First of all, all grammar mistakes are mine.

I would have gotten this out sooner, but I went to Fright Night at a local amusement park. And while i stood in line for two hours alone for 1 ride alone, I was wondering why i wasted my time at a Fright Night when i could have been proofing this. Next time, there will be no next time.

8.7k word count. Let me know what you think.

Small disclaimer: I hate bashing characters, but this prompt idea- the lawsuit story- does require some bashing for the story to make sense. However, I try to treat them somewhat justice and will not go full on bashing. Please don't take offense.


Chapter 8:

First Thing First


A few months ago

Athena is many things, but for one and most importantly, she's a mother. A proud mother. A protective mother. She loves her kids with everything that she has, and there's nothing she won't do for them, including torpedoing her own career—something she has done a few times. She regrets none of it because her children are everything to her. Everyone who knows her knows this. She made sure Bobby—not that he was unaware—knew this when they started dating. Knew May and Harry will always come first, and she will go momma bear on anyone who threatened them.

God, she loves her kids.

The Buckley siblings are not her kids, but her maternal instincts comes out when she sees them, especially Buck. With Maddie, she was always impressed. With Buck, Athena, at first, was not impressive and was ready to write him off, but after saving that little girl, she decided to give him a chance, and with her eyes opened, she saw Buck for who he was. Buck is-was? Athena doesn't know anymore- a giant sweet heart, who wears his heart on his sleeve. His eyes shimmer, a smile blooming, under any kind of praise as if he can't believe it, and he deflates under criticism, even if he tries to wave it off. Every time, Athena wants to wrap her arms around him and protect him from the world.

It's how bright Buck beamed under Bobby's approval that Athena starts to put it together, her heart breaking when she thinks about it. For Buck, approval means everything, bordering on an obsession, as if his parents withheld it. As if he's making up for lost time. Buck doesn't have to say a single word about his parents for Athena to reach this conclusion: he had a horrible childhood. Between the Buckley's parents not showing up at either of their kids' countless hospital stays and not one mention of the parents tells her everything.

Her blood boils when she thinks about it. What kind of parent doesn't visit their children after a major incident? Not even a phone call? If it were May or Harry, she would break the law to get to the hospital. She would jump on the next plane and book it across the country. Again, there's nothing she wouldn't do for her kid, which she reminds them of daily. May and Harry laugh it off, but by the way they meet her stare, she knows they believe it without hesitation.

So, while neither Buckley is her child, she won't let that stop her from watching over them, especially Evan, as she smothers him with some mothering love. She tries to not overdo it, as he's a full-grown adult, and no full-grown adult wants some old ass—not that Athena refers to herself as old—hovering over. Granted, Buck never shied away from it, basking in it; the smile so large that Athena feels it in her soul.

Athena's heart constricts tightly when she thinks about the lawsuit. The Fucken lawsuit. She has mixed thoughts about it. Besides simply supporting her husband, Bobby had a point: having a firefighter on blind thinners is dangerous, but shit, she can't stand how Bobby went about it. Why couldn't he have been up front about it? No doubt things would've been different if Bobby had had an opened and honest conversion with Buck. That's what Athena can't understand. This is what pisses her off.

After the Lawsuit.

After Buck went back to work.

After the Halloween.

After a few months, she thought it would get better, but clearly, she was wrong, and now, Buck is gone. Her not child is gone, and she doesn't know how to feel. Yes, she's angry, but Buck being gone hits her on levels that are normally saved for May and Harry, which scares her. When did that happen? She bounces between angry and worry, each itching to burst from her chest. However, she stuffs down all of that and goes to work. She wants to lay into Bobby that second, but both Bobby and she are on duty. The brief conversion that they had isn't enough, leaving her with more questions than answers.

Knowing their conversion won't be pretty, she, without telling them about Buck, sends Harry and May to Michael's apartment for night. With the kids gone, the shield for Bobby is also gone when he walks into their home a few hours later. Initially, she plans on having a civil talk, but the second she hears the door opens, that changes. Maddie's teary puffy face, her eyes red, hunts her. "How was your shift?" she asks, her tone shocking cold, while she sits on the back porch with a drink in her hand. Taking a slip, she doesn't look back, even when his step grew nearer and louder.

Bobby, twisting the straps of his bag between his thumb and index finger, lingers in the door way. "It was…" He awkwardly drifts off for a moment before clumsily clearing his throat and asking, "I-is that what you… really want to know?" His voice drips, expecting a blow back of some kind.

Athena stares at the moon, dimmed by the lights of the city—the stars eased-, and lets out an angry huff. "I do. I want to see if this shift was any different. Was it quieter?" She hums viciously, running her tongue her teeth. "I spoke to Maddie earlier, and she is barely keeping it together. That girl is devastated. Is it the same for you?" She kicks her feet over the side of the lawn chair, her eyes dropping to her drink. "So, are you celebrating?" She trips over the word, the drink morphing into Maddie's visage. Her heart breaks thinking about the elder Buckley, who has been through enough already. She doesn't deserve this.

If Athena, nose flaring, expects Bobby to bend under her anger, she's wrong. He matches her irate. "That's not fair." Bobby states firmly, a heavy frown on his face. "I-"

"Not fair?!" Athena croaks, as she, her rage driving, jumps to her feet, her hands balled at her side. Maddie's pained expression disappears from her vision and is replaced by Bobby's teary face from earlier. Were those tears a lie? A lie to get her to leave? "Pray tell. How is that unfair? Tell me how treating Buck like a leaper is fair."

Bobby doesn't flinch, his entire body stiffens. Any prior remorse is gone, and he's ready for a fight. "I did what I thought was best. I'm sorry that it happened like this. I can admit that I made mistakes, but I won't take all the blame!" Bobby meets her hot stare for 40 seconds before he relents and twists away. "I may've treated him coldly, but I did not treat him like a leaper." He huffs, breathing through his nose. "I'm the Captain. I was doing my job, making sure he was up to the job. I've to do what's right for the station even if it isn't pretty."

Athena's eyes wide, her heart tightening in her chest. "Pretty?" She chokes on the word. "Is that how you describe it? Pretty?! You destroyed that boy!" Buck is not her son, but she's going to stand up for Buckley siblings.

Bobby stares, his eyes in narrow points, as he tries to judge her anger. "I'm sorry. I truly am. Looking back, I can see that I pushed too hard. I didn't mean to hurt him, but everything isn't about him." He huffs, as his right-hand fly to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He doesn't say anything right away, pondering his next words. "H-he wasn't… isn't ready. He's on blood thinners." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Tell me what I should've done." He closes his eyes before he runs his hand down his face. "I couldn't take him on calls! I couldn't risk him getting hurt on a call. We can't split attention between him and the person we came to save!"

It's a valid point, no denying that, but it doesn't settle the beast in Athena. "For one, you should've talked to him! Actually, talked to him."

Bobby, eyes snapping open, huffs violently, as he begins to pace the length of the dining room. "You don't think I tried? I tried! He wouldn't listen! He never listens!"

Athena, surprised by his outburst, stands in the doorway and silently observes him. She has rarely seen this level of rigidity in him, it only reserved when the shit hit the fan, and hearing Bobby's voice crack pulls at her heart strings, but the idea of Buck alone in the world breaks her heart. "No, you didn't try. You passed the buck and tried to pin it on him as if this is all Buck's fault."

His back to his wife, he halts in his step, his eye drilling into the countertop, and his brain freezing for 30 seconds before he whips around. "Don't tell me what I tried to do." He jags his finger into the center of his chest, his eyes laced with both anger and sadness. "I had to make the hard choices. Buck wasn't ready." His hands shake as he throws his both hands in the air.

The fear in his eyes stuns her, his eyes glossing over as memory replays in them. Athena's anger cracks. If this wasn't about Buck, she would take her husband into his arms and hold him tight. "He wasn't ready? Or you weren't ready?" Just as Buck is not her son, he is not Bobby's son, though there's no denying the special connection Buck and Bobby have—had. The connection that they had. (Athena shudders at the past tense.) Bobby, smiling, would deny it while Buck would make jokes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bobby bites back.

Athena knows how hard it's to fight that urge, that protective urge, because she has gone overboard with May and Harry, but-yes, that's a huge but—she will never make them feel unloved. "You were scared to let him back. Too scared to lose him. You weren't thinking about him. You were only thinking about yourself."

Bobby, his breathing heavy, staggers back as if he has been slapped. It takes a moment for him to collect his thoughts before he snaps, "I was thinking about him, every single call. Due to the blood thinners, one bad cut could kill him." He stares at her, not understanding why she can't understand this. "Just look at how much blood he lost on Halloween. I was called to the ER because he was 'just helping out.'" His voice cracks.

Stepping forward until her legs hit her dining room table, Athena remembers that call, remembers how Buck lit up at helping someone, finally being useful. She thought that things would change after that, but she was wrong, very wrong. She's boiling at being duped. "So, what's your excuse now? He hasn't been off those blood thinners for a month."

"My excuse now?" Bobby parrots back, both dumbfounded and exasperated. "That wasn't an excuse."

"My point still stands." Bobby's claims do have validity, and being on blood thinners is a no go for many jobs, being a police officer for example, but that doesn't snuff Athena's anger.

Bobby's next step falters, him wobbling back and forth, before he rounds the countertop for a drink. His hand on the cabinet door, he says, "He sued the department," while opening it. Using too much force, the door flies open, banging against the wall. Bobby suppresses the flinch as he grabs a glass. "He refused to listen. He refused to take 'no' as an answer." He crosses to the stink and turns on the faucet. After filling his glass, he swirls it, sprinkling his hand with water. "…No one trusted—trusts him. No one wanted to go into a fire with him. What was I supposed to do?" He takes a deep breath, his anger breaking. "I wasn't going to risk the team… He has to build up that trust again. I can't force the house to be friends with him. I can't force them to talk to him."

"No one asked them. Just treat him as respect." Athena's heart breaks. Buck must've been so lonely.

"You can't have respect without trust." He pauses. "And he has to obey my rules first as well."

"Your rules?" She echoes, softly. How was she this blind? How did she miss this? If Bobby believed this, why didn't he just transfer Buck? "What does that mean? What did you do?"

Bobby stops swirling his glass and watches as the water comes to a gradual stop. With a huff, he downs it as if he's drinking whiskey, an old habit dying hard, and he says, breathing deeply though his nose, "yes, my rules. He has to learn that our duty is to the city. And he has to do it flawlessly."

"So, you broke him down every shift?" She feels sick to her stomach.

Bobby stares at her. "As a Captain, it's my job to make sure any firefighter under me is up to the task. As I can't trust him like every other guy in that house, I've to be on him. Sure, I've to be harsh, but he's a grown man. If he can't handle it..."

"And what about Eddie?" Athena snaps. How is Buck the bad guy here?

"What about him?"

Did she marry a fool? Athena folds her arms across her chest, a permanent frown on her face. "Eddie almost killed a man and broke countless laws while doing it. He's lucky he isn't in cuffs for illegal street fighting, and yet, he gets a pass? He came to work bloody." Originally, she had no interest in seeing Eddie, who was going through something, in cuff, but now, the urge is strong.

"Don't bring Eddie into this. That's different."

"How?" She bustles. When he doesn't respond, she asks, "And what about Chimney and his injury?"

Bobby puts his glass down. "Now you sound like Buck."

"And you sound like a stranger." She crosses to the countertop, directly opposite of Bobby. It's hard to look at him, who looks nothing like the man she loves. "Buck wanted to be with the only family he ever had. Do I agree with lawsuit? No, but I know why he did it. He was fighting to get back. Why can't you see that?!" The way Bobby is with his firehouse family is one reason why she loves him. "He went to that lawyer out of desperation, wanting to be listened to."

"That lawsuit could've destroyed the house. We could've lost our jobs due to what Buck told his lawyer."

Lawsuits are messy, one of the fastest ways to nuke a friendship, but she thought the 118 was strong enough to withstand it. "I'm not invalidating your feeling. I understand how it must've felt," Athena states slowly, her voice softer than before. "I'm simply fighting for Buck! His feelings are valid too. That boy is hurting. Why is that hard to understand?" She marches to the line of photos on a side table and picks up one. Her heart grows as she states at it. Shaking her head and her frown returning, she crosses back to Bobby and shoves it into his hand. "What happened to people in this photo? What happened to make you not care? …Unless you don't care."

Bobby's hands shake as he turns the frame over and promptly chokes on his tongue, grasping as a smiling Buck stares up at him. His heart pounds in his ear, his lungs failing. "O-of course, I care!" he shouts when he finally catches his breath. The photo was taken prior to the fire truck bombing and is one of the last ones that Bobby and Buck has taken together. In the photo, Buck is leaning against Bobby, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, and laughing at something Bobby said. Bobby, grinning, tries to keep him up.

Athena's heart softens at the heartbroken frown on Bobby's face. Is she getting through to him? "Then how did we get to his point? How did we get to the point that Buck runs away without a single word?" It's easy to deny it, but saying it aloud breaks something within her. "He's gone. Apart of our family is gone." Buck is not her son, but it feels like a part of her family is gone.

"Athena…" He utters, his breathing shaky.

She stares at him, eyeing the quiver in his shoulder. "Do you finally realize what your words and actions did to Buck? That your words ripped him apart."

"We-I didn't b-bully Buck." He protests strongly, though there's no masking the shudder that runs through his body. "Y-you're twisting my words."

"Did you have one conversion in the last few months that wasn't a critique?" Athena is a bit surprised at his shook. Is he acting stupid? Or is he just clueless? "So, you and the entire house didn't coldshoulder and criticize Buck, a man who has been shunned and abused his entire life. And he left on his own?"

"What?" His voice dips.

"You never wonder why Buck never talked about his parents? His childhood? Or why the hell they never showed up at the hospital for him or his sister? Never wondered about Buck's past? Or why he only shared a few pieces of his life?" She pauses. "Did you even know him?" She knows she shouldn't judge Bobby too hard, considering she never asked Buck about his past either, but did they need to? That boy screamed 'Mommy/Daddy issues.'

A few minutes go by, his mind spinning. The glass slips from Bobby's hand, shattering when it hits the floor, as he stumbles back, his back smacking the sink. "…I don't know."

Athena's eyes drop to the shattered glass, but she doesn't move. Her mind, as if he hasn't been on her mind all day, drifts to Buck. Is that shattered glass a metaphor for Buck? Is he broken beyond repair? "Maybe, you should think about that. Think about how you torn him down. Think about how you broke him."

Bobby's body shakes beneath, and he collapses, his legs giving out. A horrifying realization passes across his eyes, "…I… No…"

She loves this man with all of her heart, but right now, she hates him and can't find it in her to comfort him through the tremendous guilt that he must be feeling. "Under the guise of being a Captain, you tormented a man who has been alone his entire life. What did you think would happen? You, Eddie, and everyone else in that firehouse tormented that boy by your silence alone. You should be ashamed of yourself."

As if he has been slugged, Bobby's cries echo out from the kitchen. "God, what have I done?"

At this point, Athena is done, but there is one last thing she wants to know. "So, what did you tell the Chief?" She knows very little, only knowing that it was an uncomfortable conversion.

"…Buck didn't tell him anything." Comes Bobby shaky voice. "He just handed in his resignation and left. Refused to sit for an exit interview. That's why Chief Hernández wanted to talk. He's baffled by the entire thing. He wants to know why a firefighter, who would turn down 7 figures to get his job, quit 4 months later. More like demanded answers."

Athena stares at the tear that rolls down her husband's cheek. "Did you tell him the real version?" A small sob rolls out from Bobby's mouth, which she takes as an no. "So, your version." She pauses as she, taking her eyes off him, turns to the side. "That's telling, don't you think? If you did what you thought was right, why not tell him?" She grimly laughs, her heart cold. "Funny don't you think? The 118 turns their back on Buck, but he protected your ass." The very thought burns her blood, and too scared to stay here with her anger, Athena gets her purse and heads out the door. She pays no attention to the sobs that erupts from her husband lips.


*O*O*


The Present

Buck barely has the state of mind to kick his boots off and toss crappy phone before he, fully clothes, jumps into the shower and turns on the cold water on full blast. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, letting the ice-cold water hit his face and roll down his body, leaving a trail of goosebumps, as he tries to numb the feel of Severide's hot, phantom, haunting touch. His skin still hot from, the ice-cold water feels like a million bee strings, and it takes everything in him not to leap out. Rolling his shoulders, he lets out a large huff, which is followed by some 'You're fine' chants.

He could kick himself for saying yes and allowing Severide to put his soft but callous hands on him, but God, he misses the feel of another person, a simple touch sending him through the roof. He isn't sure if it's because it's Severide or because he's touched starved, but he never wanted it—whatever Severide was doing- to end. He could've spent hours under Severide's hands, moaning and groaning like some fucken cat in heat. Just thinking about turns his face bright red, and shit, his dick twitches just thinking about it.

"No. No." he spits, both loudly and panicky, out to himself as his hand shots forward and tries to twist the cold farther to the right, not that twist anymore. "Fuck." He utters in defeat. Leaning forward—the icily water now hitting his back-, Buck rests his forehead against the cold tile and grunts in an irritated exasperation and sexual frustration. "Dead puppies." He utters, trying to refocus his mind on something else, anything else. "Wet socks." Within 3 minutes, he's soaked to his core. A shiver runs down his spin, every hair on his body sticking up. Everything, including his boxer briefs, are wet, adding an uncomfortable wet layer to his already itchy skin.

"Dead puppies." He repeats again. Still feeling that heat in gut, he tries to force the less sexual images forward. "Old naked grandfathers with saggy balls." Any thoughts of Lieutenant Kelly Severide are dangerous, bringing up desires he has long since buried, and he can't go down that road again. He just can't. He needs to keep his head down and do his job, a job he loves. That's why he's here. That's all he wants to do, all he needs. He wants to be a firefighter, and he's going to do it with his head screwed on straight and his dick in his pants.

It takes 10 minutes before Buck's able to calm his second head and stop the tingle beneath his skin, a tingle originating from the spot Severide touched him. To make sure everything is settled, he stays under the cold stray of the shower for 20 additional minutes before he finds the courage to turn the water off. Immediately, he's hit by a wave of shivers as the cold frigid air of the locker hit him, and yet, he makes no motion to move, only swaying back and forward. He listens, feels the water droplets trickle down him—his clothes- as they bombarded the tiles in a constant motion.

"Time to move, Buckley." Buck tells himself, though he lingers in place for another minute. After a few shaky breaths, he finds the will to move, though almost falling on his face. With no traction due to his wet socks, he slips several times when he pushes back the shower curtain and steps out, barely catching himself. He bites, almost to the point of blood, down on his lip to stop the stings of curse words on his tongue. While he's unaware if the entire house is up (though it's likely as the natural light peeps through the window), he knows Foster and Fucken Severide are up, and he has no interest in explaining his wet state to them. The questions will send him send him into an early grave.

After quickly pulling off his wet socks, Buck, boots in hand- his phone in his right boot—, leaves a wet footprints as he makes his way to his temporary locker for his back up uniform. His skin tinges, his goosebumps having goosebumps, and he forces back a squeeze that is tickling his throat. His minds wanders as he starts to peel off his wet clothes, though the wet texture snaps him back. It's like he's peeling off a layer of skin, a sensation that sends willies down his spine. Buck tries his best to ignore it when he hears sudden footsteps around the corner. An intense panic and shame raise up inside of him, scaring him out of the locker room with his wet clothes.


*O*O*


Though there's only an hour left in the shift, Buck happily changes into his spare dry clothes and tosses his wet ones into the dryer after warring with himself for a good ten minutes. He's half tempted just to toss the wet clothes into his bag and deal with them later to avoid questions but considering he doesn't have a washer or dryer at his place, it's easier to toss them in. Plus, it gives him the added bonus of hiding from the rest of the firehouse and whoever those footsteps belong to. Though his skin is no longer tingling, he's not ready to face Severide, especially without blushing.

Instead, he hides here with his phone. When his phone cracked leaving LA, he originally brought a cheap flip phone to replace it, which was a blessing, as it stopped him from caving in and calling Maddie and anyone else from the 118. The sound of Maddie's teary voice would—will crack his resolve and sent him running, which scares the crap out of him, as he will end up exactly where he started: depressed and alone. Though, this time Maddie will be there next to him, which is the last thing he wants. He wants her to be happy, truly happy with Chimney.

It wasn't until he started as a floater for the CFD that he upgraded from that crappy flip phone to a somewhat okay smartphone with a shitty camera. The purpose of a shitty camera is to discourage social media posts in a complete opposition of LA Buck. In a pervious life, the social media blackout would've felt like a cruel curse to Buck, though he can't deny that it doesn't still. When you put a lot of your life on the internet, it's a hard habit to break, the urge to pick up your phone and post, but he will take that little traitorous feeling in his gut rather than the stress of constantly having to police himself. Much like an alcoholic dumping out any alcohol in their home.

Buck, his eyes bouncing between the door and the game on his phone, is crammed in the corner of the tiny room between the dryer and the wall and faces the door as if he's expecting an arm assault. No matter how many times he tries, he can't relax, and as the house wakes, this unnerving sensation spikes every he spots someone in the hallway outside the tiny room, though no one notices him. Even time Severide walks pass the door a few times, Buck's heart stops. In fit of defiant and frustration, Buck's forces his eyes down to his phone, his music pounding in his ear, and gets lost in his phone.

It's the loud scream of the dryer that draws Buck's attention from his phone, and he, mouth dry, blinks a few times, reality snapping back to him, him hiding in the laundry room. The last time he glanced up, the timer on the dryer read 42 minutes, and now it's blinking a bright zero. His brain glitching, it takes a second to mentally process that his clothes are done and for his body to catch up and move. He, fighting back his fatigue from not sleeping, switches off the screen and slips the phone into his pocket, though missing on the first few tries. The bones in his back crack painfully as he kicks himself into auto pilot and stuffs his now dry clothes into his bag.

Buck, his eye lids heavy, fights back an intense yawn, exhaustion hitting like an 18-wheeler. It's a battle to stay upright. While there've been a few times that he has slept in the bunker, he tends to stay up and rest in the common room at night if he needs. Buck doesn't have nightmares every night, but they're common post law suit, and if he wakes up in a cold sweat and a chilling scream on his tongue, he doesn't want to explain them to his fellow bunker mates. No one wants a weak firefighter, plagued by nightmares, on their team.

With a deep breath, he steads himself, throws his bag over his shoulder, and walks out of the laundry room, almost colliding with Chief Boden who chooses that very moment to walk by. "Shit." He curses ducking out of the way at the last second, his bag slipping from his hand. His shoes squeak in protest. "Sorry." Buck spits out, not proud of the squeal that bursts out of his mouth. "S-sorry."

Chief Boden's eyes narrow in confusion and concern as he observes Buck's mini freak out. He loudly clears his throat and calls, "Buckley." Said Man's head pops up, his heartbeat in his ear and an intense fear in his eyes. "You okay?"

"Y—yea." He utters as he straights himself out.

"Surprise to still see you here." Boden's eyes are like a hawk.

Breathing out his anxiety though his nose, Buck explains, though leaving out the part of how. "Yea, uniform got wet. Wanted to through it in the dryer before I head home."

A question lingers in Boden's eyes, but he does not ask it, and judging by the small shake of head and the slight upturn of his lips, he's used to this sort of nonsensical, odd behavior of the firefighters under his command. Instead, he says, "Glad, I caught you."

Buck leaves his bag on the floor for now and takes a hesitant breath, his eyes darting pass the chief and down the hallway. He sees the unfamiliar faces of the third shift, a clear sign that he was in the laundry room longer than he intended. "Is there an issue, Sir?" he asks, his attention zipping back to Boden. His throat is desert dry.

"Ferraris will be back at the next shift, which…means you're going back into floater rotation." Boden answers evenly.

Though Buck knows his spot at 51 is only temporary, his chest goes ice cold and the air is knocked out of his lungs. Although he's still up right, it feels like someone has knocked Buck's legs out from beneath him and his stomach drops. Isn't this what you wanted? The little voice in his head taunt, but with Boden's words echoing in his head, Buck can firmly state that he's fully of shit. Yes, his heart interjects loudly, as he deflates. This painful numb in his heart is the exact reason he doesn't want to float at any house for any length of time. "Um… okay. I'll go collect my gear and…um leave." His words taste like acid on tongue, but there's nothing else to say.

"Buckley." Boden calls. "You did good. A fine firefighter."

Buck's next words just roll off this tongue like a cold and distant automated response. "Thanks, Sir." He puts an abrupt stop to his current thoughts and solely focuses on getting his gear. If he let himself feel, it's game over, and he can't yet that happen here, not here. "Have a good day, Sir." He can feel Boden's eyes on him, an unspoken comment on his tongue as he picks up his bag, his hand, but Buck doesn't stop and makes his way to collect his things. He doesn't let his mind stray to Severide's green eyes.

*O*O*

When Buck first decided to stay in Chicago, he researched the best places to live, but his choices were limited due to his part time status and his money situation. Being out of work for two months while traveling route 66, his savings were—still is—running low. Plus, it didn't help buying items for his tiny apartment, his furniture locked away in a storage facility in Los Angeles. After some searching, he was able to find a one-bedroom apartment in his price range. While it isn't in the best part area and there're bars on the window, it isn't in the worst part of town (some will still consider it shitty) and the neighbors are mostly nice; plus, there's a laundromat in walking distance, which Buck counts as a plus.

When he first moved in, he received a few puzzled stares and some accusations of being a cop (probably due to his size and race), which made conversations tense. Most of the residents did- do not like cops, and while Buck will never understand himself, he doesn't judge them for that. Besides, after saving Miss Isabel Jackson—a 72-year-old elderly lady—from a kitchen fire a few weeks after moving in and everyone learning that he is a firefighter, his stock went off. Apparently, Miss Jackson, while no grandkids of her own, is the apartment grandma, and if she gives her approval, you are golden.

After that day, Miss Jackson smiles at him when she sees him and hands him an egg and bacon breakfast sandwich, which Buck takes. When this first started, he tried to wave her off, but with a stern look and a "You saved my home," Buck relented and have been taking the sandwich ever since. Buck would be lying if he says he doesn't like it, it warming his heart each times she hands it to him.

"Oi, the fireman!" One of the teenage resident waves a floor up waves. "Put any fires out?"

"Just one."

The teen's, though he tries to hide it, face lights up. "Tell me about it."

Playfully rolling his eyes, Buck answers, briefly giving the teenage an overview, as he tosses him the sandwich. This is also a tradition that started after the famous kitchen fire, and the teenage—15 if Buck has to guess—started to hound him, shooting out a million questions, after every shift. During one of these 'morning briefing', the Teen's stomach growled like an angry cat, and without prompting, Buck tossed him the sandwich, even though his own stomach howled. From that point, if he sees the kid, he tosses Miss Jackson's sandwich to him. Anyone else would've been annoyed at the lost meal and the hypered up teen, but not Buck. He answers the 10 to 15 questions until saying, "okay, I'm going to fall over. Night. kid."

The teenage, with his mouth full, waves him goodbye and heads back to his apartment. "See ya, Firefighter."

The next few residents aren't so nice, one irritably yelling at his girlfriend to get back inside before disappearing into the apartment behind her. Buck learned quickly that intervening makes it worse for the girlfriend, and though Maddie's once bruised face haunts him, he won't let the girl get hurt because he can't keep his mouth shut. However, he does let the girl know he's there if needed, though she angrily waves him off with a firm 'mind your business' before she slams the door in his face. The next neighbor makes jokes about Buck to his buddies, apparently being firefighter is funny. Buck knows better than to correct that notion.

When he reaches to the landing of his floor, he notices a group of individual rough housing at the of the hall. He doesn't give it much thought, the need to sleep overriding everything, but he does a noticeable double check when he notices a familiar looking officer, the plainclothes from before, in the group. Buck just blinks, his exhaustion disappearing for a second, as his brain errors. Those individuals are totally anti-cop and totally shady. By shady, Buck means shady, and he has no interest whatsoever in knowing more as he's pretty sure that will get him killed. While Buck has been accused of having a death wish countless times, he truly does not want to die. He really, really does not want to die. Though he may currently not have any goals in life besides being a firefighter, he plans on living a long life.

A long, lonely life, his mind interjects. A long life with no friends… which he has no one to blame besides himself. He's the one cutting himself off from the world, from his sister. Being on his own for years, receiving no love from his parents, he thought he could handle it, and for a while, he did. The emptiness that buried itself in his heart was held back behind the excitement of being on the road, but the second, he looks up, his resolve bends. With each passing day, the emptiness doubles, and the self-doubt and the self- deprecation, are screaming at him on full blast, eating away at him.

When he joined the CFD, it got better, his heart feeling lighter. There's nothing better than putting on the gear, and just like that, his resolve is back. He's better than he has been in month, finally able to breathe. (No, he does not need a therapist!) Yet, his equilibrium is off, which he hasn't noticed. It wasn't until he floated at Firehouse 51 a few times that he noticed, which bugs the crap out of him. He enjoys living in his little bubble, his emotions hidden by his firewalls. Now, he is ball of mess with an intense yearning that he can't get rid of.

Letting him himself into his apartment, he drops his work bag and kicks the door shut behind him. With a deep sigh, he falls back against the door, his hand dropping to his side and mindlessly locking the door, as he eyes his small apartment. It's nothing like his LA apartment, which is almost twice the size, but Buck isn't complaining. Sure, the three rooms (kitchen, living room, bedroom) are small, feeling like a small box at times, and the water pressure sucks, Buck never knowing what he's going to get. The heater is temperamental with some days being sweater days. But yet, this place is more comfortable, more freeing than his old LA apartment had been in his final days there.

However, he could do without the random gun shots in the middle of the night.

Buck is so tired that he could sleep right here standing up. Shit, he almost does, his eyes refusing to open for three solid minutes. It takes a few nonsensible mumbles to himself before he finally finds the will to move and make his way to his bedroom. He's on auto pilot and just falls into bed when his knees hit the bedframe. He closes his eyes, and while taking a large, deep breath, he rolls over.

And yet, five minutes later, he's wide awake, that overwhelming exhaustion gone. Buck's right eye twists, wanting nothing more than to sleep. Fuck. It doesn't take much soul searching for him to know why. His fucken heart. Why does he get so attached so quickly? This is his problem. He got attached to Firehouse 51. He wants to ignore how it felt like a punch to the gut when Boden told him Ferraris is returning, but he can't. He can't forget how amazing it felt to be a part of a team. He can't forget how amazing it felt to laugh with them. He can't forget how amazing it is for someone to care.

Buck also can't forget how warm he felt when Severide touched him.

"God dammit," Buck curses, realizing he has done the exact opposite of what he planned. While his shields are still up, the cracks are showing, his desires leaking through. He is letting himself hope again, letting himself dream again. They will hurt you, and you know that. His mind supplies, his old team's critiques echoing vociferously in his head. They will always hurt you. "No, they won't. No, they won't." he mutters to himself.

There's no spot for you. Eyes popping open, Buck stares at the ceiling. "But Firehouse 40 does…" he takes a deep breath. He ignores the drop his stomach takes. "But what do you want?" He can't answer, but he will say that he doesn't want to be alone anymore.

*O*O*

Matt Casey has known Kelly Severide for over a decade, having been through the trenches together. While there're times where they've been at each other's necks, Matt wouldn't change it for anything. They're ride or die brothers, nothing they won't do for the other. Though Kelly drives him nuts, Matt's life is better with Kelly in it. Yes, his stress levels are higher, and he has a heck more hassle to deal with. Yes, Matt can do without the many nights that Kelly drags him out at 10pm to some bar. (He's too old for that crap.) But Kelly is his brother, and he loves him.

That being said, Matt knows Kelly like the back of his hand. Knows when something is up. Knows when something is wrong, and he definitely tell when Kelly has taken a special interest in something or someone. While Kelly will deny it, there's no denying how big his heart is or how he will go to the end of the earth to help those he cares about. Matt has seen this many times over. He has seen it with that lost firefighter with an alcohol problem, who Kelly helped reconnect with his former team. He has seen it every time Kelly took a young firefighter under his wing. He may deny it, but Kelly has a huge heart. You just have to get over his walls first.

However, the stuff going on with the Floater Evan Buckley is a different story. At first, Matt waves it off, because let's face it, there's something odd about the floater, and he has at times stared at Buckley trying to figure it out. Of course, he has been more subtle and less creepy about it. Nevertheless, there's a story behind those sad blue eyes, and while he wants to ask, he doesn't push, especially when Buckley is keeping a health distance between him and everyone else. Plus, everyone has a right to their secrets. All Matt can do is be there and make sure the man has a soft landing when he comes down. Though, Buckley may be doing so already if that smile in the common room/kitchen is any inkling.

With Kelly, it goes beyond the protectiveness of a captain or lieutenant over a firefighter beneath them. When Herrmann mentioned the incident between Kelly and Grainger at Molly's, Matt's eyebrow is in his hairline, his brain spinning. If Buckley had been a woman, Matt would've thought Kelly's interest are sexual in natural, but from as far as Matt knows, Kelly is a lady's man through and through.

And yet…

Yes, Kelly has stared at Buckley trying to figure him out, Matt mentioning HR as a joke a few times, but his eyes has dropped south far too many times and Matt could've sworn he has seen Kelly staring at Buckley's ass on more than one occasion.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" the man in question asks, as he strolls out of his bedroom, already dressed in his uniform.

Matt glances up at Kelly, eyeing the smile on his face. "What's with that smile?" Kelly is usually all smiles, but his smiles are bigger than normal lately.

Kelly cocks his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why does there need to be anything up? Am I not allowed to smile?" He crosses to the cabinet, reaching for a cereal bar.

After a quick look at the clock, Matt decides against playing a million questions. Honestly, he isn't sure if Kelly knows what he's doing. Kelly seems to unconsciously drift toward Buckley, his eyes going to Buckley the second he walks into the room. A smile appears on his face. Matt knows he's missing some interactions between Buckley and Kelly, especially for Kelly to be so damn protective. According to the rumor tree (Foster telling Brett, who told him), Buckley awkwardly bolted from the room—from Kelly—when Foster entered the room.

While Matt doesn't want to believe Kelly was or is currently being inappropriate, he will check in with Buckley to make sure he is comfortable at 51. "Well, your smiles usually mean something." Matt playfully winks at him.

Kelly rolls his eyes, while pretending to be hurt. "Geez, I can't even smile." He opens the cereal bar, stuffs it into his mouth and tosses the empty wrapper into the trash. With his mouth full, he adds, "I'm heading out."

Matt gives him a look of pure disgust. "Do you have to talk with your mouth full?" Grabbing his coffee thermos, he follows him out.

"You don't have to look."

With a deep sigh, Matt rolls his eyes, asking himself why the hell he still living with Kelly.


*O*O*


Though taking two vehicles, both Kelly and Matt arrive at the firehouse within minutes of each these other, and without a word, Kelly falls into place next to Matt as they walk up the driveway. A step head of Kelly, Matt is the first to notice Ferraris as he chats with Capp and Cruz at the squad table. He doesn't think much of it until Kelly freezes next to him. The smile that Matt has spotted mere seconds ago is gone, his shoulder stiff and his jaw locked. Matt, worried, stared at him. "You okay?"

Kelly huffs. "Yea."

Matt doesn't have to expert in kinesics to spot lie. He narrows his eyes, observing the small twitch in corner of Kelly's eye. "Is there something I should know, Severide?"

Suddenly as if the hard stare was never there, Kelly turns to him and smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Everything is good." Abruptly, Kelly turns to his squad. "Tony!" he yells, his hand waving in the air, as he makes his way over.

Matt doesn't move and watches the interaction between Squad three—Kelly more specifically. While his best friend is smiling, patting Ferraris on the back, the cheer in his voice played up. This entire situation is ringing all the bells. Shaking his head, he moves his way over to the group. "Good to see you, Ferraris." Matt greets. "How is everything?"

"It was touch and go for a little bit, but my mother is good now." Ferraris answers, all smiles. "I'm glad to be back at work. Missed you guys."

"Oh, really? Even this guy?" Casey teases, as he grabs Kelly by the shoulder and squeezes. While not unexpected judging by his earlier frown, Matt is stunned by how rigid he is. Something is definitely up.

Kelly rolls his eyes, while Capp goes, "You're lucky. Severide would've given your spot away to the Floater if you didn't show up."

Cruz laughs while shooting out, "Still not too late. I'll trade him for one of you."

Kelly's right eye twitches, though Matt is the only one to catch it. "Don't worry, Ferraris. You're stuck with us." Kelly teases. "Let me put this away and we can catch up." He turns and leaves.

Matt lingers back and studies the weight in his best friend's shoulders as Kelly disappears down the hallway before he follows. When he catches up with Kelly, he's sitting across from his locker, mindlessly staring at his name. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

With a deep breath, Kelly reaches forward and opens his locker. "Nothing. I'm fine." The aura surrounding him is dark and gloomy.

Not sure of what to make of it, Matt goes about his daily routine, his thoughts warring with themselves. A thick silence falls for a minute before he settles with, "So what's going on with you and Buckley?"

Kelly turns his head ever so slightly, the corner of his eyes in fine point. The abrupt change from smiley Kelly to sour Kelly is unnerving. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Matt doesn't bring up what Sylvie told him. "You visibly deflated when you noticed Ferraris."

"I did not. I am glad Ferraris is back." Kelly throws his bag into his locker and slams it shut.

"So, what is with the attitude?" Matt waves his hand air as he takes a seat next to Kelly, who's heated stare returns to the metal locker door. "I've known you for—How long has it been? 15? 16 years…" With a light shake of his head, he pauses and smile. "We've been friends for a while, so I know when something is bugging you. What's up?"

At first, it looks like Kelly is going to ignore him, but random words fall out of his mouth. "I… Just…I…" He shakes his head before letting out a harsh huff, which sounds like a groaning growl. "Buck." He spits out. Matt doesn't say anything and waits for Kelly to finish. "Other houses will used him. They won't stop him from cleaning the entire station by himself. He's going fold back into himself. I know you see it, especially with all of your..." He waves at Matt.

"All of my what?" Matt gives a look, one eyebrow raised. Kelly gives Matt a 'I'm not stupid' look that telegraphs exactly what he means. A look that Matt can only laugh at because it isn't his fault that Kelly goes to a level 10 when he has his mind set on something. "Listen, I just wanted to make sure Buckley isn't uncomfortable. I didn't want him to feel like he can't tell you no, being a Lieutenant and all."

Kelly's entire right twitches, his stare cold. "I don't even know how to respond to that. I would never-"

Matt puts his hand up in a 'I come in peace' motion. "Listen," he interrupts. "You know I love you. You're like a brother to me. No, you are my brother, blood be damn. But you got to admit that you're intense at times, and I've seen Buckley flee from the room on more than once. I just want to give him space if needed."

Kelly's heated stare dies away, his eyes dropping to his hand. "Before, you said it isn't our business, but you got to admit that something is up."

"Yes, I can admit that." Matt is still firm on the fact that he will not force anything out of Buckley, but Buckley's story does matter. Damn good floater or not, it does matter.

"Are you curious now?"

The tone in Kelly's voice feels like a slap, and while he hates to admit it, he knows Kelly was right. "Yes."

Kelly nods, accepting that. "So, do you think any other house will care? Probably be-"

"Listen, Grainger is a great lieutenant. He won't stand by and allow that." Matt interjects. Kelly snorts. Again, he wonders what's going on in Kelly's head. "Buckley will do well in at-"

"Bullshit." Kelly interrupts as he abruptly stands. "Buckley did the exact same thing: cleaned the entire fucken station. Well intention or not, this is over Grainger's head." He doesn't wait for a response and walks right pass Matt and out of the locker room.

Matt just stares for a moment, his mind going to Buckley. He replays every memory, every conversion, of the floater in his head. Needing to figure what's going on with Evan Buckley, he takes out his phone, scrolls until he sees Grainger's name, and presses dial. First thing first, he needs to see if Kelly is right and then speak to Chief Boden.


Author note:

Let me know what you think. I love reviews.

Also, I have seen latest episode. And before anyone asks, I still love Chimney, and while I do not support violence, I can understand why he snaps. The love of his life disappeared and he has been going nuts for 8 days. He was not in his right mind when he punched Buck, so i won't hold it against it. I also understand why Buck kept it a secret. I just hope the writers give us a scene where Buck and Chimney hug it out. Honestly, it just makes me want to get Chimney and Maddie back together in my story. So only love for those two.

With Athena and Bobby conversion, I wanted to be fair to Bobby, while making it clear that he went over the line. Let me know what you think.

Also, I technically have a Tumblr account. If you want to find me on there, the user name is the same: Kirgirl17