Golden Threads
Disclaimer: I don't own 9-1-1. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Evan Buckley's career at Firehouse 118 begins on a crisp, clear day in September. It's not the career move others would wish or expect for him, but firefighting is what he wants to do, and nothing and no one is going to change his mind. OOC. Series AU. Established Buck/OFC.
Tags: US Navy Seal Evan Buckley, Smart Evan Buckley, College Graduate Evan Buckley, Married Evan Buckley.
Rating: T-M for language, violence, adult themes, character death.
Chapter One
Evan Buckley's career at Firehouse 118 begins on a crisp, clear day in September. He's fresh from the Fire Academy, hand-picked by 118's Captain Robert Nash, and as far as signs from the universe goes, the cloudless, cornflower blue sky seems a promising one.
As it happens, the universe does not disappoint. It's 24 hours full of successful rescues, interspersed with thinly-veiled interrogations from his new teammates, and all things considered, it's a good day.
It goes without saying, of course, that not all of his shifts will go as well, but Evan Buckley is no stranger to tragedy. He's spent five years of his life as a Navy Seal, lost friends and comrades to war, and witnessed and participated in extreme acts of violence that he'll not soon (if he'll ever) forget.
Inevitably, such experiences have left an indelible mark on Evan's psyche, but beyond his own emotional trauma, they have also left him prepared for the rigours of work as a firefighter in ways that most Fire Academy graduates are not. It's an odd silver lining to what was ultimately a very difficult time in his life, though it's certainly not one Evan particularly cares to dwell on. He's put his time with the Navy Seals behind him (as much as possible, anyway), and he's done so without regret.
As such, he'll save such contemplation for his therapist's office, or at the VA group counselling sessions he occasionally still attends. Maybe.
Probably not.
"What do you think?" Captain Nash queries. He's an older man, his face worn by age and time and just life, and he's in charge of Evan's training. "Can you stand to make a career out of all this?"
"Absolutely."
As far as Evan is concerned, there's no other option. He has put a lot of time and energy into preparing for life as a firefighter. He's received and maintained his EMT and Rescue Diving certifications, and he's obtained Associate's Degrees in Fire Science and Fire Technology. He has vague, amorphous plans to study a Bachelor's Degree in Emergency and Disaster Management, and eventually, a Master's Degree in Public Administration. The Fire Academy is only the most recent step towards a post-seals career goal Evan has harboured for years, and his first shift with the 118 has only firmed his resolve. Firehouse 118 is where he wants to be, firefighting is what he wants to do, and nothing - not the pay cut, not the demanding hours, not the physical and emotional toll - is going to change his mind.
"Good," Captain Nash nods, pleased, "You did well today, Buckley."
"Thanks."
Captain Nash doesn't linger. He leaves Evan with a shoulder clap and an awkward head nod thing, and then retreats into the confines of his office to finish up his paperwork. As he does so, the rest of Evan's new team descend upon their newest team member like vultures, apparently not yet done with his interrogation.
Evan feels distinctly cornered. He contemplates the exit, eyes his new coworkers warily, breathes threw the instinct to fight or flee. He's not in any danger, he's not in a war zone, and his new colleagues are ultimately harmless.
"We were going to head out for breakfast," Hen informs him. She's a paramedic, competent and confident, and Evan hasn't yet decided if the description 'force of nature' does her justice. "Did you want to join us?"
"Thank you for the offer, but I actually already have breakfast plans," Evan demurs.
The breakfast plans in question involve a meal with His other half. She's fresh off her own shift, excited to learn about his first day on the job, and even more excited for some food, and especially excited for some sleep.
Frankly, Evan is, too. He's accustomed to even longer, even more gruelling hours, but he's also learned to sleep when he can, and he's not about to pass up an opportunity to do just that. Sleep is life, sleep (and play) with his wife is even better, and Evan's no psychic, but it's fairly safe to assume the next few hours will be the highlight of his day.
"Can I take a rain check?"
"Sure thing, Buck," Hen acquiesces, unruffled, "I'll hold you to it, in fact."
"No pressure, or anything."
Evan isn't thrilled by the new nickname, though he doesn't hate it, either. His platoon had called him 'Boomer' - partly a nod to his specialisation in Advanced Demolitions, partly an ironic dig at his age - but it's a name he won't ever share with the 118. It's tied up in too much of his past, in grief, and loss, and in bonds forged in blood, sweat, and tears. It's reserved only for the men who had become his brothers, and it's with them that the nickname will stay.
"No pressure," Martinez assures.
Evan makes eye contact with the other firefighter, huffs a laugh and shakes his head, and walks with the trio out of the firehouse. Hen and Chim chat idly about their respective plans for their downtime, Martinez texts someone on his phone, they all reach for their sunglasses.
"It's going to be a gorgeous day," Hen observes, wistful, "It's such a waste to spend half of it sleeping."
"The plight of shift work," Chimney intones.
"Don't sound so thrilled about it," Evan quips, preoccupied by the search for his keys, "It's only the rest of your life."
Chimney pulls a doleful face, Hen and Martinez laugh, Evan grins. He barely knows his new colleagues, and there's plenty of time for things to go wrong, but he has a good feeling about his new team, and about Firehouse 118, as well. They won't ever be the men - most of whom are lost - that had once become his brothers, but Evan is optimistic that something good might come out of his career change - something beyond helping civilians, that is - and he only hopes that he won't be disappointed.
In his pocket, Evan's right hand closes around his keys, and close by him, his team slowly begins to drift towards their respective cars.
"I'll see you guys tomorrow," Evan bids, and lopes over to his Jeep with a wave, "Enjoy your breakfast."
As he does so, he resigns himself to the knowledge that regarding his new team, only time will tell.
Author's Note: Hello, new fandom. Hope you enjoy a little thing I've been working on. Just a feel good, slice of life kind of a thing, because Buck deserves all the love (and I got bored of all the #buddie). Be kind, and until next time. -t.