby squirmed against him, sensing his tension, and he adjusted the carrier instinctively. “I am his parent,” he whispered, but it sounded hollow even to his own ears. Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “Parent? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t even know what you’re doing. Look at his little hands! He needs structure, stability, guidance—and frankly, Evan, he’s safer if someone else takes over for a while.”

Christopher’s small voice cut through the room. “Dad’s fine. You’re being mean.”

Phillip’s glare made Christopher shrink back. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re being mean. Buck’s a good dad. You’re just… awful,” Chris said, cheeks flushing.

Buck swallowed hard. He wanted to protect his son, his baby, from everything. From Margaret, from Phillip, from Maddie, even from himself sometimes. But the knot in his chest was growing, each of his parents’ words pounding into his skin, into his exhausted, postpartum, dysphoric body.

“I… I need a break,” he whispered, almost to himself.

Margaret’s laugh was sharp, condescending. “A break? From your own child? Evan, you’re overwhelmed. You clearly can’t handle this on your own. Let Maddie—” “Let her take my baby?” Buck’s voice rose, though still fragile. “No. I’m taking him with me.”

He grabbed the diaper bag, hoisted the baby carrier securely, and turned to Christopher. “Shoes, buddy.” Christopher obeyed instantly like the great kid he is , and Buck’s steps shook, but he was moving. They didn’t look back. By the time Buck arrived at the 118, his legs felt like jelly, and the weight of the baby, both physical and emotional, pressed against him. Bobby was the first to notice, rushing over with a gentle, “Hey, come here.”

Buck sank into Bobby’s arms, letting himself breathe for the first time all day. Christopher clung to his dad’s sleeve, while Hen and Eddie arrived moments later, immediately forming a protective wall around them. “My parents… they were awful,” Buck whispered, his voice cracking. “They said I can’t take care of him. That Maddie should raise him. That I… that I’m not capable because of who I am.”

Hen’s expression softened. “Sweetheart. It’s not true. You’re doing amazing.”

Eddie knelt beside him, cupping his face. Kissing his birthmark “You’re safe. You’re not alone. And no one’s taking our baby.” Buck sagged, chest throbbing painfully. He wanted to nurse, to comfort the baby, to feel the connection—but the binder and his dysphoria pressed in, making him flinch at every touch. Hen noticed immediately.

“Let me help,” she said,Hen guides Buck to the private medic room, Eddie right beside him, never letting go of his hand. Bobby takes the baby, rocking him gently with a practiced calm that makes Buck tear up again.Athena stays nearby, keeping the hallway clear like a sentinel. Inside the room, Hen speaks softly. “Okay, Buck. A clogged duct is painful, but we can fix it. Do you want Eddie to stay?”

Buck nods immediately, eyes wide and desperate.Eddie sits close, holding his knee gently.Hen kneels in front of Buck. “You’re in control, okay? We’ll stop if you want to stop. Just breathe.” Buck swallows hard. “It just… it hurts. And I feel— I don’t want to look at myself right now.” Dysphoria trembles through every word. Hen nods, her voice a warm blanket.“We can work around that. I’ll touch only where I need to. Eddie’s right here. You’re safe.”Buck’s breath shudders out.

“Okay.” She carefully loosened the binder, helping him manage the clogged duct and murmuring reassurance as he 

And then the door slammed open. Chimney strode in, voice dripping judgment. “Buck, seriously? You left your apartment? Your parents have been stressing Maddie all day! You should’ve stayed, taken a turn!” Buck flinched, the dysphoria in his chest flaring. Eddie’s jaw tightened, Hen’s hands went to her hips.

“Chim—” Hen warned, low and dangerous. But Chim pressed on. “You abandoned them. Maddie’s crying, they’re upset, and this is all your fault.” Buck’s phone rang. Maddie. Crying, angry, furious. “They said you were rude, that you overreacted. That you’re incapable…” He hung up slowly, not wanting to hear the rest.

Hen cut Chim off sharply. “That’s enough. Bobby, suspend him.”Chim sputtered. “What? For telling the truth?”“For attacking someone already in pain,” Hen said flatly.Bobby nodded. “Gear in, Chimney. You’re off.”

 “Someone needs to say it! Buck can’t keep making everything about him! He’s postpartum, sure, but that doesn’t mean he gets to explode on everyone. And Hen—you’re really just gonna coddle him like that? That’s not helping anyone!”

He looks around the room like he expects someone—Hen especially—to back him up. Hen steps forward. Her voice is quiet. Deadly. “Say one more word about him.” Chim straightens, defensive. “Hen, come on—” “One. More. Word.” Buck flinches behind Eddie, and Eddie moves instinctively, shielding Buck with his whole body. Chris glares at Chim like he’s personally offended on Buck’s behalf (which he is).

Chim throws his hands up.

“I’m just trying to help! Someone needs to hold him accountable!”

Bobby’s voice slices clean through the room.

“Chimney.”

The tone is command.

“The office. Now.” Chim blinks.

“For what?”

“For your behavior,” Bobby says. “For attacking a teammate who is clearly in crisis. For continuing after being told to stop. And for creating an unsafe environment.” Chim scoffs. “Oh come on, Bobby—” “No,” Bobby says. “Enough. You’re suspended for the rest of the shift.” Silence Chim turns, stunned, to Hen.

“You’re really not gonna say anything?” Hen folds her arms, unimpressed and furious. “You made things worse for him when he was barely standing. You prioritized being right over being kind. You hurt him. And you’re asking if I’m going to defend you?”He deflates. Hen’s voice is steel.

“No, Howard. I’m standing with my brother.”

later 

Margaret and Phillip arrived with Maddie shortly after, storming into the station like an invading force. Margaret’s eyes fixed on Buck. “Evelina Buckley, you come out here now!” Buck froze at the deadname, but Eddie stepped in front of him, protective. Athena appeared beside them instantly. Maddie’s voice was high-pitched and frantic. “Buck! You can’t keep acting like this! Mom and Dad are right—you’re overwhelmed! Just let me take the baby for a few hours!”

Buck instinctively wrapped the baby closer. “No,” Eddie said quietly but firmly. Margaret sneered. “You’re confused, Evelina. You don’t even know what your kid needs. Clearly, Maddie or I can handle it better.” “No,” Eddie said again, deadly calm. “You refuse to see him. He’s doing everything he can for that baby.”

Margaret’s gaze drops to the baby. “You’re holding him wrong again, Evan. Give him to me—” Buck flinches backward so fast he nearly hits the lockers. Before Margaret can take another step— Athena strides in like judgment day incarnate.

“I suggest,” she says, voice low and dangerous, “that you take several steps back.” Margaret bristles. “This is a family matter—” Athena lifts a hand.“I don’t care if it’s a federal matter. You don’t get to walk in here and put your hands on a firefighter, especially one who clearly does not want contact.”

Maddie tries, “Athena, please—” “No,” Athena snaps. “I have watched this boy break himself trying to earn a kindness you people never gave him. Not here. Not today.”

The station goes silent.

Margaret sputters, “He’s being irrational.” “He’s postpartum,” Hen shoots back, stepping beside Buck. “And overstressed. And unsupported.”Margaret lifts her chin “Well, if he insists on insisting he can ba a man and have a baby he should be able to hold the stress”

Buck jerks like he’s been hit. Maddie jumps in, “Mom just means—” “No.” Hen’s eyes flash. “He doesn’t need your commentary on his body.”Buck’s breathing stutters. His hand presses over his chest protectively.

“It was clogged ,” he whispers. “I could  feel it. I tried to clear it earlier but… I couldn’t. And the dysphoria’s really bad right now. I just— I just want to feed him. It’s better for the baby.”

Margaret huffs.

“Well, if you had just done things the regular way—” Athena steps forward like she’s about to physically remove her.“You’re done,” she says. “Out.” “You can’t—!”

“I can,” Athena says calmly. “And I am.”Phillip steps forward.

“He’s our child—” “Not today,” Bobby says, stepping beside Athena with the quiet fury of a man protecting his own. “Today he’s mine.” Buck makes a small, broken noise at that.

Margaret tries one last time.

“Maddie, say something!”

Maddie looks between Buck crying silently behind Eddie and her parents glaring at her.

She opens her mouth.

Buck’s face falls. Athena sees it—

and that’s it.

She points to the door.

“All three of you. Out. Now.”

With a mix of spluttering indignation and fear of Athena’s wrath, the Buckleys are escorted out the bay doors.

Maddie tries to linger.

“Buck—” Maddie tried to interject. “But I’m his sister—” “And you’ve done nothing to earn that title today,” Athena said, soft but cutting. “Your brother survived your family’s chaos, and you’re not welcome here.”

Maddie sputtered. “I lost Daniel! I deserve attention too! Buck ruined my chance to have a sister! When he wanted to be a boy .” Athena’s gaze didn’t waver. “You sound crazy. You’re not protecting anyone. You’re hurting them.”

Outside, Chim realized Hen wasn’t defending him anymore, and Maddie kept digging, convinced she had the right to take Buck’s baby. Both were met with cold silence from the station’s protective family wall.

Inside, Buck finally collapsed, sobbing into Eddie’s chest, the baby in his arms. Hen , murmuring encouragement, easing both pain and dysphoria. Bobby stayed close, hands reassuring. Christopher curled against him, whispering, “We’re your family, Dad. Not them.”

Buck let himself breathe. Finally, he could. He was safe. He was supported. And for the first time that day, he felt like a father, like himself, and like home.

Chapter Text

after chims suspension 

Buck, Eddie, Hen, Athena, and Bobby are gathered quietly in the lounge. Buck is leaning into Eddie, exhausted and shaky, the baby asleep against Bobby’s chest. Chris sits close, playing with the baby’s tiny fingers.

The doors open again it’s Maddie. She looks wrung-out, eyes red from crying, hair pulled back like she sprinted here. Chim follows her, along with Margaret and Phillip ,Eddie tenses, Hen sighs ,Athena crosses her arms.Bobby stands protectively, baby still tucked safely in his arms.Buck shrinks into Eddie instinctively.

Maddie forces a shaky smile. “Buck… I’m here to apologize.” Buck’s shoulders unclench slightly. Maybe—maybe she means it this time but then Maddie keeps talking. “I just… I know you’re going through a phase of thinking you can be a parent---”

Eddie stiffens like a board.

Hen’s eyes go dangerous.

Athena’s jaw clicks.

But Maddie doesn’t notice.

She keeps going, her voice rising, trying to sound gentle and only sounding patronizing. "And you have so much going on, Buck. Postpartum. Stress. Your identity stuff… Everything’s heightened. I know you probably didn’t mean to hurt Mom and Dad.” Buck’s face drains of color.

Maddie smiles sadly, like she’s comforting a toddler. “And maybe if you weren’t so caught up in looking for attention—” The air freezes. "Having a baby when you spent YEARS insisting you wanted to erase my little sister Evelina from the narrative—” Buck flinches like she stabbed him straight through his chest hearing his deadname Eddie’s hand clamps down on Buck’s thigh protectively.

Athena steps forward so fast her shoes squeak.“Madeline Kendall Buckley Han, watch your mouth.” Maddie blinks. “What? I’m just being honest.” “Honesty,” Athena says sharply, “is not the same as cruelty "

Chim jumps in immediately, defensive. “Okay, let’s all calm down—Maddie’s just emotional. Buck, come on, you know what she means.” Buck opens his mouth but nothing comes out. Chim presses harder. “She’s apologizing. Take it. Don’t make this messy. You always make things messy.”

Buck’s hands start shaking.

Eddie feels it and Eddie Díaz does not do quiet anger.He stands slowly deliberately. And steps between Buck and Chim. “You’re not going to speak to him like that,” Eddie says softly, deadly. Chim rolls his eyes. “Eddie, come on—” “No,” Eddie snaps. “Not another word toward him.”

Buck’s voice comes out tiny.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to erase h-her. I just— I didn’t— I didn’t want to be a girl. I didn’t want— I wasn’t— I felt like my body wasn't mine I couldn't be me as her .”His breathing quickens. Word shaky dysphoria slams into him like a hurricane. “I’m not trying to get attention,” he whispers. “I just… wanted my baby. I wanted to be a parent and have a baby that was half me and half Eddie . I wanted to be me.”

Maddie softens for a second.

“Oh Buck, don’t make this dramatic—” Buck’s head drops as a sob tears out of him. Everything inside him collapses . He curls into himself, into Eddie’s chest, shaking so hard Eddie has to hold him upright. “That’s it,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maddie. Leave. Now.” “What? I’m trying—”“You’re hurting him,” Hen snaps. “So you’re leaving.”

Maddie sputters.

“Buckley family issues aren’t your business—”

Athena takes a step closer, eyes burning. “He is our family,” she says. “And you don’t get to come into his workplace, insult his gender, insult his pregnancy, insult his choices, and tell him he did it for attention. And say Buckley family issues are not our problem.  ”

Chim tries again.“Guys, she SAID she was sorry—” “No,” Bobby cuts in, voice full father-mode now. “She said words she thought would make herself feel absolved. That is not apology. Not here.”

Maddie looks helplessly at Buck. Trying for anything an ounce of hope she can still be in bucks life “Ev… say something.”Buck lifts his head from Eddie’s chest, tear-streaked, eyes red, voice hoarse.

He takes a breath.And for the first time— He sets a boundary. “Get out.” Maddie freezes.

“I said,” Buck repeats, voice breaking but firm,

“Get out. I don’t want to talk to you right now. I don't want to see you or hear from you I am so done ”

“But I’m your sister—” “You stopped being on my side,” Buck says quietly. “And I need people who love me more than they love being right.”Maddie’s face falls. Phillip stepped forward. After being quiet for so long “He can’t raise a child—he’s a man! Maddie and Margaret are more equipped—” Athena stepped between them, voice cold and steady. “Enough. You do not walk into this station and attack Buck —your so called son and family —who has survived hell and built a life for himself and his child despite you.”

Margaret’s face crumpled. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she says  something about “I just… I tried, he was so difficult I never wanted him I wanted Daniel and Maddie I had to have another girl to save Danny and it didn't work and then you try to replace him by trying to be a man !!” before turning on her heel and rushing out of the station, leaving Maddie and Phillip behind. "Maddie lets go" 

 But Maddie stepped closer, chest heaving, red-faced. “You think you’re the victim here?” she spat. “You transition, and now everything changed! If you had just stayed my sister, maybe we could’ve had a real relationship. But no—you erased the last of Danny by be this now, erased your sisterhood, and now everyone has to bend around you! This is all your fault!”

Buck’s chest ached—not just from dysphoria, but from the raw sting of her words. “I’m still your brother, or I thought I was.” he said quietly, voice shaking. “I’m still here. And I’m still the person taking care of my child. You don’t get to decide my body or my life, Maddie.”

Athena, standing firmly behind him, shook her head. “You need to leave, Maddie. Now.” Maddie huffed, frustration boiling, but Margaret’s absence left her powerless. She glared, muttering under her breath as she followed Phillip out of the station, leaving Buck with the people who actually loved and supported him. Chime looked between his wife and the job he loved but as he looked at everyone all he sees Is disappointment, anger, and all around rage so he just bows his head and goes after the woman he chose over the family that always had his back.

Dun dun duuuuuuuu 

I'd I might add to this may not we will seee

Chapter Text

Chimney stared at his phone like it was a diagnosis. The email sat there—white background, black text—saying the thing he already knew, the thing he had been trying not to hear.

MANDATORY EMPLOYMENT REVIEW.

Attendance Required.

Chief Simpson . 0900.

One week had fallen into a gulf. One week since the station had erupted. One week since Maddie and Margaret’s voices had cut across the bay with hate and Buck had folded into himself like paper caught on a flame. One week since Chim had followed her out into the bright winter day, hands in his pockets, thinking he was doing the right thing—because that’s what he always did. He followed. He smoothed. He took the burn so someone else could be whole.

He had not anticipated how fast the station could become an empty room. No calls from Bobby, No texts from Athena with her usual blunt warmth, Hen’s ringtone silent. Eddie had sent him a single, cold message: Do not come near him. No one was sending the jokes that used to puncture his mornings. No one was telling him he’d left his helmet under the dryer. No one was asking if he wanted to go to the barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s nothing.

He swallowed down the panic—a stupid, animal thing—and tried to remember how to be still. He pushed his keys around his fingers until the ring left indentations. He had showers. He had a daughter to pick up later. He had work, people who expected him. And now he had an appointment where his job might be taken from him because of the one thing he’d always convinced himself  Maddie was in the right.

At the chief’s office, the light made the folders on the desk look sterile and final. Chief Simpson folded his hands and read from his notes in a tone that made everything sound like it was being judged from behind glass.

“Mr. Han.”

“Sit.”

Chim obeyed. The chair was too upright, too formal, the kind of seat criminals get put in on cop shows when they’re about to cry. He’d been ashamed before, but that was private. This—this was public and bland and irreversible-scented.

Simpson’s voice moved through a list: statements from every person present, security footage, two civilian complaints. Chim could feel the room narrowing like the closing of a gaol hatch.

“You allowed an emotionally volatile civilians —your wife and in-laws to verbally attack a coworker,” Hale said. “You defended their horrible words . You minimized a firefighter who was in visible distress. You asked him to accept an apology he had explicitly told you did not feel genuine. All of that happened while on duty.After you were already suspended.  ”

Chim tried to say something small—something reasonable. “Chief my wife was upset and—” “Do not speak until I finish.” Shut up, Chim’s mind ordered him, like a teacher in the back of a classroom. He did.

“Effective immediately,” Simpson said, and pushed a sheet of paper toward him, “you are placed on administrative leave pending disciplinary review. Termination is the most possible outcome.”

The words swam into him. Administrative leave. Possible termination. Chim felt every step he had taken away from the office tilt on the axis of his life and become a decision that might cost him a career and, worse, the snug, loud, ordinary love he had taken as granted. Simpson’s mouth softened like a hinge on a heavy door. “You need to think about who you walked away from. And who you ran towards. ”

When the meeting was over, the hallway outside the chief’s door felt like a corridor of glass. Chim walked until he was in the sunlight and away from the building, but the sun seemed wrong. He used to go on calls and come back and someone would clap him on the back and tell him he smelled like smoke, and it made him laugh. Now there was a space where those things used to be—a wrongness in his bones.

Across town, Maddie sat in an administrative office with Sue neither of them had pictured her here. The human-resources woman set a folder down and spoke in a voice whose calm was a scalpel.

“Suspension. Two weeks. Mandatory sensitivity training and therapy hours if not you will be fired .” Maddie’s laugh came out barked and ugly. “You’re kidding. I was trying to get through to him. He had. A baby he made a mistake. This is on him get her fired" she says  with absolute hate and venom. 

Sue gasped astound by Maddie’s words.

Audio had been reviewed, the officer said. There was a tape of Maddie’s voice repeating Buck’s deadname, the officer said. There were witnesses. There were civilians distressed. There were rules, an entire latticework of policy that did not care about what Maddie felt. She signed the paperwork with a pen that shook so hard she nearly dropped it. When she left, she texted Chim: They suspended me. Bullshit. If your “family” acts up, call me. We stick together.

His reply never came.

Chim pulled up at Hen’s house with a stomach that felt like a hollow thing. The porch light washed a small, neat pool against the snow; Denny’s colored lanterns twinkled dimly through the window. For a second Chim thought if he went in and sat at Hen’s kitchen table and apologized—really apologized—it could fix it. Maybe Hen would remind him of that soft, stubborn consistency that had kept both of them afloat in the harder days.

He put a hand to the front door and knocked. The chain clicked back; Hen opened the door a sliver. She looked at him, and the look was not one that invited him in. It was thin and sharp and tired. Hen’s hair was pulled back in a braid like she always did around work. No smile. No easy ease.

“Hen,” he said. “Can you please—” “No,” she answered, the syllable neat and complete. He put his weight on the porch, on the last of his dignity. “I just want to say I’m sorry. I know I messed up.” “You messed up,” Hen said. “You stood there and watched Buck break and you excused her. You told him to take her apology when she was saying vile things Howard. You let him be hurt in his own workplace and tried to smooth it over for Maddie. I don’t know if that’s worse because you didn’t see it or worse because you did.”

He could feel the sentence—no, the judgment in just the name Howard —like a physical thing. He tried something clumsy and human. “I was trying to protect her she was ups-” “By hurting him?” Hen’s eyes flashed. “Howard, how does protecting one person mean you abandon another?” He had no answer. He tried to conjure pleading, the kind of apology that is more than a phrase, but something in Hen’s stance hardened. He put out a hand. She didn’t take it. “Howard,” "please stop saying Howard" she continued, soft now, but no less certain. “You will not be near Denny or Mara. You will not be near me or my wife right now.” 

The words fell like a hand closing on him. He looked toward the window where he’d seen Denny amd Mara earlier, a small, humming blur of life. The notion he could not go inside the house it's like being barred from something he’d helped build by being kind sometimes, by being family for a while.

Karen appeared behind Hen, an all-business presence in slippers. Her phone was in her hand. Her gaze slid from Hen to Chim like someone measuring a threat “Hen,” she said quietly, “if he doesn’t leave, I will call the police.” Chim stumbled back. “You’re—don’t—” Panic made him stupid; his voice rose. “I would never— I would never hurt—” “Leave,” Karen said. “Now.”

The threat of a call to the police might as well have been an axe above his head. He recoiled, feet fumbling down the steps, the winter air burning in his lungs. He turned and ran to his truck before either woman could change their mind. The porch light wavered and then the deadbolt slid. He heard it like a verdict.

In his truck, he slammed the door and held it shut and let himself collapse. He hadn’t realized how fast the panic had risen, how cold and vicious its teeth, until now. His breaths came like little broken things. He needed air. He needed an anchor. He needed someone to tell him he had not wrecked everything.

He pictured Buck. The gentleness of Eddie’s hands when they’d steadied Buck. The way Buck had wrapped himself around Eddie afterwards, like a person trying to form a shelter of skin. Chim had seen Buck tremble. Chim had heard the choked whisper that had come out of him—words about not wanting to erase a sister, about wanting to be a parent, about dysphoria and identity and the ache of belonging. And Chim had minimized it. He had called him messy. He had deflected. He had made it about his own comfort.

He pressed his forehead against the steering wheel and let himself cry—big, animal sobs that he had kept inside his chest for so long. He let the whole thing come out: Maddie’s sharp voice, Athena’s step forward, Eddie’s roar, Hen’s quiet that had become a slammed door. The city hummed around him like a faraway engine. He called no one. There was no name he trusted to save him right now. He had burned that bridge.

When he could breathe without choking, he started the car and drove. He drove with no destination in mind, the lights of the city a smear of neon and taillights. He thought about the dinners he’d shared with Buck, about the first time Buck had brought up transition in a way that had scared him both with its truth and with its fierce calm. He thought about nights when Buck had helped him through the flickering edges of his own messes. He thought about how he had been welcomed into a kitchen and a heart and a life and how he had walked out of the house without checking to see if anyone followed.

The ache insisted on being honest. It was not just losing a job he might love—though that possibility sat cold and bitter in his throat. It was losing the family who’d held him when the rest of the world felt like glass. It was losing the small, ordinary things he’d mistaken for permanence. He realized he had given up people who had shown up for him when he couldn’t show up for himself. He realized that the way he had protected Maddie had been, in the end, a choice to minimize a person in front of others—someone he had once called a brother. It felt like a betrayal you could taste.

When the fuel light flickered on, he pulled into a 24-hour lot and sat watching the dashboard glow. He had no plan. There was no tidy path back. There was only the knowledge that he had to reckon with what he had done, and however that looked—if it meant apologies and time and truth and proving he could be better—he had to try. For Buck. For Eddie. For Hen and Bobby and Athena and the little boy who would not feel safe with him until he deserved to be.

All his life, the 118 had been a second chance place. People showed up for each other there. He had erased that when it mattered. He had chosen the familiar over the right. He had chosen the wrong. And suddenly the idea of showing up and begging sounded hollow. He had no faith he would be accepted. But he knew he had to go to them on their terms, not demand they come back to him. He started the truck again. The city rolled by like a film he couldn’t rewind. He pulled onto the highway.

Maddie slammed the front door behind her, shoes scattering on the floor as Jee’s little boots clattered against the tile. The apartment smelled faintly of leftover baby formula and warm laundry. Maddie’s jaw was tight, and every step she took toward the kitchen seemed to carry the weight of the week.

“Jee, go wash your hands,” she barked, her voice sharper than she intended. The toddler looked up with wide eyes, wobbling slightly as he shuffled toward the bathroom. “Okay, Mama…”

Maddie pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated sigh. She was tired—bone-deep tired—and every little thing was grating on her nerves. The suspension, the fallout at the station, the gnawing feeling that she’d lost control… it was all too much.

“Ugh, this is all Buck’s fault,” she muttered, flopping onto the couch with Jee climbing onto her lap. “If he hadn’t—if he just… let me take the baby and raise it right, none of this would be happening I would still be working .”

Jee tilted his head, blinking innocently. “But uncle Buck is nice, Mama.” Maddie froze. Her grip on her coffee cup tightened so hard she thought she might crush it. “What did you just say?” Jee’s small hand reached up to pat hers gently. “Buck is nice. He helps people. He’s the best.” Maddie’s face flushed, and a low hiss of irritation escaped her. “I don’t care what you think! You don’t understand! He’s… he’s the reason I'm going to lose my job cause he cried !”

Jee frowned, clearly confused, his little brow scrunching. “But Buck takes care of Eddie and the baby and everyone. He’s nice. You're wrong” That was it. Maddie’s hands shot up, tossing the coffee cup onto the side table with a sharp clink. “I said—I said he’s messing everything up! You think he’s nice? You don’t even get it! Jee, you listen to me! He’s the reason I’m stuck at home, stressed out, and everyone’s mad at me!”

Jee’s lower lip trembled slightly. “I… I just like him. He’s nice to Christopher and Eddie. And to me…and his b-baby ”

Maddie’s stomach twisted in frustration. “Well, that’s not how life works, kid! People can be nice and still ruin everything!” Jee blinked up at her, innocence colliding with stubborn honesty. “But Buck is---- o-okay mama" she stopped cause she seen anger on Maddie’s face 

Chapter Text

Three days later, Chimney sat at the kitchen table staring at the envelope.

Los Angeles Fire Department – Employment Status Review.
Inside: a termination letter. Final. Non-negotiable.

It didn’t matter how many years he’d put in.
It didn’t matter how many fires he’d run into.
It didn’t matter how much the 118 once loved him.

He picked the wrong side, and now the consequences were real.

Across the apartment, Maddie slammed cupboards like percussion in a rage-filled symphony. Her phone buzzed on the counter. She snatched it up, read the message, and her whole face twisted.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she snapped.

Chimney didn’t look up. “What now?”

“My supervisor sent another notice,” she spat. “Says she knows I skipped therapy again and if I don’t attend the next mandatory session, I’ll face disciplinary action. I swear to God, Buck ruins everything. If he hadn’t—”

Before her sentence finished, a tiny voice chimed in softly.

“Mama?”

Jee stood in the doorway holding a juice bottle upside down, juice dripping on her pajamas. “I need help…”

Maddie whirled around so fast the kid flinched.

“Jee! Oh my—can you stop making a MESS for one second? I have enough going on without having to constantly clean up after you!”

The toddler froze. Her big eyes went shiny. “Sorry… Mama.”

“That’s all you ever say,” Maddie snapped. “Sorry doesn’t FIX anything!”

Chimney’s head jerked up at the tone. Something cold slid down his spine.

“Maddie,” he warned, “that’s enough. She's a kid”

She ignored him, snatching the juice bottle from their child’s hand. “Why can’t you just do what you’re told?! You make everything ten times harder— god y--”

“MADDIE!” Chimney barked.

Jee took a step back, lower lip trembling.

Chimney didn’t move at first. He just stared at her — really stared — seeing something he hadn’t let himself acknowledge for a long time. The same sharpness she used against Buck. The same obsession with being right at any cost. The same refusal to take responsibility.

And now she was turning that on their child.

He stood slow, deliberate, like Eddie had when he stepped between Buck and Chim.

“Maddie,” Chimney said, voice low and shaking with something close to disgust. “Stop talking to her like that.”

“Oh, don’t start,” she shot back. “I’m stressed, Howie. Everything is falling apart. Therapy notices. My suspension. And you—sitting there sulking because you got fired for defending Buck—”

“For DEFENDING—?” Chim barked out a laugh that didn’t sound human. “Maddie, I didn’t defend Buck. That’s the whole damn problem.”

She froze.

He stepped past her and crouched down in front of Jee. “Hey princess, you okay?”
Jee nodded stiffly, gripping Chim’s sleeve like it was a life raft.

Chim picked her up without another word and turned toward the door.

Maddie stared. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

Chim’s answer was cold enough to freeze the room.

“Somewhere you won’t yell at her for being a kid”

“I wasn’t yelling—!”

“You WERE,” Chim snapped. “You treated her the same way your parents treated Buck when he was a kid. And I will NOT let you talk to Jee like that. I don’t care how ‘stressed’ you are.” Maddie’s jaw dropped, offense blazing. “You’re taking his side AGAIN? After everything? After he humiliated us?”

Chim hugged Jee closer, protective instinct rising for the first time in weeks. “I may have defended you against Buck,” he said, “but I will NOT defend you if you treat our kid like she’s the problem.”Maddie scoffed. “You’re being dramatic she was being needy"

“No,” he said firmly. “I’m being a parent that you think you can be to bucks baby.”

Jee sniffed into his shoulder. “I want Buck,” he whispered. “Buck is nice. He’s always nice.”Maddie’s face went red with fury. “Jee, don’t you start—”“That’s enough.” Chim’s voice cracked like a whip.

He walked to the door.

“Chimney! You can’t just leave! She's my daughter.” He turned, eyes hard — the kind of hard he’d only ever seen from Bobby or Eddie on their worst days.

“I’m taking Jee with me,” he said. “And Maddie? You yell at her like that again, and I WILL file for divorce. And custody.”

She went silent. Angry silent  “You think Buck’s the only one you’ve hurt?” Chim’s voice dropped. “Look around, Maddie. Look really hard. Because you’re running out of people to blame.”He opened the door.

“And if you even THINK of doing to Jee what Margaret did to Buck,” he finished, “I’ll make sure you never get the chance again. You won't see her again.  ”

He walked out before she could reply, Jee clinging to him like the only safe thing left in the room.

And for the first time since the station fallout, Chimney finally understood:
He hadn’t just lost the 118.

He had one chance left — to fix Maddie, — but he can  protect the one person who needed him most. Jee 

Chapter Text

Chim dn’t look back when the apartment door slammed behind him. Jee’s small fingers were fisted in his shirt, her breath wet and shaking against his collarbone. Every instinct in him — every father cell in his body — was vibrating with a single message: Get her away from that.

The echo of Maddie’s voice still rang in his ears. Sharp. Accusing. Cruel in the way she hadn’t been since her own trauma had started to swallow her whole.

But this time, it hadn’t been at him It had been at their daughter. And something in Chim had snapped. He strapped Jee into her booster seat gently, brushing her hair back from her eyes. “You okay, baby?” Jee hiccuped. “She yelled at me.” His chest tightened painfully. “I know. She shouldn’t have.”“She said I’m too much and so much bad stuff about uncle Buck .” Chim drew a long, slow breath to keep his voice steady. “You’re not too much. You’re never too much. I promise. And mommy shouldn't have talked about Buck like that no matter how there relationship is right now.”

Jee’s lip wobbled, and she reached for him again. Chim squeezed her hand before shutting the car door. He sat in the driver’s seat for a long moment, gripping the wheel, letting the burning in his throat settle into something colder. Stronger. Resolve.

“Okay,” he murmured to himself. “Okay. Then this is what we’re doing. We are getting a hotel till we find something permanent ” "ok". That night, he filed the paperwork two days later, Maddie got the envelope.And that was when the panic started.

BUCK 

She showed up at Buck’s apartment door like a storm had ripped her open and spit her out. Buck knew the look — the frantic, wild-eyed desperation he used to see in mirrors when he was younger, when their parents made him feel like a stain on their perfect world.

He didn’t invite her in. She trys pushed past him anyway. “Buck, please let me in  — Chim filed for  divorce and custody,” she said, voice trembling. “He’s trying to take my daughter. You have to help me.” Buck stared at her like she’d grown a second head.

“Why,” he said flatly, “would I ever help you with that?” Maddie blinked, confused — genuinely confused — like this conversation should be going another way. Like Buck should be rushing to reassure her, rushing to fix things like he always did.

“Because I’m your sister,” she whispered. “And he’s trying to take my baby.” Buck’s laugh was short and humorless. “You tried to take my baby.” Her jaw clenched. “That was— that was different. You had the baby for attention I love my daughter ” “No,” Buck snapped. “ You asked me to give up my child because you thought you knew better. You told me I wasn’t ready. You told me I’d screwing up then you turned around and what yell at your kid the way your parents yelled me.”

He stepped closer, fury simmering dangerously low. “You think I’m going to help you keep Jee after that?” Maddie’s eyes burned. “Buck, I didn’t mean—” “I don’t care what you meant,” Buck said, voice going cold. “I care what you did. And you did this. To Jee. To me to everyone who doesn't listen to you blindly.”

When Maddie standing on Buck’s porch , begging him for help, Buck didn’t just see the sister he lost. He saw every version of her that had hurt him without ever noticing. “Maddie, you need to listen to me,” Buck said, voice tight. “Because this isn’t just about Jee. This is about years of you making everything about yourself.”

Maddie frowned, offended. “That’s not fair—” “No?” Buck’s voice cracked, not with anger but with exhaustion. “Let’s start at the beginning then.” He didn’t yell. He didn’t need to. His voice was steady and sharp — a scalpel cutting through years of wounds she refused to look at.

“When I came out to you, I was terrified. Terrified Mom and Dad would find out, terrified I’d lose everything, terrified I wasn’t enough. And you—” “I supported you—” Maddie tried. “No,” Buck corrected. “You panicked. You said you were scared of losing your sister . You said it would be ‘hard for you.’ You cried about how you didn’t know how to explain it to your friends. You made my transition something you needed time to process.”

Maddie’s face paled. “And I let you,” Buck whispered. “Because I thought that was love.” He swallowed hard. “When I started hormones, who did you worry about? Mom. Dad. The family. What they would think. You told me to ‘go slow,’ to ‘not rush’ because it might be stressful for you. Now I realize it was cause of Daniel like always like my whole life.  ”

“Buck—” “When I started changing? When I cut my hair? When my voice dropped?” He laughed bitterly. “You said you missed your sister. You said it felt like you were losing someone but it was that I started to look like him didn’t I but I -I was here I was alive and you hated me for it. ” 

Maddie’s eyes stung.

“You made my transition into your grief,” Buck said quietly. “You didn’t ask how I felt. You never asked if I was scared or excited or happy. You never asked if I needed help. You only asked how it affected you.”

He stepped back, breathing out shakily.

“And then my pregnancy.”

Her head dropped into her hands. "Plea-"

“No,” Buck said sharply, “look at me. You need to hear this. I need to know you hear me.”

She lifted her gaze eye sad but defiance is stronger

“You acted like I’d inconvenienced you. Like my pregnancy was something you had to carry. You said I was ruining my life. You asked me if I was sure I should keep the baby with wanting to me a man. You told me I wasn’t ready. That maybe someone else should raise him.”

Maddie’s breath caught.

“You told me I wasn’t stable enough,” Buck whispered. “You called me emotional. Overreactive. You blamed my hormones. You kept comparing me to Mom. To Dad. And saying this was for attention ” His jaw clenched.

“And then you cried,” he said, “because being a supportive sister was ‘so stressful.’ You said you didn’t know how to help. You said you weren’t ready to 'raise ' my child . You said you were afraid Mom and Dad would judge you because I was becoming a father.”

Maddie curled inward. “But the worst part?” Buck leaned in, voice trembling. “You said I was being needy.” Those were the words Chim would later hear thrown at Jee. “I was pregnant, Maddie,” Buck whispered harshly. “Terrified. Trying to do everything right. And you told me I was too much.”

Maddie’s tears spilled.

“And now,” Buck said softly, “you’re doing the exact same thing to your daughter most likely so I'm not helpingyou keep her to destroyher child hood with your own shit.”

She shook her head fiercely. “Jee isn’t— I’m not— it was just one time—” “It wasn’t one time for me,” Buck cut in. “It was years. Years of you taking your pain out on me and calling it love. Years of you making me responsible for your emotions. Years of you expecting me to put your comfort above my happiness.”

He stepped back, eyes hard. “And all of that?” he said. “All of that is why I’m not helping you.”

Maddie reached for him, begging. “Buck, I’m your sister—”

“No,” he said. “Not like this. Not anymore.”His voice lowered to a razor edge.“Go fuck yourself.” She flinched.“And deal with the consequences,” he finished. “Just like I did. Just like Jee will have to if you don’t change.” “Maddie,” he said, “you treated me like a burden my whole life. So now someone seen you treat your kid like that. I don't have to help you with shit.” She froze, breath caught in her throat. The door shut and Maddie finally broke.

Tears gathered in her eyes, but Buck didn’t soften. Not this time. “I need your support,” she whispered.And through the door

Maddie froze.

“I’m done with you,” he said quietly. “I’m done giving you chances. I’m done letting you hurt people and calling it stress. You want help? Deal with the consequences you created.”

She stepped forward, reaching for him. “Buck, please—” the door snapped open once more he shook his head, expression carved from stone. “go back to Margaret and Phillip cry to them make them feel bad I don't give a flying fuck I have a babyboy  to love and take care of.”

And for the first time since childhood, Maddie felt the full weight of losing her little brother again .This time, he wasn’t running back like always ,ready to help her .

MARGARET & PHILLIP 

There were still two people who would listento her.

Her parents answered the door like she was the prodigal daughter. Phillip practically guided her into the living room with a warm, relieved hand on her back. Margaret sat up straighter, eyes sharp with concern.

“Maddie, sweetheart, what’s happened?” “Chim’s trying to take Jee away from me, because of a mistake ” Maddie cried. “I need you both. I need help.” Margaret’s mouth pinched. “He can’t do that. You’re her mother.” Phillip nodded firmly. “No judge would ever—”

A brisk knock cut him off. Maddie’s heart plummeted. Chim walked in like a man with purpose. Not anger — purpose. The kind that came with truth backing it. “Howard, what are you doing here?” Margaret snapped.

Chim’s eyes flicked to her. “I’m here because you rewired your daughter to believe screaming at a child is normal. And it’s not.” Margaret sputtered. “Excuse me—” He ignored her, gaze landing on Maddie. “I’m giving you one chance,” he said. “One chance to admit what you did. To apologize. To try. Because if you don’t?”

He held up his phone. Maddie’s blood ran cold,The audio played. Her yelling. Her calling Jee needy. Too much. Her voice dripping with the same poison Margaret used on Buck. Jee’s crying. Maddie’s sharp, explosive: “Stop crying! You always do this".The room felt suddenly too small, too sharp, too exposed. “You recorded me?” Maddie whispered, betrayed.

“Yes,” Chim said. “Because I knew you’d say I exaggerated. Or that you were stressed. Or that it wasn’t that bad and cry to make others feel bad. So I recorded it.” He pocketed the phone. “That recording is going to the lawyer.” Maddie’s legs gave out, and she sank onto the couch, staring at the floor like she could force it to swallow her whole.

“You can’t take her,” she whispered, hating how it trembled. Chim swallowed. “Watch me.”Margaret shot to her feet. “You can’t threaten my daughter!” Chim looked her dead in the eye. “I’m not threatening her,” he said. “I’m protecting mine.” Margaret stepped forward. “Jee belongs with her mother.”

Chim didn’t even blink. “If Maddie keeps yelling at her like you yelled at Buck? Then she belongs with me. look I fucked up multiple times  like with the punch when you just had jee  and yes I still think he should have told me and with the whole fucking firestation shit I lost my job Maddie and it's not all your fault but I went along with you for to long I lost my best friend she wouldn't look at me that day can't make up for it by pushing myself into people's lives I may be a ass but I know I will always put my daughter before any grudge I have against anyone including Buck and you three.”

The silence after that was nuclear. Phillip sat slowly, shame creeping over his face. Maddie stared at Chim, hollow and terrified, a woman who suddenly realized she could actually lose everything — not because of anyone else, but because of she acts like everyonehas to bend to her will .

“Please,” she whispered, breaking. “Howie , please. I can fix this. I can do better. Don’t take her from me don't leave . I will leave Buck alone we all will I won't say anything about him to jee. Dont leave me please" 

Chim hesitated — for half a second — but it wasn’t enough. He shook his head. “no that isn't what this is about, Buck can take care of himself. He always had .” he said finally. “This is protection. For Jee. And for me. And maybe someday you’ll get to be part of that again.i don’t know but right now you are dangerous.  ” “howie—” He turned toward the door.

“Jee asked for Buck,” he added, not cruelly — just honestly. “Because she feels safe with him. Because she doesn’t cry around him.” Maddie choked on a sob. “And until you can give her that? You won’t get her back. See you in court Maddie ” The door clicked behind him. The apartment stayed silent.

Margaret finally spoke, grasping Maddie’s hands. “It’ll be okay,” she murmured. “We’ll fix this. We won’t let them take her you will have a great lawyer.” But Maddie heard Chim’s recording. She heard her own voice cruel sharp familiar — too familiar. She heard Jee crying.

And she knew: This time, her parents couldn’t save her. This time, she was actually alone and for the first time in her life, no one listened to her pity party not after screaming at jee her baby "this is all bucks fault" she whispered 

Chapter Text

Chim sat in the small, sterile office, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles ached. He wasn’t used to waiting. He wasn’t used to being on someone else’s timetable. But today, he had no choice. Jee was at stake. Everything was at stake.

The lawyer, a sharp-eyed woman with a no-nonsense tone, slid a file across the desk. “Mr. Han,” she said, “we’ve gone through your options. I’ll be blunt: your grocery job, your consistency in caring for Jee, your ability to provide a stable environment — those weigh heavily in your favor. Ms Buckley refusal to follow court-mandated therapy, her ongoing harassment, her delusions — those work against her.” Chim swallowed. His throat was dry. “So… I have a good chance?”

She didn’t soften. “You can have her. But only if you present yourself responsibly. Only if you don’t get pulled into Ms Buckley theatrics. Only if you stick to facts. No excuses, no justifications, no anger. This isn’t about what she deserves — it’s about Jee’s safety and best interest.” Chim nodded slowly, absorbing it. “I… I understand.”

The lawyer leaned back, sharp gaze never leaving him. “And you need to stay away from anyone who wants you to cave. If the Buckleys show up and start screaming, you don’t engage. You. Stick. To. The. Facts.”

He clenched his fists under the desk. “I can do that. I will do that. I just… I don’t want her to hurt Jee anymore. I can’t let her justifywhat her parents did growing up .” “Good,” the lawyer said. “Because if you try to justify your past behavior, if you start defending yourself, if you… soften your stance for anyone else, you risk everything. You have to be unflinching, Chim. Honest. Responsible. And focused entirely on Jee.”

Chim exhaled slowly, a weight settling in his chest. He had trained for this in a way — controlling what he could, staying sharp, staying calm — but this? This was entirely different. The stakes weren’t his pride or his career. The stakes were his daughter. The lawyer closed the file and stood. “Courtroom starts in thirty minutes. I’ll meet you there. And Chim?”He looked up, already tense.

“Tell the truth. All of it. Don’t leave anything unsaid just because it’s messy or uncomfortable. The judge respects honesty. That’s your leverage.”Chim nodded, swallowing hard. He stood, muscles taut with anticipation. He felt the familiar hum of adrenaline, but it wasn’t excitement. It was focus, sharp as a blade. He couldn’t let Maddie control the narrative. He couldn’t let anyone twist the story. He had to protect Jee, and that meant owning every uncomfortable truth, no matter what it cost.

As he left the office, his lawyer beside him, he felt a strange calm. This was it. The courtroom. Maddie. Delusions, lies, entitlement, and chaos. And Chim? He would meet it all with one goal: Jee’s safety. The courtroom smelled of polished wood and tension. Chim walked in, lawyer beside him, shoulders squared. His hands didn’t shake, but every nerve in his body was alert. This wasn’t about him. This was about Jee.

Across the room, Maddie leaned against the railing, hair perfect, smile sharp, eyes glinting with entitlement. She looked ready to argue, to manipulate, to bend the narrative around herself — exactly what Chim had expected.

The judge called the court to order, his gavel sharp against the wood. “We are here for the custody hearing regarding Jee Holt,” he said, voice carrying calm authority. “I will remind all parties that this court seeks the child’s best interest. Past actions, present behavior, and demonstrated responsibility will all be considered.”

Maddie shot to her feet, voice like a whip.

“You can’t just take her from me!” she barked. “She’s my daughter!”

Chim stayed seated, breathing slow and steady. His lawyer gave him a slight nod — ignore her, stick to facts.

The judge raised a hand. “Ms. Buckley, please. You will have a chance to speak, but this court will not tolerate interruptions. Mr. Han, you will also be heard. And before we begin, I want to address both parties’ past actions. This includes Mr. Han striking Mr. Buckley- Diaz after your pregnancy, Ms. Buckleys disappearance afterward, and the subsequent treatment of all parties involved. The court has considered these actions in the context of your present ability to parent.”

Maddie’s mouth opened. “Wait I didn't do th—”

“No, you will remain seated until you are asked to speak,” the judge said firmly. Chim felt the familiar sting of guilt flicker — yes, he had reacted physically, yes, he had lost control. But this wasn’t about self-justification. This was about Jee.

The judge continued: “This court also acknowledges ongoing harassment, refusal to follow recommended therapy, and repeated attempts to manipulate situations surrounding a new born baby . These factors will weigh heavily in determining custody.”

Maddie flinched, eyes narrowing. “That’s not true! I—”

Chim’s lawyer whispered: Now. Stick to facts. No excuses.

Chim inhaled. His voice was steady, clear, low: “Your Honor, I will speak honestly. Maddie believes she should be the parent of that baby . She believes her actions, her lies, her harassment, her refusal to seek therapy… somehow make her entitled. She has repeatedly put my daughter in stressful situations. She has manipulated and harassed people to get what she wants. And when challenged, she tries to control the narrative instead of taking responsibility.”

Maddie jumped to her feet, hands shaking. “You can’t say that! Stop!  You are the same way I—” Judge Harrison slammed the gavel. “Ms. Buckley, I will not warn you again. Sit down.” Maddie’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she obeyed, glowering.

Chim continued, unwavering. “I did engage in harassment but stopped when I lost my job. But I have maintained a stable environment for Jee. I have remained focused on her well-being and avoided those who wish to pressure me or turn this against me. I am presenting myself responsibly because my sole concern is her safety. And while I have flaws — yes, I reacted poorly in the past — I am accountable for them and will not allow them to harm my daughter again.”

The courtroom was silent. Maddie’s face was red, her jaw tight, her hands gripping the bench. But Chim felt something he hadn’t before: the judge’s respect. A recognition that he was speaking the truth, owning his actions, and prioritizing his daughter above all else.

Maddie whispered, desperate, “You can’t—”

Judge Harrison cut her off with a sharp glance. “Mr. Han , continue.”

Chim exhaled and went on, fact by fact, laying bare Maddie’s delusions, entitlement, and repeated disregard for Jee’s emotional safety. He didn’t embellish. He didn’t apologize for her manipulations. He simply told the truth — every uncomfortable, messy detail, every lie she had tried to construct, every consequence she had ignored.

For the first time, Chim felt fully in control. Not over her. Not over the courtroom. But over the one thing that mattered most: his daughter’s life.

Maddie’s voice cut through the courtroom again, sharp and insistent.

“You’re just mad, Howie,” she spat. “You’re angry because your best friend Hen won’t talk to you anymore. You’re twisting everything, making this about your grudges! You wanted the baby away from Buck to you told me.”

Chim stayed seated, hands folded, eyes on the table. His lawyer’s jaw was tight, reminding him silently: Facts. Only facts. No argument. No emotion. Maddie stepped closer, trying to get through the space between them a balif stops her . “We could have figured this out if Buck hadn’t made such a big deal out of nowhere! I just wanted the ki--"

“Ms. Buckley,” the judge’s voice cut like a knife. “That baby is your brother’s child — Buck’s baby. And Eddie is the other father. Not yours. That right there nearly made me question who gets custody of your real daughter, the one you birthed and then left alone for a month. Your  ex husband physically assaulted Mr. Buckley-Diaz after your disappearance — after you told Buck you were leaving  to take care of chim for you. You are not absolved of responsibility for that. Sit down.”

Maddie’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but the gavel’s weight and the judge’s calm authority held her in check. She tried again, desperate, leaning toward Chim. “I just wanted what’s best for my so—” “Ms. Buckley!” Chim’s lawyer interjected, firm. “Step back. He is speaking for his daughter. You are creating chaos. Sit.” Maddie refused to comply fully, her face red, her voice rising. “He doesn’t get to say what’s best for her! She’s my daughter! You can’t just—”

Chim finally spoke, voice low, measured, like a blade cutting through the air. “She’s your daughter biologically, yes. But you abandoned her for a month. You refused therapy, refused guidance, and repeatedly endangered her emotional well-being over a childthat isn't yours I went along with it cause you were stressed out and my wife You do not get to decide what’s best while doing everything to prove you’re unfit. You want to lie to control the room. I’m telling the truth" the courtroom fell silent. Maddie opened her mouth, flustered, flailing, but the judge didn’t flinch.

Judge Harrison leaned forward, voice calm but absolute. “Mr.han , you are allowed to speak. Ms. Buckley, you will remain silent unless addressed directly. Any further attempts to interrupt will result in removal from the courtroom.”

Maddie’s hands curled into fists, shaking. The red in her face deepened. “This isn’t fair! You’re twisting—”

Chim’s eyes didn’t waver. “I’m stating facts. That’s all. I will not allow my daughter’s life to be manipulated by lies or delusions. Not now. Not ever.” The lawyer nodded subtly to Chim, proud of his restraint and clarity. Maddie’s fury burned hotter with each statement, but the courtroom, the judge, and the truth itself formed an unbreakable wall around Chim and Jee.

When final arguments were called, Chimney’s attorney rose. He buttoned his suit jacket, stepped forward with the calm confidence of a man who knew the evidence had already won. “Your Honor,” he began, “this case is not about punishing Ms. Buckley. It is about protecting a child who has been placed repeatedly in situations of instability, emotional volatility, and neglect—documented by hospital reports, witness statements, and Ms. Buckley’s own testimony.”

He paced the length of the table, slow and deliberate. “Mr. Han has been Jee-Yun’s primary caregiver. He has provided structure, emotional regulation, medical care, and consistency. Ms. Buckley, despite loving her daughter, has demonstrated an ongoing pattern of impulsivity, avoidance of clinical support, and hostility toward co-parenting that has directly compromised the child’s well-being.”

He paused beside Chim.

"We do not deny Ms. Buckley’s struggles. We do not deny her love. But love, without accountability, does not make a safe parent. Mr. Han is not seeking to erase Ms. Buckley. He is seeking to protect their daughter.” A beat. Then the final strike. “We ask this court to grant Mr. Han primary physical and legal custody, with supervised visitation for Ms. Buckley until she has demonstrated meaningful, consistent progress.”

When he sat, the courtroom held its breath. Maddie’s attorney rose next, rattled but trying to maintain composure. “Your Honor… Ms. Buckley acknowledges her mistakes. But the narrative painted today frames her as a danger when she is a mother under exceptional stress—stress exacerbated by Mr. Han’s unilateral decisions, and the emotional strain of co-parenting during medical and professional crises.”

Maddie sniffed harshly, glaring at Chim like he’d personally set fire to her life. “Ms. Buckley has sought to reconnect with her daughter,” her attorney continued. “She has attempted reconciliation. To remove her rights— to suggest she is unfit— is an unfair overreach that punishes her for being imperfect. Jee-Yun deserves both her parents.” She sat, tension pulsing behind her eyes. Judge Harrison folded her hands, exchanged a glance with the clerk, and then looked at Chim.

“Mr. Han, the evidence overwhelmingly demonstrates that you have been the stable, consistent caregiver. Your testimony was clear, supported by documentation, and corroborated by hospital professionals and family services.” Maddie inhaled sharply—too loudly—and froze when the judge’s eyes flicked in her direction.

“As for Ms. Buckley,” the judge continued, “you exhibit undeniable love for your child. But the emotional instability, refusal to engage in therapy, documented outbursts, and repeated instances of placing Jee-Yun at risk—combined with your confrontational behavior in this very courtroom—demonstrate that you are not presently equipped to serve as her primary guardian.” “No… no, no—” Maddie whispered, shaking her head.

Judge Harrison did not pause. “Primary physical and legal custody of Jee-Yun Han is granted to Mr. Howard Han.” Chim exhaled, shoulders trembling, as if the breath had been trapped there for months. “Ms. Buckley will receive supervised visitation at a court-approved center, pending proof of consistent therapy, anger management completion, and a six-month period without incident.”Maddie gasped, her face crumpling. “You can’t— You can’t just take her!” she cried. “I’m her mother!”

“Ms. Buckley,” Judge Harrison warned, “if you do not calm yourself, you will be escorted out.” “It’s not fair,” Maddie whispered, tears streaking. “You don’t understand… I was trying. I was trying.” Chim looked at her—not cruel, not triumphant—just exhausted. “I hope one day you really mean that,” he said quietly. She recoiled like he’d struck her. The Buckleys were on her in a heartbeat. Margaret hissed, “This is outrageous. Howard, you should be ashamed of yourself. Ripping a child from her mother? From our family?”

Phillip nodded stiffly. “You’re punishing her for having emotions. Maddie is sensitive. Passionate. And you’ve always held that against her.” Chim met their eyes with a calm that only enraged Margaret further. “Jee’s safety isn’t vindictive.” Margaret stepped closer, voice dripping venom. “You will regret doing this to her.” “No,” Chim said simply. “I’ll regret it if I don’t protect my daughter.”

Phillip muttered something about “outsiders meddling in Buckley affairs,” earning an incredulous snort from the clerk. “You can scream all you want,” Chim told them. “But you weren’t there for a single appointment. A single emergency. A single night she cried because her mother disappeared.” Silence fell—cold and definitive. “You don’t get to rewrite this,” he said. “Not anymore.”

When the judge dismissed the court, Chim didn’t smile. He didn’t celebrate. He just closed his eyes and breathed—a long, trembling, almost disbelieving breath. Wishing he could celebrate his victory with his BFF but For the first time in a long time, his daughter was safe.And that was enough

Chim didn’t say anything when he buckled Jee into her car seat. He was too afraid his voice might break. Jee looked up at him with her big, curious eyes. “Daddy?” she asked softly, like she could feel something shifting in the air.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Chim whispered, crouching to her level. She pressed her small hand to his cheek. “You look sad was it mommy .”He shook his head gently. “Not sad. Just… relieved.” She tilted her head, thinking hard in that way only toddlers could. “We home now?” “Yeah,” he breathed. “We’re going home.”

When they got inside the small apartment , Jee slipped off her shoes, toddled straight to the foo tan, and patted the seat beside her. “Daddy sit.” He did. And when she crawled into his lap, curling against his chest like she always had when she didn’t feel safe, something inside him cracked open. “You stay?” she whispered. “You no leave?”

Chim’s arms tightened around her as tears burned his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, baby girl. I promise.” She nodded like she understood. “Okay. Good.” She hugged him. A small, soft, absolute trust. And for the first time in months, Chim let himself believe everything might be okay he has his baby girl safe he's got a job may not be the one he seen himself having but it's helped protect his daughter.

(Now to Buck and the kids)

Buck wasn’t expecting trouble. He was pushing the stroller with the baby inside, Chris walking beside him—talking about school, excitedly waving a stick like it was Excalibur—and appreciating the rare quiet Saturday morning. He should’ve known peace never lasted long in his life.

“Of course,” he muttered when he saw Maddie marching toward him from across the park. Her hair was wild, her expression worse, and she was walking with purpose—the kind that meant Buck was in trouble whether he deserved it or not. Chris noticed first. “Uh… Buck? Incoming.” Maddie didn’t even say hello. “What did you tell the court?” she snapped, stopping right in front of him. “What did you and Chim say to make them take my daughter away from me?”

Buck blinked. “Maddie—what? I didn’t even testify I don't talk to Chim.” “You didn’t have to.” Her voice cracked, then sharpened. “Your silence is the same as choosing his side over me .” Chris stepped subtly between them, protective without even thinking about it. The baby stirred in the stroller.

“Maddie,” Buck said carefully, “this isn’t the place—” “You think you’re a better parent than me? Walking around with your perfect little family? Showing off your mistakes ” She gestured wildly at Chris and the stroller, accusation dripping from each word. “You don’t know what it’s like to be judged—” “Maddie,” Buck said firmly, “I do know. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Jee. And Chim did what he had to to pro—” “Don’t you dare defend him!” Maddie practically shouted.

The baby startled awake, beginning to cry. Chris flinched. Buck’s protective instincts snapped into place instantly. “That’s enough,” he said, voice hardening. “You don’t get to yell in front of my kids. Cause someone finally tells you that you are unstable. And see you for the bitch that you turned into just like your mother Madeline ” Maddie froze—shocked, hurt, furious.

 “I lost my daughter,” she whispered. Buck said honestly. “ I am not going to let you take it out on these two cause you think you deservemy kids after losing yours.” He gently rocked the stroller, soothing the baby while Chris kept a hand on his arm. Maddie swallowed hard, looking between them—anger, exhaustion, then into something hollow. For a moment, she looked like she didn’t know where to go. Then she turned away and walked off,.

Buck stood there long after she left. Chris squeezed his arm. “You okay?” Buck let out a breath. “…Yeah. You?” Chris nodded. “Yeah. But she shouldn’t have yelled like that. You didn't even know they went to court ” “You’re right,” Buck said, pulling him in for a side hug. “She shouldn’t have. And I didn't ” He kissed the baby’s head, grounding himself. “You two are my whole world,” he whispered. And the park, finally, exhaled. As they walked back to the car. 

Chapter Text

Chim never imagined he’d end up working as a cashier at a grocery store, but the job kept the bills paid and Jee safe in daycare. For now, that had to be enough. “Next in line,” he called, scanning a woman’s items with a smile that felt more like a mask than anything real. When he looked up and saw who stepped forward, the mask almost slipped.

Bobby. Hen. Eddie. All three together, grocery baskets in hand, still in their 118 jackets, still moving in that unspoken rhythm that came from years of working as a team. “Hey,” Chim said, voice cracking with hope. “Wow. It’s—it’s really good to see you guys.” Hen set her basket down without meeting his eyes. Bobby gave the faintest nod. Eddie didn’t say anything at all.

Chim tried again. “How’s… everything? The station. Calls. Life.” “Fine,” Bobby said shortly. That was it. One syllable. Chim swallowed. “Look, I know things got messy. But you know me. I never meant—” “Howard,” Hen said, and the name made him flinch, “we’re not here to talk. Just ring up the groceries.” No nickname. No softness. Chim straightened. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I had to protect my daughter—”

Eddie’s voice cut in, low and cold. “Protecting her from who? Because the only person Jee’s scared of right now isn’t any of us.” Chim’s throat tightened. “Eddie… come on. Don’t—” Bobby shook his head, firm but not unkind. “We’re not doing this here.” Their groceries were bagged. Paid for. Done. And they walked away without a goodbye. Chim stood there long after the next customer cleared their throat.

“Sir? You okay?” He forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… long morning.” But it wasn’t the morning. It was the loneliness.

---

The CPS visitation room was designed to feel safe. Soft rugs. Plush toys. Bright posters on the walls. None of it helped. Jee clung to the caseworker’s leg the moment Maddie walked in. “Hi, sweet girl,” Maddie said, trying for gentle. Her smile was brittle. “Come here. Give Mommy a hug.” Jee shook her head fast, eyes filling with fear.

“It’s okay,” the caseworker soothed. “She may need a moment.”Maddie crouched, hands trembling. “Jee-Yun. Come to Mommy. It’s okay, peanut.”Jee whimpered and pressed her face into the caseworker’s hip.A crack split across Maddie’s expression. “Sweetheart,” she tried again, voice tight, “Mommy said come here.”

Jee’s tiny shoulders jumped at the tone. “Maddie,” the caseworker warned quietly, “remember the guidelines. No raised voice.” “I’m not raising it,” Maddie snapped—then immediately winced. “I just—I need her to come here.” The caseworker placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “She chooses the contact. You don’t force it.”

Maddie swallowed hard, eyes darting between them—between the little girl who used to run into her arms and the stranger she felt like now. “Baby…” Maddie whispered. “Do you love Mommy?” The caseworker stiffened. “Maddie. Absolutely not. No prompting emotional statements.”

“Why not?!” Maddie burst out, voice wobbling with grief and rage. “Why can’t she say she wants to come home with me?! Why can’t she tell the truth?!” Jee began to cry, a soft, frightened wail that filled the whole room. “No—no, shh—shh,” Maddie said, reaching out but stopping when Jee recoiled. “Jee, don’t be scared of me. Please don’t—”

“You need to stop,” the caseworker said, stepping protectively in front of Jee. “You’re frightening her.” “I’m her MOTHER!” Maddie screamed. “Everything I’ve done—everything I’ve lost—and now she won’t even LOOK at me?!” Jee sobbed harder, hands clamped over her ears. “This isn’t fair,” Maddie cried. “You all poisoned her against me. Chim. Buck. Everyone. You took my daughter!”

Chim’s chest tightened. He’d been standing silently against the wall, hoping he could avoid being seen, avoid confrontation—but now her voice hit him like a punch. He opened his mouth to speak, and in a flash of frustration and fear for Jee, he raised his voice slightly. “Maddie!” His tone cut sharper than he intended. “Stop! You’re scaring her!” Jee jumped, trembling against the caseworker, tiny hands clutching her legs. Chim’s stomach dropped. “I… I can’t—” he muttered under his breath, suddenly panicked. “Can we… can you just bring Jee to the car?”

The caseworker nodded quickly. “Of course, Chim. Come on, sweet girl.” She scooped Jee into her arms, calming her as they moved toward the door. Maddie’s face twisted in rage. “You can’t just leave! You can’t take her away from me like this!” Chim met her eyes for a brief moment. “I’m keeping her safe,” he said quietly, exhausted, guilt and frustration warring inside him.

“You’re a coward!” Maddie yelled as he stepped past her. “A coward! You’ll never protect her the way I would!” Chim didn’t reply. He just walked, chest tight, heart breaking, carrying the weight of his choices, leaving Maddie screaming in the visitation room while Jee clung safely to the caseworker’s arms.

---

in the Diaz house 

Buck lay on the living room rug with the baby kicking beside him and Chris perched cross-legged at his side, proudly retelling a school story. After everything with Maddie at the park, the quiet felt healing.

The baby rolled onto his side. Chris gasped dramatically. “BUCK! BUCK LOOK!” Buck sat up fast. “Buddy—are you trying to roll? Are you showing off?” The baby wiggled, struggled… and then—

He rolled fully onto his stomach.

Chris shot his hands up in triumph. “HE DID IT! HE DID IT!”

Buck laughed, breath catching in his throat. “Look at you! Look at you go!”

The baby lifted his head, tiny face scrunched in determination. Then he looked up at Buck—really looked—eyes bright. The world stopped Chris froze Buck froze. Buck’s breath hitched so hard it hurt. Tears blurred his vision instantly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered, scooping the baby into his arms. “You rolled over .” Chris beamed. “He picked you. I wonder how dad will react ” Buck pressed his lips to the baby’s hair, voice trembling. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you so much.” Healing wasn’t loud.
Sometimes it was one tiny word spoken with absolute trust.

---

at Chim’s apartment

That night, Chim sat alone at the small kitchen table. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. No badge on the counter. No laughter in the hallway. No friends.

He opened his phone.

He typed to his lawyer:

**If I keep custody, can I legally relocate out of state with Jee? Need to know my options.**

His thumb hovered over the send button.

Leaving L.A.
Leaving the memories.
Leaving the judgment leave the friends and family he had taken for granted It didn’t feel like running. It felt like freedom.  He hit send and didn’t look back just looks at the door his daughter sleeps behind. "You are all I have I won't let Maddie hurt you"

Chapter Text

Chim stared at the email from his lawyer, blinking in the dim light of the kitchen." Yes, you can relocate out of state with Jee. You will need to attend court again to finalize any changes."

Relief collided with dread. Freedom was possible—but it came with strings. Strings he hadn’t asked for, and yet couldn’t ignore. He looked down at Jee, sleeping peacefully in her crib, her tiny hands curled near her mouth. Her eyelashes brushed her cheeks, and for a moment Chim allowed himself to imagine a life without Maddie’s shadow over them—just the two of them, safe.

I’m only protecting my daughter. That’s all that matters. He hit reply before doubt could creep in, “Understood. Please prepare for the next court date.” Then he silenced his phone, bracing for the storm to come.

By the time Maddie found out, she was incandescent. Her calls came first, sharp and relentless. Margaret and Phillip followed, leaving voicemail after voicemail filled with venom. “You can’t take her!” Margaret spat “She needs her mother!” Phillip growled. “You think you’re protecting her? You’re selfish! You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”

Chim let it ring in the void, tightening his grip on the phone while Jee stirred. He blocked the numbers after the third message. Enough. Their poison didn’t get to touch this quiet moment, this fragile peace with his choices  Maddie stormed into the courtroom, her face red, veins tight at her temples. Margaret and Phillip hovered behind her like sentinels of rage. Maddie had prepared evidence—or at least what she thought would work—twisting old text messages and half-truths into claims that Chim was unfit to care for Jee or take her anywhere without her .

“You see, Your Honor,” Maddie said, voice sharp, “Mr. Han has a history—” The judge raised a hand, silencing her. “Enough,” the judge said firmly, eyes locking on Chim. “Mr. Han, you may relocate your daughter anywhere you choose. The only condition is that Ms. Buckley and her parents must have no contact with Jee. They are not safe to be around a child so young." "Where are you thinking" "Korea I have family there"  "I hope you find what you are looking for.”

The courtroom gasped. Maddie’s face went pale, then red with fury. Her mother muttered something about injustice; her father slammed his fist against the bench "no you are making a mistake taking my daughter’s baby from her he can't leave if he wants to leave give her the kid", the words that didn’t make  the judge flinch or rethink. Chim felt a small, quiet vindication in the judge’s words. He glanced at Jee, brushing a loose curl from her forehead. She cooed, entirely oblivious to the chaos, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Maddie opened her mouth to argue, but the judge’s stare pinned her down. Every word she tried to push forward fell flat, dismissed as irrelevant. Chim’s heart thrummed with the quiet satisfaction of knowing the court saw what he had always known: Jee’s safety came first. Later, Chim returned to his apartment, exhausted and emotionally frayed. He sank into the couch, Jee cradled against his chest. The phone sat silent, the voicemails and messages blocked. He thought of the 118, the people he had considered family.

They were gone. No one had reached out. No calls, no check-ins. Chim imagined their small jokes and laughter, the camaraderie he had once counted on—and realized it was never coming back. Bridges burned, intentionally or not, and the realization cut deeper than any legal threat Maddie could have thrown at him. The bitterness rose slowly, a hot sting he couldn’t ignore. The 118 had always been his second family—but they hadn’t been there when it counted. No one had protected him when it was him versus Maddie’s world. No one. But  He looked down at Jee, sleeping peacefully, and let the anger settle into determination. He didn’t need them. She needed him. That was enough.

Meanwhile, life elsewhere carried on.

Eddie sat cross-legged on the living room floor, Lucas in his lap, softly bouncing him to the rhythm of a gentle hum. The little one’s tiny fists waved in the air as he cooed and gurgled, eyes wide and curious. Eddie leaned closer, whispering, “Yeah, that’s right… see the ceiling? That’s a spaceship. Whoa, careful!” He nudged a soft toy toward Lucas, and the little hands grabbed it eagerly, a toothless grin spreading across his face.

He laughed, and the sound was rich with warmth, filling the house. Lucas responded with a delighted squeal, kicking his legs in excitement, and Eddie’s heart swelled. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his son’s cheek. “You’re my little warrior, you know that? Nothing’s gonna hurt you while I’m around.”

Buck watched from the doorway, smiling softly at the scene. Eddie caught his eye and winked, and he laughed quietly. “You’re going to spoil him rotten,” he said, voice full of affection.  “Maybe,” Eddie said, voice low and warm, “but he’s worth it.” He kissed the baby’s forehead again and gently adjusted the blanket around him. “You’re safe, little man. Daddy’s got you. Always.”

 Lucas yawned, snuggling into Eddie’s chest, and Eddie held him closer, swaying gently. Every small gurgle and hiccup made Eddie smile, grounding him in the present, in this perfect, fleeting domestic bliss. He silently promised himself that he would never take these quiet moments for granted—he would protect this family, love them fully, and be the father and husband they needed. Even in the chaos outside, in the city that never stopped, here in this small apartment, Eddie felt a rare, complete peace. The bond between father and son was growing stronger with every laugh, every squeak, every tiny hand clutching his finger, and it was unbreakable.

Chim’s apartment felt quiet, almost painfully so. The city lights glimmered outside the window, but inside, only the soft breathing of his daughter filled the space. He whispered, almost to himself: “Alright, Jee… we’re doing this. No one’s taking you from me. Not Maddie, not her parents… not anyone.” He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead and held her closer. The world outside might rage, but here, in this small apartment, they were safe. And that safety—fragile, fleeting, and fiercely guarded—was worth every battle to come.

Chim let his gaze drift to the packed boxes he hadn’t touched yet, the stack of moving for Korea on the counter, text to Bobby  "Hey Bobby, just a heads-up—I’m moving to Korea with Jee to be with my family. Don’t worry, she’s safe, I’ve got everything under control. You probably won't reply, but… take care of yourself, okay?" Bobby didn’t even read it just left on delivered 

and hen" Hey… moving to Korea to be with my family. Just wanted you to know 😎 Maybe you can surprise me at the airport 🤪" Hen didn’t roll her eyes—well, she did a little. But there was faint twitches of her eyebrow. Done with Chim’s antics, done with being drawn into his little dramas. She’d watch, but she wasn’t going to play Karen appeared "you OK babe" "yeah just chim" "oh" 

Each none responds was a reminder: decisions had been made, how disappointed they were in him , and it angered him but he exhaled slowly, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and clarity. He didn’t know exactly how it would happen, or where the road ahead will take him now , but he knew one thing with absolute certainty: wherever they went, he and Jee would go together—and no one would come between them.

And as he watched her sleep, Chim felt a flicker of something he hadn’t let himself feel in months: hope. A quiet, tentative hope that the next chapter of their lives wouldn’t be defined by anger, isolation, or betrayal—but by freedom, by safety, by the small, stubborn joy of being together.

Tomorrow, he would start. Tomorrow, the first real step toward that new life would be taken. And maybe, just maybe, by the end of that day, Jee would look up at him with the same wide-eyed trust that made him feel like anything—even the impossible—was worth fighting for. The night stretched on, silent but full of promise. Chim closed his eyes, holding Jee closer, already imagining the life waiting for them beyond the city lights—and knowing that the real battle, the one for their future, was only just beginning. "Korea here we come" "yay 👏 " jee clapped 

Chapter Text

The apartment was too quiet. Maddie’s breathing sounded loud in the stillness—uneven, ragged—the kind that came after crying, or drinking, or both. She sat on the floor, back against the wall, surrounded by empty bottles and unopened mail stamped in red FINAL NOTICE.

December light filtered through half‑closed blinds, catching dust in the air like drifting snowflakes. Her phone lit up beside her. A photo. Buck, Eddie, and Chris at some event. Buck was smiling—really smiling—with an ease Maddie barely remembered from his childhood. Eddie’s hand rested on his shoulder, Chris leaning into them like he was exactly where he belonged. Like they were his family.

Maddie flipped the phone face‑down, but the image had already cracked something open inside her. And then the memories pulled her under.

flashback 

 Evelina—five years old and too small for the world—sat on the edge of Daniel’s bed, damp eyelashes sticking together from crying. Her toy dragon dangled from her hand like even it had given up. “Is he… is he gonna die, Maddie?” she whispered. The words were so soft that Maddie almost pretended she hadn’t heard them. She was fifteen, exhausted, furious, terrified in a way she didn't yet have language for. Her own grief buzzed under her skin—too raw, too wild. She knelt in front of Evelina, hands settling on her small shoulders.

“No,” Maddie said automatically. “He’s going to be fine.” But Evelina’s lip trembled. “Mom said he might not. She said it depends on me. That I have to be good.” God. That broke something in Maddie. Her hands tightened—too tight—on Evelina’s arms. “You listen to her, okay? You don’t—” Evelina flinched. Barely. But Maddie saw it. Her grip loosened instantly, guilt flooding her throat. She sounded like Margaret. She hated herself for it. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling Evelina into her arms. “I’m so, so sorry.” “I don’t want Daniel to die, I want to save him ”

Evelina whimpered into her shirt. “I know,” Maddie murmured. “I know, baby.” Outside the half‑open door, voices rose—her parents. Margaret’s voice clipped, clinical: “The markers match perfectly. She’ll be an ideal donor. We need to schedule the procedure before his counts drop further.” “She’ll manage,” Phillip replied, like they were discussing the car needing an oil change. “Kids bounce back.” “She’ll do what needs to be done.” Margaret’s tone sharpened. “For Daniel.” Maddie froze.

Not Evelina not their daughter ,not a scared five‑year‑old.Just the donor. A resource, A solution. Evelina trembled in Maddie’s arms. Maybe she’d heard. Maybe she hadn’t. Both possibilities were unbearable. After the procedure, Evelina was pale and shaking, too weak to walk. Maddie carried her to bed while Margaret reminded her, “Keep an eye on her,” as though Evelina were a plant that needed watering. Evelina whimpered through the night, back aching, crying Daniel’s name. And Daniel—still trying to be strong—brushed Evelina’s hair with trembling fingers. Told her stories. Let her sleep beside him when the fear got too big.

Even sick, he radiated warmth. One afternoon, he smiled at her with that soft light he always had for his younger siblings. “I think you got more crayon on your face than on the paper,” he teased. Evelina grinned like it was the greatest praise she’d ever received. “Make Evelina pretty!” she’d declared. Maddie remembered the pang in her chest at that. Evelina—the doll Margaret wanted, the quiet, delicate child she tried so hard to mold. But Daniel never treated her that way. He saw her. He saw Ev. “You’re more than pretty,” Daniel had said, nudging Buck’s shoulder. “You’re bright. Like a spark. A fire that can't be put out ” A spark. Maddie felt her throat tighten. Then came the day Margaret and Phillip demanded bone marrow. For Daniel. For their golden child.

They didn’t look at Evelina like a person. Just an answer. They fussed over her for exactly one day after the procedure. One. Then their attention snapped back to Daniel, and Evelina was expected to be grateful and quiet and useful. “Promise me,” Daniel whispered one night, voice thin, eyes too old for twelve. “Take care of her. Take care of Ev. And love her unconditional ” It was the first time he used the nickname he’d made up—some silly half‑rhyme Evelina adored. “Why do you keep saying it like something’s going to happen? You are fine " Maddie whispered, terrified. “Because,” Daniel said gently,

“Mom and Dad… they don’t love her the way we do. They love what she can give them that she can save me maddie denied it—but Daniel’s eyes were honest. “Promise me.” And she did. She didn’t keep it.

Daniel relapsed two months later. Everything shattered. —Ev—cried constantly. Confused. Terrified. Clinging to Maddie with shaking fists whenever she tried to leave the room. Ev didn’t understand any of it. Didn’t understand why their parents’ grief turned cold. Why Margaret snapped at questions. Why Phillip sent them away with “Go play somewhere else.” But Maddie understood. And she hated how she blames Ev but it felt justified cause Margaret was the same when Daniel died, something bright inside Ev dimmed. Maddie watched it happen. Watched them fold inward, quiet in a way no child should be.

The Buckleys never spoke his name again. Not Daniel. Not their “beloved” son. They boxed up every trophy, every photo, every trace of him. Then they moved. New city. New house. New expectations. But Daniel followed Maddie anyway. In every nightmare. Every flash of guilt. Every time Evan—Ev—was hurt. Every time Margaret criticized him—criticized the name he chose, the identity he fought for—Maddie felt Daniel’s disappointment settle into her bones. Every year on the anniversary of Daniel’s death, Margaret would say, tight and clipped: “You don’t get to fall apart. Your brother fought hard. He deserves dignity, not hysterics.”

Evan sobbed into his pillow at night. Maddie wanted to hold him. Wanted to protect him. Wanted to keep her promise. But she was frozen. Paralyzed by grief and shame and Margaret’s impossible standards. Then came the final blow. “You are the one who killed him, Evan,” Margaret hissed. Maddie’s stomach dropped. “Mom—what?!” “There’s no point dwelling,” Margaret said coldly. “We are moving forward. All of us. So should you.” Moving forward meant destroying the last traces of Daniel. Evan asked once—just once—to visit his grave. Margaret looked down at him, eyes sharp, voice flat.“You don’t get to grieve him. You couldn't save my son ” Evan never asked again never talked much after that.

Never was the same child. Later, in the fire academy, someone joked, “Buckley? Long name. You got a nickname?” And Evan—carrying the weight of an erased childhood—chose Buck. A name that didn’t hurt.A name no one could take.A name Daniel would’ve loved. “More of a Bambi,” Daniel would  tease. God, Maddie remembered the softness in that.

 -------

The present snapped back into place. Maddie blinked hard, December light blurring into streaks. Empty bottles. Stale air. That photo she couldn’t unsee. She picked up her phone. Her thumb hovered over Buck’s contact—the one she hadn’t dialed in months. She pressed it. One ring. Two. Three. “The number you have dialed has been changed or is no longer in service.” Buck had changed his number. Without telling her. Without even giving her the illusion she could still reach him.

Her chest caved. Because nothing had ever felt more like the consequences of her own choices than that mechanical, uncaring voice. Not dead. Not erased. Just out of reach. Maddie sank to the floor, phone slipping from her hand. Buck’s smiling face stared up at her through the cracks of the shattered screen. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Daniel… I’m trying. Buck pushed me away and I’m trying— I did everything for him ” The room stayed silent. Maddie Buckley had never felt smaller or more alone. She stayed there long after her phone dimmed, face pressed to her knees, grief circling like a storm. If Buck didn’t want her… fine. She could take that. But Lucas—Lucas was different. “If Buck doesn’t want me,” she whispered, voice raw, “fine. But I’ll have Lucas. I raised him Evan . I have to have some rights.”

She scrambled to her laptop, fingers shaking as she searched custody laws, sibling rights, loopholes. Nothing helped. Nothing gave her the power she wanted. Desperation crawled up her throat. If the law couldn’t help her… maybe her parents could. They always had influence. They always knew how to twist a narrative. She grabbed her phone wobbling in her hand. “I have to try,” she whispered. “Even if it ruins me.” Outside, the city hummed. Inside, Maddie Buckley was already sharpening her resolve into a blade.  

Next Chapter Teaser

Maddie paced her apartment like a trapped animal, the cracked phone clutched so tight her knuckles whitened. She had Googled every custody loophole, every ancient family law, every scrap of legal hope she could find. Nothing helped. But her parents… They knew how to make things happen. She needed Lucas. Needed something that still tied her to Buck, even if Buck wanted nothing to do with her. Her thumb trembled as she dialed. The line rang twice before Margaret answered, voice clipped and composed. “Madeline?” Maddie swallowed. “Mom… I need your help. With Lucas.” A pause. “Lucas? Who?” “Evan’s son.” Silence. Sharp, assessing, dangerous.

Chapter Text

Maddie paced her apartment like a trapped animal, every step sharp enough to echo off the bare walls. The place felt too small. Too quiet. Too heavy with her own thoughts. The cracked phone trembled in her hand, held so tightly her knuckles blanched white. Her breathing was uneven. Rapid. Controlled only by the thin thread of purpose she clung to.

She had spent the last three hours Googling everything her frantic mind could conjure: custody loopholes, ancient family laws, emergency guardianship claims, “parental neglect claims California,” “can a family member intervene if the primary parent is unstable,” “does emotional instability count as unfit parenting.” Her search history looked like a manifesto.

None of it helped.

Her throat tightened. Of course nothing helped. Of course the system was designed to protect him. Protect the golden child. The hero. The stable one. The one who always got to walk away while she was left holding the broken pieces.

But her parents…

Her parents could make things happen. They always had. They didn’t ask permission; they moved obstacles. And right now, Maddie needed an obstacle moved.She needed Lucas.

She needed something that still tied her to Evan, even if Evan was done with her. Done protecting her. Done forgiving her. Done pretending she hadn’t built her adult life out of disasters she refused to see coming.

“Okay,” she whispered to herself, thumb trembling as she scrolled to the number. “Okay. Mom first.”

She hit call. The line rang once. Twice.

Then a click. “Madeline?” Margaret’s voice was clipped, calm, impeccably composed — the sound of a woman who had never lost control of anything in her life.

Maddie’s mouth went dry. “Mom… I need your help. With Lucas.”

A pause. A long one.

“Lucas?” Margaret repeated. “Who?”

“Evan’s son,” Maddie said, voice thin.

Silence. Sharp, assessing. Dangerous.

When her mother finally spoke, the tone had changed — lower, warning, coiled like wire.
“Maddie,” Margaret said tightly, “we can’t. Athena called us. If she finds out we are in Los Angeles again, or that we intervene with Evan again, we will be arrested for things we need no one to know about. She promised — everyone will know. She will make sure of it.”

Maddie’s stomach dropped. “She wouldn’t. I need you mom please ”

“She would,” Margaret snapped. “And you know she would.” Maddie closed her eyes, pulse ringing in her ears. “But I need him, Mom. You don’t understand — he’s all I have left.” “No,” Margaret said. “He’s all Evan has left. And for once in your life, you need to stay out of it.”

The line went dead.

Just like that.

Maddie stared at the screen until it dimmed, her reflection warping in the cracked glass. Her breathing sped up again. Anger burned hot and fast in her chest.Fine. If her parents wouldn’t help her, she’d find someone who would.

Someone had to listen.

Someone had to understand what was at stake.

The first law office receptionist smiled a little too professionally. “I’m sorry, Ms. Buckley, we’re not taking on new custody cases at this time.”

“But—” Maddie leaned forward, desperate. “I’m not trying to take him. I’m trying to make sure he’s safe. His father is—he’s backsliding. He’s unstable. He’s—”

The receptionist didn’t blink. “We cannot pursue custody without evidence.” “I have evidence!” Maddie insisted, even though she absolutely did not. “And I’m family.”

At the name “Buckley,” the woman’s polite mask cracked just slightly — recognition. Respect. Sympathy. It says here Evan changed his and Lucas's last names to Diaz 2 months ago"

 Maddie was livid 

“I’m familiar with your brother’s work with the department,” she said quietly. “He is extremely well regarded.” Maddie’s jaw clenched. “That doesn’t mean—” “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “We cannot help.”

The second office didn’t even let her finish her story.

The moment she gave her name, the lawyer leaned back in his chair. “I know Buck,” he said, not unkindly but not kind. " he’s a good father.” “You don’t know him like I do,” Maddie hissed.

“I know him enough not to entertain accusations without evidence.” He slid his card back into his pocket. “I won’t take this case.” By the fifth office she was shaking with rage. By the seventh she was near tears.

By the tenth she couldn’t even remember what she’d said to whom — just a blur of legal vocabulary she half-understood and wild, frantic explanations about Lucas that grew less coherent every time she spoke them.

Everyone respected him.
Everyone believed in him.
Everyone saw Evan as this infallible, unbreakable, angelic force of paternal perfection. And love while she was ostracized 

No one saw her.
No one even tried.Her phone buzzed.

She didn’t recognize the number but answered immediately.

“Maddie Buckley?” a voice asked.

“Yes?” “This is Child Protective Services returning your inquiry.” Her heart leapt. She stepped into a quiet alcove outside the law office, gripping the phone like a life raft.

“Thank you for calling me back, this is Maddie yes ” she breathed. “I need to report a situation involving my brother’s son.”

The woman spoke slowly, like she had already braced herself. “Your file says you’ve had prior interactions with this department.” Maddie’s teeth ground together. “You mean when you let Chim… take Jee-Yun from me because you believed his lies? Yes. I remember.”

There was a pause. “Ms. Buckley, we’re not here to discuss past—”

“You took the wrong side then,” Maddie cut in sharply. “You can make it right now. My brother is—he’s—he shouldn’t have custody. He isn’t stable. He isn’t capable. You need to intervene before something happens.” “Maddie,” the woman said carefully, “your brother is in good standing with the city, with the department, and with multiple references. Unless there is proof of abuse, neglect, or immediate danger—”

“There is danger!” Maddie snapped. “Evan doesn’t think clearly. He makes rash decisions. He’s been—he’s been emotional. Irrational. He keeps people around him who enable him!”

“Do you have any evidence of harm to the child?” the woman asked again.

Maddie froze. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Nothing but a stutter "ye---"

“I’m sorry, Ms. Buckley,” the woman said. “Without evidence, we cannot open a case.”The line disconnected. Maddie screamed in frustration, drawing looks from people on the sidewalk.

Fine.
Fine.

If CPS wouldn’t listen, she’d go to the police. Not anywhere near Athena, obviously. She wasn’t stupid. She wasn’t walking into that lion’s den again. She drove forty minutes east to a precinct so small it barely had signage.

She rehearsed the story in the car. Polished it. Made it sound more concrete. More urgent. More believable.

When she walked into the station, she forced tears into her eyes.

“Please,” she said to the officer at the desk. “I need help. My nephew is in danger.” The young officer straightened, concerned. “Okay, ma’am. What’s going on?”

She laid it out again — the instability, the emotional volatility, the history of trauma, the risk of him making “a catastrophic decision while alone with a child.” She sprinkled in just enough truth to make the lies sound plausible.

The officer frowned sympathetically. “We can take a report. Where is the father now?” “With the fire department,” Maddie said.

The officer paused. “Which—fire department?” “Station 118.” Something clicked in his expression. Recognition. Respect.
The same thing everyone else had shown.

“Wait… Buckley?” he asked. “You’re talking about Buck aka  Evan Diaz?”

Maddie’s stomach twisted. “Yes, but he's not a Diaz ” she forced out.

The officer let out a slow, hesitant breath. “Ma’am… I know that guy. He saved my partner’s life. He’s solid. He’s one of the good ones.”

“He’s not what you think! He's confused and emotional he will hurt my baby " Maddie insisted. Before the officer could respond, a familiar voice echoed down the hall.“Officer Reyes? You needed me to sign those transport forms?”

Maddie’s blood froze. Athena rounded the corner carrying paperwork for a case she was helping them with — then stopped dead when she saw Maddie standing at the front desk.

A beat of silence. “Maddie,” Athena said, voice low, like thunder rolling in. “What exactly are you doing here?” The young officer swallowed. “Uh — she was reporting a concern about her nephew, ma’am.”

Athena closed her eyes. Once. Slowly. Then she looked at Maddie, expression carved from steel. “We’ve already had this conversation,” she said. “And you didn’t listen the first time.” Maddie took a step back. “I—I didn’t know you worked with this station—”

“You think I wouldn’t hear about it?” Athena’s voice tightened. “You think running forty miles east would hide what you’re doing? Honey, the city is big — but not big enough to run from the consequences of your actions. I have had so many reports of a woman going around talking shit about buck”

Maddie’s throat closed. “You can’t just—”

“Go home.” Athena’s tone was final. Absolute. “And stay out of this. This is your last warning. I already warned your parents ” Maddie couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Shame flooded her face — hot, suffocating, unbearable.

She fled. The drive home was a blur. Her chest tightened with every passing mile until it felt like something was crushing her sternum. By the time she stumbled into her apartment, the dam broke.

She threw her bag across the room.
Kicked over a chair.
Ripped papers off the counter.
Screamed into the empty space until her voice cracked.

No one listened to her.
No one believed her.
No one cared about what she had lost.

One by one she called everyone still in her contacts — old coworkers, old friends, distant relatives, numbers she hadn’t dialed in years. Every single one either rejected her request, avoided the conversation, or reminded her how well-respected Buck was. How they have seen the good he's done 

And with each call, something inside her snapped a little more. The tears came hot and heavy as she swept everything off the kitchen counter with one arm, glass shattering across the floor. She punched the wall hard enough to make her knuckles throb.

“I’m not wrong,” she sobbed. “I’m not crazy. I’m not.”

Her neighbor banged on the wall. But Maddie didn’t stop. She tore through her apartment like a storm — lamps knocked over, books flung, drawers ripped out and dumped across the carpet.

Twenty minutes later, she collapsed onto the floor, shaking, surrounded by the wreckage of her life.

A faint knock sounded on the door.
Then another. Firm. Official.“LAPD. Ma’am? Your neighbor called in a disturbance.”

Maddie closed her eyes, chest heaving.Of course they did.Of course this night could get worse.

She didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

The door handle rattled.

“Ma’am, we need you to open the door.”

"I HAVE DONE NOTHING WRONG" "LEAVE ME ALONE" 

NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW

The metal door slammed behind her with a cold, echoing finality. Maddie stumbled as the officer guided her into the holding cell, its concrete walls swallowing the sound of her ragged breathing. She clutched the front of her shirt, eyes wide, frantic, darting between the bars and the officers outside them.

“You don’t understand,” she choked out, voice breaking. “You don’t—please, please, you have to call Buck. Call Evan. He’ll come get me. He—he always comes.” One of the officers sighed, tired and unmoved. “Ma’am, you need to sit down.” Maddie shook her head violently, stepping toward the bars. “No—no, you need to call him. Please. He’ll come. He won’t leave me here. He won’t. Just—just call Evan Buckley. Please.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for the bars, gripping them so tightly her knuckles turned bone white. “He’ll come for me,” she whispered, voice splintering. “He has to.” But no one moved. No one reached for the phone. No one believed her. Maddie slid to her knees, forehead pressed against the cold metal, sobs shaking her whole body. “Call him,” she whispered again. “Please… call my brother.” The officers exchanged a look.

Chapter Text

The metal door hadn’t even stopped rattling from Athena’s exit before Maddie’s scream tore out of her — raw, cracking, sharp enough to bounce off every concrete corner of the room.

“HE HAS TO COME! HE HAS TO!”

Her voice scraped her throat, already worn from begging. Maddie slammed her hands against the bars, once, twice, a third time until pain shot through her palms.

“He always comes,” she whispered to no one. “He always—”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Maddie froze.

She knew that sound.
She knew that stride.
Hope surged so violently it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

“Evan?” she choked out, dragging herself up on trembling legs, gripping the bars with desperate fingers. “Evan—please—”

But the man who walked into view wasn’t rushing, or worried, or panicked. But furious  He wasn’t the Buck who always came running with soft eyes and shaking hands and a promise to fix whatever she broke.

He was cold.
Quiet.
Shoulders squared.
Jaw tight enough to crack.

And he didn’t move closer than three feet from the bars.

“Evan,” Maddie sobbed, reaching through the metal toward him, “they didn’t call you—I told them to, I begged them to—”

“They did call me,” Buck said, voice steady, terrifyingly calm. “Athena called. She told me everything.”

“That’s not—” Maddie sucked in a ragged breath. “Evan, she’s lying, you know how she gets, she thinks she knows everything—”

Buck didn’t even blink.

“You went around our LA  telling people I was unfit to raise my own son.and that you should be his parent Maddie What the hell  ”

“I—” Maddie swallowed, tears streaking hot down her cheeks. “I was scared—Evan, please, I just—Lucas needs stability— and love I j--”

Buck laughed. A single, humorless exhale.

“And you thought the best way to give him that was to tell strangers I was dangerous? Emotionally compromised and not thinking things through ”

“I deserve a family!” Maddie shouted, voice breaking. “Everyone I love leaves me or dies or turns into some abusive asshole Doug wouldn't give me kids without me giving him something and you—you could at least let me SEE Lucas insteadof keeping him from his only aunt! I just want what’s best—”

“No,” Buck said sharply. His voice cut the air in half. “You want CONTROL.” Maddie shook her head, frantic. “That’s not—You don’t—Evan, I’m your sister. I’m all you have left just us mom and Dad won't help me .”

Buck stepped forward, finally — but not to comfort.
His eyes were fierce, bright, wounded.

“You are not all I have left,” he said. “I have Eddie. I have Chris. I have Bobby. I have the 118. I have Lucas. I have a family I BUILT. A family that doesn’t use me, or guilt me, or lie about me. I'm all you have left but I'm so Done ”

Maddie flinched like he’d struck her.

“But I’m your sister, you can just erase me ” she whispered. “I’m your family—”

“You don’t get to weaponize family,” Buck said, voice trembling with anger he’d been swallowing for years. “Not with me. Not anymore. And this fucking family is great at erasing people I can erase you. ”

Maddie’s breath hitched. “Evan… please…”

“No,” Buck said again, firmer this time. “You crossed a line by using my son to get back at me . Lucas is my son. My responsibility. My choice. And you don’t get access to him until you get help. Real help. Not excuses. Not victim narratives. Not manipulation. I will protect my son more then I will every want a relationship with you ever again you can rot I her for all I give a damn ”

Tears streamed down her face.

“You’re abandoning me.”

Buck’s eyes softened — for half a second — in mourning, not regret. 

“I’m letting you face consequences,” he said quietly. “There’s a difference I'm choosing my family the one you Margaret Phillip will never ruin for me ever again .”

He stepped back. Maddie grabbed the bars again, panic surging. “Evan—Evan, don’t leave me here! Evan, PLEASE I DONT DESERVE THIS PLEASE —”

Buck paused in the doorway but didn’t turn around.

“You’re not alone because people leave, Maddie,” he said. “You’re alone because you hurt them and refuse to admit you did. I'm done being your punching bag when you can control the narrative ”

Maddie let out a scream — furious, broken, echoing — but Buck didn’t stop.
He didn’t slow. He walked out. And for the first time in her life, Maddie realized Buck wasn’t coming back.
Not until she did the work.And maybe not even then.

**Preview — Next Chapter 

 The holding cell was colder than Maddie expected.Not physically — the temperature was fine — but the silence, the eyes, the weight of every mistake pressing down on her shoulders made it feel like she was standing in the center of a glacier. She sat on the metal bench, hands still trembling from the adrenaline crash, replaying the moment the officer read her rights.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to be me.

She kept waiting for someone to come.

Buck to show back up and apologize for how he spoke to her. Someone to say her name instead of “ma’am.”

But no one did.

Her throat tightened. She wasn’t calling Chimney. He probably lost her number She wasn’t calling Buck.not with how angry he was She couldn’t handle their voices — not after everything, not with the way this would confirm exactly what they thought of her. But her parents…

Her parents would have to come. No judgment. No anger. They owed her that much. Right? A deputy unlocked the small gate and nodded toward the phones.

“You get one call.”

Her legs felt like she was walking through cement, but she crossed the room and picked up the receiver. The dial tone buzzed against her ear. She entered the number by muscle memory, the same way she had as a teenager sneaking out or calling home from a sleepover.

It rang once.Twice.Three times.Then a click. “hello ?” her mother answered, voice sharp, confused. “Why are you calling so late?” Maddie’s breath hitched. “Mom… I—I’m in jail.”Silence. Not shocked silence — calculating silence. Her father came onto the line. “maddie What did you do?”

Not are you okay.

Not where are you.

Not we’re coming.

Chapter Text

The holding cell was colder than Maddie expected. Not physically — the temperature hovered at a neutral chill — but the silence, the empty weight of the concrete walls, and the oppressive gravity of her own mistakes pressed down on her shoulders like ice. She sat on the metal bench, hands trembling from the adrenaline crash, replaying the moment the officer had read her rights. Each word echoed like a drum in her chest.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

This wasn’t supposed to be her.

This wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

She was supposed to get Buck back and be happy 

 She kept waiting for someone to come.

 Buck. He’d show up any second, realizing he overreacted, ready to apologize, ready to hold her close and tell her she wasn’t alone. Someone, anyone, to call her by name and not just “ma’am.” Someone who remembered her as Maddie, not as a mistake waiting to be cataloged.

But no one did.

Her throat tightened. She wasn’t calling Chimney — probably lost her number, or deleted it entirely after everything and took her baby girl. And she wasn’t calling Buck, not with the fire still blazing behind his eyes the last time she saw him. She couldn’t handle their voices — not now, not with this silence pressing into her like glass.

But her parents…

Surely they’d come.

They owed her that. Right?

A deputy unlocked the small gate and nodded toward the row of phones.

“You get one call,” he said, tone professional and distant.

Her legs felt like lead as she crossed the room. Each step was a slow battle against gravity. When she reached the phone, she gripped the receiver so tightly her knuckles ached, and the dial tone buzzed like an angry swarm of bees in her ear. She punched in the familiar number, memorized from countless childhood emergencies, from sleepovers when she’d snuck out, from the days when her parents had been her sanctuary.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

A click.

“Hello?” Her mother’s voice snapped across the line, sharp and clipped. “Why are you calling so late?” Maddie’s chest tightened. “Mom… I—I’m in jail.”

Silence. Not the kind of stunned, protective silence that might signal concern. Not the kind of startled silence that promised action.

No, this was a calculating, cold silence, the kind that weighed your missteps against your worth. Her father’s voice joined hers a moment later, quiet but cutting. “Maddie. What did you do?”

Not Are you okay?

Not Where are you?

Not We’re coming.

Just judgment, already served, already tallied.

“I just… I need someone to come down here. I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s a mistake,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Please.”

Another long pause.

Her mother’s sigh was soft but sharp. “ Madeline, we can’t get involved in this. It wouldn’t look good. You’re going to have to solve this yourself.” Her father added, quiet but simmering with irritation, “Actions have consequences. You should have stopped while ahead ”

Actions have consequences.

Actions have consequences.

The words slammed into her chest like a fist.

She pressed her forehead to the scratched plastic divider, eyes burning. “But I’m your daughter… I’m here because you told me I should raise Buck’s baby,” she whispered. “You said it was right. You said I could help…” “We’ll talk when you’re released,” "if" her mother said. The words were polite, careful, kind in the sense that they were neat and contained, not gentle. Then the line went dead.

Maddie stayed there, unmoving, until the dial tone cut into her ear. For the first time all night, she truly understood:

Buck was always the disappointment.

She was supposed to be the golden child.

And now she had nowhere left to fall.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time had no meaning in the gray, oppressive cell. Every sound echoed — the metallic clink of doors, footsteps in distant hallways, a cough that wasn’t hers. Every shadow seemed to creep closer. She pressed herself against the wall, knees drawn up, hands wrapped around them like a shield.

Then came the sound of another presence.

A key rattled. Boots clicked on the concrete. Another inmate had been placed in the cell next to hers. The bars clanged, heavy with the weight of confinement.

The other girl was older, hardened in ways Maddie wasn’t, with eyes sharp as broken glass. She leaned against the wall, sizing Maddie up in silence. Then, finally:

“New girl, huh never been arrested?” Maddie flinched. “I… yeah.” Her voice was small, hesitant, still raw from the phone call.

The other inmate smirked. “Relax. You’re not the first golden child to end up here. You’ll learn just best to keep your head low .” Maddie’s stomach twisted. “I… I don’t belong here.” “Everyone belongs somewhere. Some people just get caught and learn there lessons some don't.” The girl’s tone was casual, almost cruel in its ease. “Better start learning fast. Because in here… no one’s going to save you. And you will learn No one cares how you feel or think  ”

Maddie pressed her face into her hands, her heart hammering. The words echoed the cold judgment she had just heard from her parents, but somehow, the weight was heavier coming from someone who wasn’t invested in her. She couldn’t look at the other girl. She couldn’t speak. She could only feel the crushing weight of every bad decision she’d made pressing her flat against the wall.

The inmate chuckled. “Don’t think too hard. You’ll go crazy. Or you’ll cry. Or both. Pick one.” She laughs 

And Maddie felt herself falter — every confidence, every justification, every last scrap of her self-image crumbling beneath the relentless weight of judgment and fear. Somewhere in the distance, the hallway echoed. Footsteps. A door creaked. And Maddie wondered, for the hundredth time, if anyone at all would come.

The night stretched on. Maddie didn’t sleep. She didn’t move much. She just sat on that metal bench, rocking slightly, muttering apologies into her own lap, trying to undo years of mistakes with words that didn’t matter anymore.

And when she closed her eyes, it wasn’t dreams that came — it was memories: Lucas laughing at her, Buck’s eyes narrowing in frustration, her parents’ measured disapproval. And somewhere deep, a quiet voice, relentless and bitter, reminding her: she’d put herself here.

Finally, the cell door clanged. A uniformed officer called her name, and Maddie’s body jolted. “You’re up,” the officer said. “Court is ready.” Maddie’s stomach dropped. She had imagined this moment hundreds of times — imagined Buck rushing to her side, imagined her parents pleading for her, imagined Athena somehow making it all right.

But none of that happened.

She followed the officer down the hall, each step hollow, every echo a reminder of isolation.

The courtroom was bright, formal, and cold, a stark contrast to the haze of the cell. Maddie could barely focus — the judge’s robes, the reporters’ pens, the whispering crowd — all blurred together.

Her chest felt tight, her mind spinning. This wasn’t just about her mistakes. It wasn’t just about the defacing of Buck’s character, the controlling behavior, the emotional manipulation, the mental stress she had inflicted on everyone around her. It was about every choice, every word, every secret.

And it was about accountability.

She took a shaky breath as the judge leaned forward, voice calm but firm, echoing through the chamber.“And how do you plead?”

Maddie froze.The weight of her mistakes, the isolation, the judgment — it pressed down on her like the glacier she’d felt in the holding cell, leaving her dizzy, exposed, and finally… terrified. But will she say it will she admit her guilt.

Chapter Text

The courtroom was bright, formal, and cold, a stark contrast to the haze of the cell. Maddie could barely focus — the judge’s robes, the reporters’ pens, the whispering crowd — all blurred together.

Her chest felt tight, her mind spinning. This wasn’t just about her mistakes. It wasn’t just about the defacing of Buck’s character, the controlling behavior, the emotional manipulation, the mental stress she had inflicted on everyone around her. It was about every choice, every word, every secret.

And it was about accountability. She took a shaky breath as the judge leaned forward, voice calm but firm, echoing through the chamber.“And how do you plead?” Maddie froze. The weight of her mistakes, the isolation, the judgment — it pressed down on her like the glacier she’d felt in the holding cell, leaving her dizzy, exposed, and finally… terrified.

But the fear didn’t win. The bitterness did.She lifted her chin.“Not guilty.”A wave of murmurs swept through the courtroom.Buck didn’t flinch. Eddie squeezed his hand ,bobby’s jaw clenched. Athena’s expression didn’t move — but her eyes sharpened. The judge nodded slowly. “Very well. We’ll proceed.”

Opening Statements The prosecution rose first. A composed woman in a dark suit stepped to the center of the room.

“This case,” she began, “is not about one moment of violence or one tragic event. It is about a long-standing pattern of manipulation, control, and emotional endangerment. It is about a woman who used love as currency and trauma as a weapon and make people pity her .”Maddie’s fingers dug into her palms. The prosecutor continued The prosecutor stepped forward again, voice calm, measured, and unyielding.

“Ms. Buckley, let’s discuss Doug Kendall.” Maddie’s shoulders stiffened. “You killed him,” he said. “No one disputes that. Do you?” “It was self-defense,” Maddie replied sharply. “Any other woman would have done the same. I was sc--” “And the court recognizes that,” he agreed. “Your survival is not on trial here.” Her posture eased — for a moment. “But what is on trial,” he continued, “is what came after.”

Maddie blinked, thrown off. “After?”

The prosecutor lifted a series of files.

“Doug Kendall was an abuser. A violent, controlling man. You escaped him. And that took courage.” Her chin lifted slightly . “However,” he said, voice deepening, “the years following his death show a disturbing pattern: manipulation, emotional coercion, harmful behavior, and a consistent tendency to shift blame. On friends. On partners. On your brother. On anyone who dared to say ‘no’ to you.”

Maddie’s lawyer stood immediately.

“Objection, Your Honor. The prosecution is attempting to pathologize my client’s trauma response.” The judge nodded. “Overruled — but keep your questioning within relevance.” The prosecutor inclined his head and turned back to Maddie.

“Trauma explains behavior,” he said, “but it does not excuse repeated harm.”

Maddie’s lawyer stepped closer to her, speaking firmly. “Ms. Buckley survived an extraordinary level of abuse. Any emotional dysregulation or perceived ‘manipulation’ must be contextualized within that trauma. She was doing her best.” the prosecutor raised an eyebrow.

“Was she?” “Yes,” her lawyer snapped. “She lived through a decade of control. She reacted like any survivor might.”

The prosecutor paced slowly, looking unimpressed.

“So her pattern of emotional coercion — that’s a trauma response?”

“Yes,” her lawyer insisted. “Absolutely.”

“Her attempts to guilt her brother into compliance and give his child ?” 

"A trauma response.”

“Her refusal to take accountability?”

“A trauma response.”

“Her violent outbursts, her attempts to pull others into legal battles they had nothing to do with, her blatant disregard for the emotional well-being of her family? ”

“Again,” the lawyer said tightly, a little unsure “trauma response.”

The prosecutor stopped walking.

Dead center of the courtroom.

“And the continued destruction of every relationship she touched after Doug ?” His voice sharpened. “Does the defense consider that, too, a trauma response?”

Her lawyer exhaled shakily. “My client was doing the best she could with the tools she had she ju-.”

Maddie finally spoke, voice trembling. “I was trying to survive, no one would listen to me” she whispered.

The prosecutor nodded once.

“No one denies that. And what Doug did to you was horrific. You protected yourself. You escaped. You survived. But survival is not a free pass to hurt others for years afterward. Especially the one who always had. Your back”

“Objection,” her lawyer barked again. “He’s badgering her!”

“Sustained,” the judge said.

But the damage was done.

The prosecutor lowered his voice.

“No one is putting you on trial for killing Doug,” he said. “We are here because after Doug… you did not stop running. You did not stop controlling. You did not stop harming.  And your trauma may explain your actions — but it does not erase their consequences. And the trauma you bestowed on to others ”

Maddie’s lawyer put a hand on her arm to steady her, whispering urgently, “Stay calm. Don’t react.” But Maddie’s eyes darted around the room — at the jury, the judge, the crowd — and she felt the weight of their judgment like a wall closing in.

She had survived Doug. But she was not surviving this.

The Weaponization of Loyalty 

The prosecutor stepped forward again, shifting pages on his desk before lifting a new file.

“Let’s move to another pattern, Ms. Buckley,” he said coolly.

“One that is perhaps the most painful.”

Maddie stiffened. Her lawyer braced beside her.

“Your brother,” the prosecutor continued. “Evan Diaz. His loyalty to you has been unwavering — unconditional, even. And you used that.”

Maddie’s jaw clenched. “I never—”

“Let’s talk about the day you arrived in Los Angeles, uninvited and no calls before hand in years” he cut in. Her lawyer immediately rose. “Objection — irrelevant—”

The judge shook her head. “Overruled. Loyalty and manipulation are directly connected to the charges and pattern of behavior.”

The prosecutor nodded once and stepped closer.

“You were not supposed to be in LA,” he said. “You hadn’t told anyone you were coming. You had not warned your brother. You had not asked permission from the woman whose apartment you entered. Yes it wasn't Evan's apartment but you didn't care did you "

He let the silence settle.

“ you broke in anyway.”

A few jurors exchanged uncomfortable glances.

“You entered Ms. Clark’s apartment,” he continued. “You made yourself comfortable. Took a bottle of wine You took a shower. You got into Buck’s space — uninvited — and you waited that don't seem like a emergency to me it sounds like a vacation .”

Maddie’s fingers twisted in her lap.

“And when he arrived home,” the prosecutor went on, tone sharpening, “he did not know you were there. He thought Abby had returned. He walked into the bathroom expecting his partner. Not the sister he hadn’t seen in years there like she owned the place and had the right to be there he could have called the cops Maddie he should have.”

Maddie’s lawyer cut in again, desperate.

“She was fleeing for her life. She had nowhere else to go.”

“She had resources,” the prosecutor replied. “She had contacts. She had shelters. She had friends from Boston. She had law enforcement officers who could have helped her safely. She had Margaret and Phillip to but she chose Buck. Always Buck. Because he wouldn’t question her. Because he never had , like why are you in LA? why come here out of the Blue ? Where is Doug?"  

Her lawyer leaned closer to Maddie. “Don’t react. Let me handle this.” The prosecutor held up his hand.

“And when Buck did the completely reasonable thing,” he said, voice low and pointed, “and stepped into what he thought was a moment of intimacy with the woman he loved… you got angry. At him. For Being weird and trying to see you naked. But you weren’t suppose to be in his apartment at all. ”

Maddie swallowed hard.

“You invaded his safe space. You inserted yourself into a moment you had no permission to be in. And then you punished him emotionally for being confused. And asking to many questions ”

Her lawyer stepped forward.

“Your Honor, we must consider the state of mind—” “We are,” the prosecutor replied. “And her state of mind was this: she knew Buck would always choose her. Over himself. Over his own boundaries. Over his own relationships. Like always”

Maddie’s breath hitched.

 “And she used that,” the prosecutor said. “Repeatedly.”

Her lawyer tried again. “She was scared. She was alone. She needed someone she trusted.”

“And that trust cost him,” the prosecutor shot back. “It cost him peace. It cost him stability. It cost him relationships. It cost him emotionally, mentally, sometimes physically.”

the emotional control she exerted during postpartum

He turned to the jury.

“Self-defense against Doug Kendall was justified. But what followed was not survival. It was reliance on one person’s unconditional love — until it broke him.and made him look at his whole life and all the shit she put him through”

Maddie’s eyes flashed with anger, hurt, confusion — but no remorse. Not yet. Her lawyer placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “We can win this.” But the jury had heard it.

And for the first time, Maddie saw the shift in their faces.

Not sympathy. Or Understanding.And it terrified her.

The room is quiet, too quiet, and Maddie’s hands twist in her lap as the prosecutor closes the file with a soft, decisive thud.

PROSECUTOR: Ms. Buckley, you’ve stated multiple times that your actions were the result of postpartum depression after jee was born . And I want to be clear—no one in this room is denying you suffered. But suffering and accountability are not mutually exclusive. You understand that, yes?

Maddie nods, hesitant.

PROSECUTOR:

Good. Because here’s what I’m having trouble with. You say you had no one. No support. Now—your brother, Evan Diaz nee Buckley at the time —did he seem unsupported to you during his postpartum crisis?

Maddie swallows. Hard.

PROSECUTOR:

Because from where I’m sitting, the man went to every single person in his circle practically begging for help. He didn’t disappear. He didn’t run. He didn’t leave his child and partner wondering if he was dead in a ditch somewhere.(leans in, voice tightening)

"He fought like hell to stay present. He did the work you didn’t do. With more stress from you and your parents to give his child to you to what make up for jee."

Maddie flinches. -"n--no ---I just---"

PROSECUTOR:

And what did you do with that support he gave you? What did you do with the love and loyalty he’s always had for you? You weaponized it. You left him with your parting request to—what were your words? Ah, yes.

(opens the file)

“Take care of Chim and Jee for me .” They let the silence stretch, the accusation hanging heavy.

PROSECUTOR:

And of course he did. Because your brother would walk through fire for you. He would burn himself down to keep your world from collapsing. You knew that. You counted on it to have his set fire to his life to keep you warm .

Maddie's eyes glass over, but the prosecutor doesn’t relent.

PROSECUTOR:

Meanwhile, your disappearance sends your partner into a tailspin so severe he physically assaults Buck—an assault you later defend when you return. Any reason? Or is it simply easier to blame the one person who stayed loyal through every disaster you created?

Maddie opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. "Howie was stres--" "and you put him in that stress" "i dint think he would hit him he was never like that he's not Doug "

PROSECUTOR:

See, here’s the thing, Ms. Buckley. Even when you’re not there, you manage to hurt him. And somehow? Somehow you always center yourself as the victim in the aftermath well now who do you have to blame now.

(leans back, unimpressed)

"But let’s move on". They flip the page.

PROSECUTOR:

This statement here—

(reads)

“He looked too much like my baby brother who died.” "You were referring to Daniel. To your living brother buck. The one who was trying to help you". Maddie closes her eyes.

PROSECUTOR:

Tell me, Ms. Buckley…

(soft, razor-sharp)

"What exactly did you expect Evan to do with that? Change his face? Apologize for surviving when your other brother didn’t? That not on him take that up with God and your parents" 

(shakes head)

"Your grief is real, but it does not excuse the impact of your actions—or the people you harmed. It just tells people you use your trauma to get your way"

The prosecutor folds their hands.

PROSECUTOR:

Postpartum is not a shield from accountability. Not for the choices you made. Not for the hurt you caused. And certainly not for the damage you inflicted on the very person who tried the hardest to save you. the the custody battle she triggered by attempting to use Luca" he looked at the jury “This is not about trauma,” the prosecutor said plainly. “This is about accountability.”

PROSECUTOR:  More specifically, the moment Ms. Buckley attempted to use her nephew, Lucas, as evidence that she was a fit mother deserving another child.

Maddie stiffens.

Her lawyer lifts a hand.

LAWYER:  Your Honor, my client was simply trying to demonstrate family support—

PROSECUTOR: (cuts in, voice firm)

"Family support? You mean the family you emotionally destroyed? The family whose trust you manipulated for years?"

Maddie glares at them, the first spark of anger replacing fear.

MADDIE:  That’s not true. I love my nephew. I would never—

PROSECUTOR:  You “love” him so much you tried to drag him into a legal battle that had nothing to do with him, just to make yourself look stable on paper.

They take a measured step closer to the witness stand.

PROSECUTOR:  Lucas’s stability. Lucas’s wellbeing.Lucas’s entire life— you tried to make it a prop.

Maddie’s breath trembles.

PROSECUTOR: 

" When the custody evaluator warned you that bringing a young child into this case would be inappropriate, you insisted it was your right as his aunt. Even after they explicitly told you it could traumatize him".

Maddie’s glare turns sharper, defensive.

MADDIE:  I was proving I had family! That I wasn’t alone! That I wasn’t—

PROSECUTOR:  —fit to raise a child?

That’s what the court decided.

And in response, you escalated.

Her lawyer tries again.

LAWYER: 

Your Honor, my client’s emotional distress—

PROSECUTOR: 

No.

Her actions.

They face the judge, voice unwavering.

PROSECUTOR: 

"After losing the custody case, Ms. Buckley didn’t reflect.

She didn’t seek help.

She didn’t accept the court’s ruling. She retaliated."

A murmur ripples through the gallery.

PROSECUTOR: 

She lashed out at friends, her own family. She attempted to reframe herself as a victim of a conspiracy in which every single person in her life magically became the antagonist.

They turn back to Maddie.

PROSECUTOR:  The lies grew more desperate.

The coercion more brazen.

The behavior more erratic.

And through it all?

Not a shred of remorse.

Maddie’s glare becomes venomous, jaw quivering with restrained fury.

MADDIE: You don’t know anything about me.

The prosecutor steps closer, voice quiet but merciless.

PROSECUTOR:  I know this: They look her straight in the eyes.

PROSECUTOR: 

"This is not about trauma.

This is about accountability."

The words hit the room like a dropped gavel.

Maddie’s expression cracks — not into guilt, but into cold, furious disbelief, a glare sharp enough to cut glass.

Then it was the defense’s turn: a weak, unsteady speech about pain, misunderstandings, and “a mother trying her best.” Even her own lawyer sounded unconvinced.

Witnesses Athena Grant-Nash

Athena walked with the kind of confidence that made the defense visibly shrink.

Her voice was even, measured, but brutal in its honesty.

She spoke of:

Maddie’s instability

the danger she posed to others

the repeated refusal to follow legal orders

the emotional manipulation she enacted on Buck, Chimney, and even Phillip and Margaret

and the fear she instilled in everyone around her

The courtroom believed every word.

Then Hen and Karen

They spoke softly but firmly about how Maddie had used fear and guilt like tools. How she isolated Buck, dismissed his emotions, and weaponized her trauma. How she tried to say Buck shouldn't have even had a baby.

Eddie spoke

“ when she tried to pull Lucas into it, after losing custody of jee ?”  shook his head. “That was the moment I knew she didn’t see children as people. She saw them as leverage.” When he took the stand, his presence shifted the room. “Maddie hurt the people I love, the man I love dearly who just had our baby. ” he said simply. “And she never once cared about the damage she left behind I have seen her actively lie to Buck and he didn't see it but she looked so proudof her lie it was sickening.”

He looked directly at her.

“You don’t get to call that love or family.” Maddie’s Turn She didn’t wait for her lawyer. The second the judge allowed her to speak, she erupted.

“You’re all twisting things! You’re all acting like I wanted any of this I wanted my kid and a good husband and a family is that a crime!”

She claimed: Buck exaggerated,Chimney abandoned her,Athena had a vendetta,Margaret and Phillip left her for dead ,everyone forced her into reacting she had “no choice” but to do what she did .none of it was her fault

“I would still have a family,” she snapped, “if Buck had just listened to me and let me see Lucas!”

The gallery gasped. Buck didn’t move. His expression was unreadable — calm, but dangerous.

“And my parents,” Maddie spat, “they should be here! They should support me! They only turned on me because Athena threatened them! They’re cowards!”She was unraveling. In real time. Her lawyer tried to rein her in. She didn’t stop. “Everyone made me into this! They all pushed me! They all made me do these things! Daniel died then no one listened to me anymore I didn't have anyone and Doug controlled everything--- ”

By the time the judge cut her off, the courtroom was dead silent. Even she realized she’d gone too far.Buck Takes the StandcThe moment he walked up, the energy shifted.

He didn’t look at Maddie at first. When he finally did, his expression was devastating — not angry.Just done.His voice was steady.

“When Daniel died,” he began, “my mother told me I killed him I believedher for so long .”Maddie’s head jerked up.“She told me to keep it quiet with my grief. To hold it all in. So I did. For years.”His breath shook once — only once.

“I was a child, and I carried a dead brother  on my back because she told me it was my fault.” A few people in the gallery wiped their eyes. Buck continued. “After Doug, after everything… I tried to understand Maddie. I tried to help her. But she didn’t want help. She wanted control. The control that was taken from her”

Maddie glared at him, her face twisting. “She used my love like a leash,” Buck said. “She used my guilt to keep me quiet. When I didn’t agree with her, I was the villain. When I tried to set boundaries, I was abandoning her.”

He looked at the judge, voice firming.

“She wasn’t there for me. She was never there. Not when I was grieving Daniel.not during my transition cause it was to much for her too handle ,Not during postpartum. Not when I needed a big sister. ” He swallowed. A final cut. “And now she’s not the sister I lost. She’s just another person who hurt me. And I’m done carrying that.”

Then he looked at Maddie directly. For the first time, his voice cracked with anger. And sadness  “I hope you rot in jail thinking about every lie you told. Every person you hurt. I’m done thinking about you.” Maddie’s face crumpled — but not in remorse.
In rage. The jury was out discussing  the Verdict they came back

The Verdict The judge didn’t hesitate.

“Madeline Buckley. For your actions, manipulations, and the danger you pose to others, I sentence you to twenty years to life in federal custody.” The gavel hit.

Maddie flinched.

Not from guilt — but from losing control. As deputies approached, she stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, eyes burning.Not one tear. Not one apology.She was led away, still insisting, “This isn’t my fault. None of this is my fault. I cant go to prison I'm to pretty please ” And Buck…
Buck just exhaled. For the first time, the weight he’d carried his whole life wasn’t his anymore.

Chapter Text

 Chimney in Korea right after the trial happened In LA 

Seoul was buzzing — neon signs flickering to life as evening settled in, crowds flowing through the warm summer air. Chimney sat on a bench outside a small neighborhood park, the kind with bright colors and soft rubber flooring. Jee — now five almost 6 , bold as ever — ran across the climbing structure, determined to conquer the tallest slide.

“Appa! Watch!” she yelled, waving both arms like a tiny windmill.

“I’m watching!” Chim called back, smiling as she scrambled to the top.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.
A message from an old LAFD buddy back in Los Angeles. One who actually still contacted him. He read it, eyebrows lifting just slightly. Maddie’s parole hearing had come and gone.
Nothing had changed. He let out a slow breath — not angry, not even sad.
Just… finished.

Jee came flying down the slide with a triumphant shriek. She ran straight into his arms, nearly knocking him back. “You see? I did it! The big slide!” Chim kissed the top of her head. “You did you’re amazing.” She giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He looked at her — her joy, her safety, the future she deserved — and felt nothing but peace. Their life here was quieter, safer. He had friends, a good job, family close by. And Jee had a childhood untouched by fear.

“Appa,” she said, tugging his sleeve, “can we get bingsu on the way home?” Chim grinned. “You bet we can. Extra strawberry.”Jee cheered, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the street. As they walked, Chim glanced once toward the setting sun.Not for Maddie.
Not for the past.Just forward — toward the life he chose. The life he lost is at the back of him mind.

at Bobby and Athena after the trial 

The late afternoon sun draped Athena and Bobby’s backyard in gold, warm and soft in a way that felt… safe. The grill hissed, someone laughed near the porch, and the smell of Bobby’s ribs hung in the air like a promise.

Buck breathed in deep. For the first time in years, the air didn’t feel heavy. A tiny weight crashed into the back of his knee. He looked down to see Lucas, chubby hands grabbing fistfuls of his shorts as the two-year-old practically vibrated with excitement.

Lucas: “Up, daddy catch me !” Buck’s heart cracked open in the gentlest way. He scooped him up with ease, tossing him just high enough for Lucas to squeal before catching him close.

Buck:  “You’re getting so big, buddy. Pretty soon I’m not gonna be able to lift you it's hurting my back...” Lucas gasped, horrified at the idea. Buck chuckled and kissed the top of his head. And for once… nothing in his chest hurt. Across the yard, Eddie stood with a plate in one hand and a beer in the other, watching Buck with that soft, private smile he pretended wasn’t obvious.

He walked over, bumping Buck’s shoulder as he set the plate down

Eddie:  “our son stole your food.” Behind him, Chris, now sixteen and almost taller than Buck (which Chris reminded everyone constantly), shrugged with zero remorse as he held Buck’s hamburger hostage.

Chris:  “You left it unattended. That’s on you .” Buck scoffed dramatically, shifting Lucas onto his hip.

Buck:  “I’m being bullied in my own family.” Chris smirked

Chris: “Technically this is Bobby and Athena’s house, so… you have no say on food even if you made the plate for yourself ” Lucas nodded seriously like that settled it.

Eddie burst into laughter — the bright, unguarded kind he only ever let out around them. Buck’s chest swelled with warmth, thick and overwhelming in the best way. He leaned over and kissed Eddie softly, thumb brushing his jaw. Eddie kissed back without hesitation, steady and sure, anchoring Buck with the kind of love he used to think he’d never deserve.

Eddie (quiet):  “You okay?”

Buck glanced around — Athena lecturing Bobby about grilling safety, May teasing Denny, and Mara giggle, Hen and Karen talking with Ravi, Michael pouring drinks with Harry’s help — all of them alive, laughing, whole.

His family his real one he exhaled.

Buck:  “Yeah… I am. For the first time, I really am. I have a beautiful family with a kid that's mine and a kid you gave me years ago I love you mi sole  ”

Eddie squeezed the back of his neck, drawing him close. Resting there foreheads together.  

Eddie:  “Good. Because we’re not going anywhere, I love you more mi vida.” Then kisses his lips

Buck smiled in to the kiss — small, honest, and soft.Lucas tugged his hair.

Lucas: “ no Daddy! Play! No kiss!” Buck set him down laughing , letting Lucas run a few feet ahead before chasing him with exaggerated slowness. Chris joined in, laughing so hard he could barely run straight. Eddie followed, pretending he wasn’t sprinting to keep up.

It was chaos.

It was loud.

It was imperfect and messy and normal.

And Buck felt light. Not because everything was fixed — but because he finally believed he didn’t have to carry it alone. He slowed as Lucas flung himself into his arms again.Buck lifted him easily and whispered into his hair Buck: “You’re safe. You’re loved. All of us are.” For once, that promise wasn’t a hope or a desperate wish. It was the truth.

 One Month Later Maddie 

The air in the women’s correctional facility was always cold. Not icy — just cold enough to settle into the bones, into the places where fear lived, into the parts of yourself you couldn’t hide anymore. Maddie sat on her thin mattress, knees pulled tight to her chest, staring at the concrete wall across from her.

One month. She had "survived" one month.

Barely. She’d walked in thinking she could keep her head high, that she was different that she was better, that no one would dare challenge her. But prison wasn’t a place where delusion survived long.

The inmates had watched the trial. They knew everything.About Buck.

About Jee about her choices about the lies about the way she treated people like obstacles and the arrogance she tried to wear like armor.

And they hated it.

They hated her. On day three, someone bumped into her in the cafeteria hard enough that her tray clattered to the floor. Maddie had snapped, “Watch where you’re going. God how rude bitch.” Silence. Then a low, amused scoff from the woman towering over her. “You ain’t special here, sweetheart. You are just some rich bitch who has no morals and that's saying another cause some of us are murderers ” After that, everything changed.

Her shampoo went missing her laundry got thrown on the ground stomped on .People whispered as she passed, not even attempting to hide it. As they laugh at her. Her shower sandals were tossed across the tile floor more than once. Someone carved “Princess” in her wall  with a broken toothbrush.

Nothing bloody.

Nothing the guards would intervene over.

Everything intentional.

A systematic lesson.

By week three, she stopped talking back. Stopped correcting people. Stopped believing she could charm her way anywhere. Tonight she sat on her bunk, wrapped in the uselessly thin blanket, listening to the muffled laughter of women playing cards down the hall. The sound hurt more than the silence.

For the first time in her life, she whispered the truth into the dark: “I did this to myself...... didn't I ” And nobody — not one single person — disagreed.

Maddie Confronted by Margaret & Phillip 

The guard’s voice cut through the morning silence.

“You’ve got visitors.” Margaret and Phillip stood across the table, stiff and polished, their disappointment radiating like heat.

“Maddie,” Margaret said, sharp, cold. “We can’t… we can’t do this anymore. You’ve made your choices. You’re on your own now we are being ostracized by the community. .” Her chest tightened. Her pulse spiked. “You’re disowning me?” she spat, voice low and dangerous. Phillip didn’t answer. He just nodded once. Enough.

Maddie’s hands curled into fists. Rage burned in her chest, hotter than fear. “Fine. Go. Leave me. See if I care.” Margaret’s eyes flicked over her like she was inspecting something broken. “We’re done here.” The guard stepped forward. “Back to your cell, prisoner.”

Maddie seethed as they left, dragging her toward the door. She didn’t defend Buck, didn’t beg, didn’t soften. Her parents had abandoned her. She’d survive. She always had she can make friends it's always been easy. She will have these people at her feet. she’d make sure they never forgot the choice they made. In abandoning her 

Margaret & Phillip back in Hershey 

 Across the country, in their pristine white-shutter house, Margaret and Phillip Buckley faced their own kind of confinement. It didn’t happen all at once. The fall was slow, humiliating, impossible to stop. They thought if they weren't there it wouldn't catch them.

The trial summaries hit the internet again — someone leaked the full transcripts, including every awful detail they’d hoped to bury. Public opinion turned immediately. “ ' They raised' Buck? This explains so much. ”

“The narcissism is unbelievable.”

“Imagine failing your kids that catastrophically.”

“No wonder he cut them off. They're fucking despicable ”

Margaret tried to insist the media twisted things. Phillip muttered about “context.” Neither mattered. Their friends stopped answering calls. Three couples from their charity group quietly removed them from every group chat. Someone from Phillip’s old school he taught at made a post that went viral — a long, articulate reflection about how “looking back, the warning signs were always there.how timed and sad Evan was" Even their neighbors joined in.

The woman across the street, who once waved every morning, now watched them through narrowed eyes. Her teenage daughter whispered disgustedly every time Phillip appeared outside. Curtains shifted when they stepped onto the porch. Conversations dipped into silence. One morning, Phillip found a printed copy of the court report on the front step — heavily highlighted. Someone had circled entire paragraphs in red ink, underlined accusations, annotated sections with handwritten comments like:

“SHAMEFUL.”

“That was abuse assholes. ”

“Your son deserved better. And now he has a actual family you can't ruin” Margaret tore it up with shaking hands. The grocery store was worse. People didn’t confront them — they just looked. Long. Blunt. Knowing. A mother pulled her child closer when Margaret walked by.

A man whispered not quietly enough,

“That’s them. The Buckleys from the case.” Phillip clenched his jaw until it ached. Margaret kept her head down. The world they’d curated for decades had evaporated. At home, the silence echoed. Their fancy house had never felt emptier.

For the first time, Margaret wondered whether losing evan wasn’t their greatest tragedy — but their greatest indictment. 

Buck learned about it a few nights later 

quietly, almost accidentally. He sat on the couch, Lucas asleep against his chest, Eddie curled close beside him. The TV cast soft blue light across the living room when his phone buzzed with a notification.

A news headline.

Then another.

A trending topic.

His parents’ names.

He opened the article. Read it. Then another. Then another.

Eddie touched his arm gently. “What is it?”

Buck hesitated… then handed him the phone.

Eddie read in silence. Neighbors speaking out. Former friends criticizing. Public sympathy overwhelmingly with Buck. A quote from a psychologist analyzing patterns of coercive parenting.

Eddie exhaled slowly and placed the phone on the coffee table.

“Hey,” he murmured, thumb brushing Buck’s forearm. “You okay?” Buck watched Lucas sleep — warm, safe, loved — and for a long moment he didn’t answer. Then he nodded.Soft.Real.Grounded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think I am.” Eddie leaned in, forehead touching his. “You did the hard thing. You told the truth. Now the world finally sees it.”

Buck swallowed, a tremor moving through him — not fear this time. Relief. Quiet, unshakable relief. He wrapped his arm around Eddie, pulling him closer, and whispered into Lucas’s hair: “We’re safe. All of us.”

And for the first time in his entire life, Buck believed that down to the bone.

Chapter Text

one year in, where Maddie’s world has shrunk to concrete, humiliation, and the slow, suffocating realization that no one is coming to save her — and she did this, all of it.

One Year Into Her Sentence

By month twelve, Maddie didn’t bother looking at the visitor list anymore.

The first few months, she’d checked obsessively — waiting for Buck’s name, or Chim’s, or hell, even her parents’. Somebody. Anybody. Someone to remind her she existed beyond the crimes printed on thin legal paper and plastered across the news cycle.

But the screen always flashed the same thing:

NO VISITORS SCHEDULED.

Eventually she stopped looking.

Her bunk had been stripped weeks ago. The blanket that once felt thin now felt like a luxury she’d never deserved. After the second time someone stole it, she didn’t ask the guards for another — too many snickers, too many “Maybe if you didn’t piss off the whole pod, princess.”

The bruises on her ribs were yellowing now. The ones on her back hadn’t even started to fade. She’d learned to shower fast, head down, hands close to her body. Learned not to react when someone flicked water at her feet or “accidentally” elbowed her against the tile.

Her food tray today had a dark, wet spot on it. She didn’t need to ask what it was. She ate anyway. Hunger didn’t care about pride.

The worst part? Nobody even pretended anymore. They didn’t whisper behind her back — they laughed in front of her face.

“She thought she was better than everyone,” someone snorted from a table behind her.
“She still thinks it. Look how she walks.”
“Rich bitch doesn’t have her blanket tonight?”
“That’s the point. She deserves nothing but the fucking worse in life ”

Maddie kept walking.

She was thinner now, her cheeks drawn, her hair dull from crappy shampoo and constant stress. Her eyes looked older. Harder. Or maybe just emptier.

She didn’t say anything. Not to them. Not to herself. No one would listen anymore.  

Not even when she lay on her mattress — just a slab of plastic with stuffing so compacted it felt like sleeping on a cutting board — and curled into herself against the relentless cold.

She tried to imagine home.

Buck’s laugh.
Chim’s dorky smile when he talked about Jee. Before she ruined her marriage. 
The way Christopher used to run at her for hugs. Call her aunt Maddie with such a big smile.  
The sound of family dinners, the clatter of plates, the warmth of belonging.

But imagining it only made it worse. Made the regret and hate for life worse 

She had burned every bridge so thoroughly that nothing but ash remained. She had lied, manipulated, twisted, broken. And her family — the people she once counted on to forgive anything — had finally hit their limit.

They didn’t visit.

They didn’t write.

They didn’t call.

They didn’t ask about her.

The last time she’d heard Jee’s voice was when the visitation room and the little girl began to cry scared of her . Maddie pressed her fist against her mouth to stop the sob clawing up her throat, but it still broke out — a small, raw sound in the dark.

Across the pod, someone shouted, “Shut up dumb bitch !” She did.

Because they were right she had done this.
To them to herself to jee and Buck  To everything she had ever touched. After Daniel died and she killed Doug 

And now all she wanted — all she wanted — was to go home.

But she didn’t have a home anymore.

She had a sentence.

A concrete box.

No love no one needing her .No one to lie too and control ,No one left to blame only a mirror showing all her actions do have consequences No matter how wronged she felt about it. The people in this prison won't let her forget or push blame.