Chapter 1: Not Enough, Bring Me The Sun
The bar was obnoxiously loud as Buck fiddled with his lukewarm beer, scratching a nail over the moisture-dampened label and watching as it crumbled beneath his fingers. It was an early Friday evening but clearly work was done for the day and people were ready to let loose and have fun.
Buck was maybe a little jealous.
A loud yell from a group of drunken men at the pool table to his left was quickly drowned out by the high pitched laughter coming from the back of the room; a large party of obviously tipsy women celebrating their friend's engagement if the easily overheard conversation was anything to go by. Buck 1.0 would've seized the opportunity to slide on over and buy the ladies a few drinks, flirt a little, but Evan wasn't that person any longer - hadn't been for a while.
Not that Buck 2.0 was faring much better considering he currently had no girlfriend (Ali had played the whole 'it's not you, it's me,' card, a conversation Buck was usually on the opposite end of, but damn did that shit hurt...) and no job ("liability issues, Buck, I'm sorry,"), so what did that leave him with?
Absolutely nothing, that's what.
Okay, so maybe not nothing. He still had Maddie and he still had his health. Although that'd been a pretty close call too, at one point.
Buck had lost count of the final number of surgeries he'd undertaken to fix the damage to his leg from the fire truck incident, not to mention the excruciating pain and the hours and hours of rehab just to ensure he would walk again. Luckily, all he had to show for it now were some gnarly scars and the ability to set off metal detectors at the airport without even trying (bonus, right?), but that didn't change the devastating reality that he wasn't allowed to go back to doing the one thing he cared about above all else: being a firefighter.
The minute he'd been given the all-clear, Buck had started training for his CPAT and recertification for the LAFD. It'd been a long and arduous two and a half months, but every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears had been worthwhile when he'd passed what he needed to get back on the job.
Except then the pulmonary embolism had happened and he'd choked on his own blood in front of his friends and family whilst suffering from undiagnosed blood clots. Laying back in that hospital bed, attached to a variety of medical equipment, the thought that he'd never be a firefighter again hadn't even entered Buck's brain.
Apparently, not everyone shared his optimism.
Bobby's confession in the emergency room today, after Buck had cut his arm on the smashed windscreen - an unfortunate consequence of saving a young man's life - had been like a knife to the gut. The blood thinners, probably the only things keeping Evan from a long-term stay in hospital, meant he was too high risk to return to saving lives with his team at the 118, and not even the fact that they had two fully trained paramedics on board at all times was enough to dissuade his Captain from agreeing with the board's decision.
In a fit of anger Buck had told the board - and Bobby in particular - to shove their offer of light duty where the sun didn't shine. He hadn't worked his ass off to get back to full health so he could sit at a desk and fill out paperwork for a living. He wouldn't even be in his current predicament if it wasn't for Bobby's past actions. That kid, he'd been out for Bobby's blood, not his. Evan had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Pretty much the story of his life.
It was wholly unfair, but that didn't change the fact that he now had no job and he'd probably lost the respect of his friends along the way.
Buck swallowed a mouthful of beer and ran a finger through the circle of condensation left behind on the table top, purposefully ignoring the white of the bandage sticking out from under his sleeve.
Saving that guy today, the poor man's head smashed clean through the windshield of the delirious woman's car, it'd reignited a passion that had been missing throughout the last five months of his recovery. Buck couldn't picture himself doing anything different, nor working with any other group of people. Bobby, Chim, Hen - and Eddie, with his goddamn adorable kid - they were just as much his family as Maddie was. They'd all played a massive part in making him the man he was today. He couldn't lose that.
Buck pushed his chair back and climbed slowly to his feet, abandoning his beer with a sigh. Mood ruined, he figured heading home to sleep it off instead of feeling sorry for himself seemed like a better use of his free time. Maybe when he woke tomorrow he'd be in a more positive headspace because dwelling on things certainly wasn't doing him any favours.
Buck didn't really know why he'd bothered leaving the house in the first place, except that he'd wanted to drown his sorrows - not that he was supposed to be drinking whilst on his medication, but one beer probably wouldn't kill him. Replacing the quiet solitude of his apartment with the rowdy atmosphere of the bar had seemed like a good idea an hour ago, but now his sour mood wasn't blending well with the raucous laughter and partying going on around him.
Decision made to leave, Buck froze as a smart-dressed man dropped down into the seat opposite, slamming two fresh beers onto the table. The stranger slid one over to Buck with a crooked grin.
"Evan Buckley: firefighter. Am I right?"
Buck offered a polite smile but remained silent, sliding both hands into his pockets as he tried to ascertain who the man was and why he knew his name. Observing his expensive suit and the crisp white shirt that showed no signs of being disheveled from a hard day's work, Buck thought he looked a little familiar. "Do we know each other?"
The blond chuckled, reaching into his pocket to pull out a business card. "We've met." Slapping the card onto the tabletop, he waited patiently for Buck to pick it up.
Buck did, and the glossy black lettering introduced the guy as Kev Lochert, a personal injury lawyer. At least he now knew why the guy looked familiar. "You were in my hospital room."
Kev didn't even have the grace to look embarrassed as he winked at Evan, slouching backwards in his seat to make himself more comfortable. "Here, take a seat. Join me for a drink."
Buck deliberated on making an excuse to leave but decided to throw caution to the wind. His empty apartment could wait for one more drink, and he hadn't technically finished his first beer. One more couldn't hurt, right? Not only that, but his curiosity was piqued seeing as this was the second attempt at contact the lawyer had made; the first being when Buck had been high on morphine and barely coherent in the days following his accident.
"You're looking much better than when I saw you last," the lawyer confirmed with a toast of his beer as Evan reclaimed his chair. "How's the leg?"
Buck took a mouthful of his own drink and forced himself to relax, one hand rubbing at the denim of his jeans instead of along the thick scars covering his leg. He was trying to break that habit. "All healed up, man; almost like it never happened."
Which was mostly true, if Buck ignored the occasional twinge when he moved the wrong way and the dull, all encompassing ache that took over his leg whenever the weather sucked or he'd been stationary for too long.
Lochert swallowed another mouthful of beer. "Well, that's good to hear. So you must be back saving lives with your buddies at the 118, right? Putting out fires and whatever?"
The awkward silence was enough of an answer that Buck didn't even need to open his mouth.
"Wait, really?"
The bark of laughter set Buck's nerves on edge and he had to grit his teeth against the urge to get up and walk away. Realising his reaction had been unexpected, the lawyer shook his head in disbelief and quickly explained.
"I mean, that's insane, right? Your own Captain's actions inadvertently caused the accident that nearly killed you and now he won't even let you back on the team?"
Buck fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, his own thoughts from earlier being thrown back in his face, except now he wanted nothing more than to defend Bobby. "It's a little more complicated than that, man."
"Not from where I'm sitting, it isn't. Evan, you deserve better."
Buck didn't have a comeback to that one so he took his time and studied the blond lawyer instead. He might not be the brightest, or even be known for making the smartest life decisions, but Buck wasn't stupid enough to not realise Kev Lochert was up to something, no matter how sincere he might be trying to sound.
"Listen," he began, abandoning his second beer for the night. "Thanks for the drink, but I really should get going."
Lochert held out a hand, making Buck pause. "Just hear me out, okay? If you don't like what I have to say, you can go, but I think you'd be an idiot to not even consider my offer."
The guy had already managed to track him down twice, so Buck figured he had nothing left to lose by allowing him another few minutes to say his piece. "Fine."
The lawyer's shark-like grin grew wider. "Smart man. Let me get you another beer."
"No, I'm good, thanks. I really shouldn't be drinking anyway," Buck admitted with a shrug of one shoulder.
Lochert raised an eyebrow but dragged his seat closer, giving Evan his undivided attention. "Okay, so, listen. The bombing of the fire truck and everything that took place that night was all over the news and in the national papers, right?"
Buck nodded slowly, ignoring the shiver of unease that hit at the casual way Lochert talked about that night. For Buck it had irrevocably changed his life, so far not for the better, and while he was extremely grateful that things hadn't ended worse - hell, he could've lost his leg - it still caused his heart to race and his chest to tighten whenever he was reminded of it. Sucking in a lungful of air, he had to force himself to pay attention to the other man's words.
"The publicity that received, Evan, that is what's going to work in your favour."
Buck had to play the words back in his head before they made sense. He'd clearly missed something. "Work in my favour for what, exactly?"
"For when you sue the department, of course."
Lochert casually sipped his beer, as if he hadn't just suggested the most outrageous thing Buck had ever heard. Sue the LAFD? As if...
"You're joking with me, right?" It was becoming clear that Buck had made a mistake agreeing to listen to this guy. "You've gotta be."
"I'm deadly serious, man." Lochert's face showed that he believed every word he was saying. "Think about it: everyone there that night went out of their way to lift that truck off you. You're, like, LA's most famous firefighter right now. The department won't want to mess with that, you know?"
Buck rolled his eyes, uncomfortable with the insinuation that he was anything other than a screw-up. "Seriously, it's been like five months. No-one's even going to remember me after that long."
Lochert wasn't going to be easily swayed, though. "Which is why you threaten to sue. Get the department to shit their pants a little, right? They won't want to risk word getting out that the firefighter the entire community pulled together to save isn't being allowed to go back to his job. There'd be a riot on their hands."
Buck sunk down lower into his seat, uncomfortable with the conversation. "Listen, I get what you're trying to say, but I don't think-"
"Trust me," Lochert interrupted, his voice rising with his excitement. "I know what I'm talking about. It's my job, remember? I do this kind of thing every day."
The blond lawyer finished the last of his beer with a flourish. "The LAFD will give you your job back in no time - anything to save them the embarrassment of you going public with their shitty actions. It's a no-lose situation."
Buck was starting to see where this was headed. "And you get what out of it, exactly?"
"Hey, can't a guy help someone out and it simply be from the goodness of his heart?"
Buck raised a disbelieving eyebrow and Lochert sniggered.
"Okay, you got me. The LAFD are likely to throw a ton of dollar your way to keep it all hush hush, so I'm not going to say no to, let's say, ten percent as a fee?"
Buck shook his head in disbelief. Obviously it would be nice to think this guy wanted to help him get his job back just because he was a decent person, but the reality of it was, as always, cold hard cash.
"You don't have to make a decision today, Evan. It's just a suggestion," Lochert amended with a more genuine smile. "But the sooner you shake my hand, the sooner we can get you back on that fire truck, you get me?"
Climbing to his feet, the lawyer held out his hand for Buck to shake. "You don't strike me as the kind of guy that usually drinks alone in a crappy bar on a Friday afternoon, man. Ask yourself: is this what you want to spend the rest of your days doing? Feeling sorry for yourself?"
Kev Lochert grabbed the business card still sitting in the middle of their table and slapped it against Buck's chest, forcing the younger man to take it. "I'll give you a couple of days to think things over and then I'll be expecting your call."
The lawyer patted him gently on the shoulder before heading toward the exit, leaving the bar without a word or a glance to any of the other patrons.
Watching him go, Buck let out a sigh as exhaustion hit him like a freight train coming into the station with no brakes. Running a hand through his longer-than-usual curls he let his gaze fall to the white piece of card still clutched in one hand, contemplating whether he could get away with another beer...or maybe ten. Getting drunk would make things so much easier.
It would be stupid to even consider the skeevy lawyer's offer, right? Suing the people he wanted to go back to work for seemed like crazy logic, even to him. Buck wasn't dumb; he knew Lochert was only offering his services as a means of making money - that was his job, after all - but that didn't mean he wasn't still tempted all the same. With the way things were now, Buck was unlikely to ever set foot back in the fire house. Did he really have anything more to lose?
Buck pulled out his cellphone and woke the screen with a tap of his finger, grimacing at the notifications that jumped out at him.
Eleven missed calls and eight unread messages.
Six of the calls were from Maddie and the rest were split between Eddie, Chim and Hen; all of them from within the last hour, which meant Bobby had obviously opened his mouth at the end of their shift and revealed to the team that he'd quit.
Ignoring the part of him that desperately wanted to take back his angry words from earlier, beg Bobby for that pathetic desk job, Buck let his stubborn side win and cleared the screen with a swipe. Tapping in the digits to Lochert's phone number instead, he saved the lawyer under a new contact and slipped the phone and business card into his back pocket before climbing to his feet and heading for the exit.
He had some thinking to do.