Hello!
Here is the next chapter! All mistakes are mine, no beta.
Let me know what you think! I would have gotten this out sooner, but I got distracted by Hawaii 5-0, so you can fault Steve and Danny.
Chapter 10:
Huffing and Puffing
Chief Wallace Boden doesn't need anyone to tell him that the floater Evan Buckley, his sheer awkwardness physically painful, is an oddball; however, he doesn't intervene until Casey comes to his office with a serious concern after speaking with Lieutenant Grainger. At first, he just listens, not sure if his Captain is off base. Just because someone is awkward doesn't mean they have a tragic life story, and he hasn't spent much time with the floater to get a good read. Nevertheless, seeing the concern in Casey's eyes, he agrees to make some calls to the LAFD.
By some calls, he means a lot. It takes quite a few, everyone going silent when Buckley's name is mentioned. Boden's not a paranoid man, but a switch is hit inside of him after the fourth time he's rushed off the phone with a nonsense line. Most would've gotten the message and gave up but being passed around like a hot potato confirms Casey's suspicions: there's more to the story, and Boden pushes on. He stresses his title and rank each time, and though he doesn't like losing his temper, he isn't particularly nice to the lady on the sixth call.
In an angry, exhausted huff, she, after muttering under her breath 'she doesn't get paid enough for this', directs him to Chief David Hernández, the district chief that Buckley's old station fell under. He expects the same bullshit he has been getting all day, but Hernández surprises him with, "I know Evan Buckley well."
Yet, Boden doesn't know how to take that, tone included. Depending on how large your district is, it may be impossible to know every firefighter under your command, and while Boden prides himself in knowing his firefighters, there're a few he doesn't. Besides for his officers and his Firehouse 51 regulars, the only ones he can recall are the all-stars or trouble makers. For Hernández to know Buckley so well, which one is Buckley? "How so?" he bristles.
Silence fells, the sounds of LA rumbling in the background. "What exactly are you looking for?" Hernández finally asks, his tone not as friendly as it was before.
Boden takes a deep breath, recognizing his misstep. "Sorry for the tone, but I've been getting the run around all day." That isn't an exaggeration. "Usually that doesn't happen unless there's something to hide." He huffs. "So, is there something to hide, Chief Hernández?" He stresses the Chief's name.
The familiar sound of an old car door opening squeals on the other end of the phone. "Is that the reason why you called? Having issue with Buckley? Trying to find a reason to transfer him?" Hernández's hesitation is audible.
Boden cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrow. "No, Buckley is one of the best young firefighters I've ever seen. Good potential there." He isn't lying. Buckley does have potential… Only if he allows himself to thrive. He will go nowhere if he remains a floater. "However, one of my Captains has brought some concerns to my attention. I'm…" He grunts. "I'm hesitant to say behavioral as he hasn't disobeyed a single order or raised his voice in anger. He has been-"
"Been distant and anti-Social?" Hernández finishes as a car door slams in the background.
While he knows better—stereotyping does more harm than good-, Boden can't envision a six-foot man with blue eyes being so shy and awkward. Sure, your personality is not only based on appearances, but Buckley reads as a bubbly goofball with a rebellious spirit. "Yes, and he doesn't-"
"Seem like the type?" Hernández finishes again.
Boden's eyes drift toward his office door. Though the door is closed and the blinds are down, he eyes the office staff moving around the bullpen through the spaces between the slats. Connie is laughing at a joke, the atmosphere totally opposite to how he feels. "No."
"The currently Buckley is a shell of his former self." Hernández laments. "I'm kicking myself for not checking in." He spouts something in Spanish. While Boden is picking up Spanish more and more due to Donna, he doesn't have a clue to what Hernández is saying, though his anger comes over clear. "I failed him." he grumbles, switching back to English.
"What happened?"
A second goes by as Hernández chews on his next words. "About six months ago, Buckley sued the department for wrongful termination-"
The word, termination, rings I Boden's head, hitting all the wrong cords. "He what?!" he blinks, his mind spinning. Did Buckley get fired from the LAFD only to come CFD? Do they have a troubled firefighter on their hands? While the floater hasn't done anything yet, he might not be worth all of the trouble
Hernández huffs angrily. "Don't let it color your opinion. It isn't as simple."
Lawsuits are common in this line of business with people grieving the loss of their loved ones or former firefighter/EMT wanting a payout. Boden personally has dealt with quite a few, been tasked with putting out these metaphoric fires, and the very thought of a lawsuit sours the taste in his mouth. "It isn't?" he asks. He knows not all lawsuits are fruitless, but those are few and far between.
"First, you have to know is that Buckley won his lawsuit." A pause. "Or rather the city agreed to a settlement. Second, Buckley turned down the money. All he wanted was his job back."
That doesn't mean much to Boden as a settlement doesn't mean you won. A lot of departments and companies will settle to avoid the bad press, which can hurt worse than the monetary value. Without knowing Buckley's story, he can't say this isn't the case. "Why was he terminated?" Boden harshly breathes through his nose, shifting uncomfortable in his chair. He can already envision the awkward conversation he will have to have with Buckley.
"Calling it a termination isn't accurate." Hernández counters, defensively. "It was an on-duty injury."
That definitely changes things, though it creates more question. "What happened?" Boden asks as Severide comes to mind. For many—if not all-, this job is a way of life, and to have it yanked away all of the sudden is a nightmare. He has seen many firefighters go down a dangerous path in a feeble attempt to save or get their job back. He remembers the time when Severide hid his injury and got hooked on pain killers, too scared of life after firefighting.
Hernández jiggles his keys. "I don't know if you remember this, but it was national news about a year ago. A son of a convicted arsonist wanted revenge on the LAFD Captain who put his father behind bars. Threats were made, which LAPD took seriously. Unfortunately, no one thought about the fire station, and we didn't realize it until it was too late. A bomb was placed beneath the truck and exploded on a way to call, injuring all the on board. Buckley received the worse of it, his leg getting pinned beneath it."
It takes a second, but the horrific event slowly comes back to Boden, as the forgotten anger, from when he first watched the scene unfolded, flares back up. If it had been one of his guys, he isn't sure anything would've held him back from beating the shit out of the son. "I remember…" He says though his teeth. Though it had been a year, he replays the scene in his head, which takes on a different meaning now that he personally knows the firefighter trapped under the truck. "That kid held those firefighters as hostages for an hour." Boden can't even comprehend how traumatizing that would be, especially for Buckley.
"He was eventually talked down, and the injured firefighters received the medical attention they required. All were back on the job in a few weeks, besides Buckley. He was out for about six months." Hernández adds, sighing. While he hasn't been skipping on the details, it's this distressed groan that tells Boden everything he needs to know. "This is where the detail gets a little shaky. I can't help but think Captain Nash dropped the ball as Buckley kept coming to my office to plead his case, which was weird as it was Nash who kept him back. Not sure what happened there. Did Nash not explain this? However, Buckley passed all of his recertification with flying colors, breaking some records along the way."
Without knowing how badly Buckley was injured, Boden doesn't want to play backseat fire Chief. However, looking at him now, he would've ever known there was a whole fire truck on Buckley's leg. "It is the captain's prerogative."
"I would agree, especially considering Buckley was on blood thinners for a pulmonary embolism."
Boden narrows his eyes. "He is still on them?" He doesn't know this Captain Nash, but he has to admit that he would agree with him. Firefighter get cut all the time, and being on blood thinners, any abrasion could be deadly.
"From my records, he has been off them for months, and normally, I would back my captain, but…" Drifting off, Hernández exhaled harshly. "He let other firefighters return to duty without having them jump through the same hoops. For example, one of his firefighters got into a car accident where a piece of rebar went through his skull and was back on the job in two months. I don't know why there was such a disconnect."
"What?!" Two months? Again, Boden doesn't want to play backseat Chief; yet-that is a big yet-, two months seem too quick to return to the job after a brain injury.
Hernández responds. "Buckley brought that up in the lawsuit as well as a few other times, aka a firefighter returning to duty shortly after his wife died in his arms. This showed a pattern with Captain Nash, which the lawyer used to argue his point that Buckley was unfairly dismissed from active duty. The city couldn't dispute these claims and agreed to settle despite the blood thinners, which is why Buckley was offered a settlement."
"Which isn't what he wanted." Boden replies slowly.
"No, it wasn't. However, to save face—after everything Buckley went through: the firetruck explosion, the tsunami—and money, the city agreed to allow Buckley to come back to active duty. Unfortunately, Buckley wasn't transferred, kept in the same house by Captain Nash's request." Hernández snorts ferociously. "I, as long as a few Chiefs, agreed to it, as we thought Nash could keep his house professional. Nash was always a fair captain."
Tsunami? Boden's eyes are once again aimed at his admin staff in the bullpen, but his thoughts are elsewhere. "Are you saying he wasn't?" He puffs out his chest.
"I don't have proof, but…." Hernández exhales slowly and deeply. "Buckley turned down a cash settlement for this job, and barely four months later, he hands in his resignation. Why would he fight so hard only to quit months?"
"Maybe, Buckley just needed a change of scenery."
"I would've believed that if the settlement wasn't seven figures. You don't turn down seven figures for a job only to quit months later."
Boden's brain freeze, his mind blanking on Seven figures. How the hell does that happen? Seven figures? While he's not a lawyer—thank God-, he can't wrap his mind around that. Seven figures?! That's unheard of. With most wrongful termination, the most you're rewarded is missed wages. Some case depending on the situation, you may get more, but shit, not seven figures worth. "Seven figures? He was awarded millions..."
"Yes, which is why I doubt Buckley would just leave. It takes a special kind of person to turn down millions for a job. That kind of money can change anyone, and yet, Buckley turned it down."
That's another layer. There's only a handful of people who Boden can think of that would turn down millions for a job, which tells Boden more about Buckley than anything else. The Floater values the job. So, what could make Buckley walk away? For his own men, this job is more than a job. It's a family. There's only one reason Boden can think of: if your family turns on you. "You think he was run out." Seeing how skittish Buckley is, Boden can follow Hernández's train of thought, but yet, his brain stalls. Sure, a lawsuit can sour relationship, but could an entire house shun a man? He knows there're bad applies out there, officers who should never be officers, but the idea that an entire house could be that cruel turns his stomach.
"I have no proof, so I cannot be certain. I, however, do know his Captain kept him on light duty and didn't let him on calls for months. He was a man defeated when he handed in his resignation." He huffs. "I can only imagine though as Buckley did not log a single complaint."
Boden grumbles under his breath, as he pictures a nervous Buckley folding into himself in a crowd of firefighters. The idea that burns him. How much abuse do you have to take before you lost the will to fight and accept it from everyone? "Not to minimize what Buckley went through, but has this been blown out of portion? It would be foolish to think a house would welcome him back with open arms." Even though the house would be valid in their feelings, they still had to be professional.
Hernández throws his head back. "I'm sitting in my Battalion vehicle outside Buckley's former house. This house used to be known as a family house, the stories I had heard." He lets out a playful yet pained sigh. "But now, this house is at each other's throat. I just broke up a fight between two men." He huffs. "So, I doubt it was sunshine and flowers."
Right now, they're only guessing. "It tracks." While Buckley attempts to hide it, Boden has spotted the uneasy anticipation on his face as if he expects a tongue lashing. Boden only had two conversations with the man, but both times, he clocked the stiffness in his shoulders, his heart constricting. Boden and Hernández chat for a few more minutes, agreeing to keep in contact. Hernández requests that if Buckley ever wants to go on record to let him know.
Still processing everything, Boden got to admit that he's shocked by everything Hernández told him and he sits in his office stunned for a while before he gets to his feet to find Casey, who he finds quickly. The Good Captain is joking with the rest of the gang in the common/kitchen, everyone having a good time. Well, besides Severide. The Lieutenant, though he denies it—forcing a painful smile to his face if he catches someone looking at him-, has been in a mood for the last two shifts. "Casey," Boden calls, his hands on his hip. "My office now."
The smile drops from Casey's face, surprised by the Chief's ruff voice. He stares at him for a moment before he gets to his feet. "Coming."
*O*O*
The first hour with Ruzek is truly uncomfortable, and Buck feels like a stranger in his own house as he stares at the officer. It feels like he's ripping off his own skin off with a dull, jagged knife, as they bounce cover story ideas off each other. Buck firmly wants his past to remain in the past, especially any knowledge of the lawsuit. No matter the distance, Mackey's words echo in his ear, 'It's possible that you'll never work as a firefighter again, let alone be hired by any other department in the country.' While he didn't lose, Buck wouldn't call it a win either, not when he was iced out of the 118. That is a lost.
However, Ruzek breezes pass Buck's LA Days—much to Buck's relief—and zeros in on Buck's Navy Seal days, not that Buck would call them his Navy Seal days as he dropped out after a few missions, unable to box up his emotions. While he tells everyone who asks that he dropped out prior to completing the training, he actually made it through and was placed on a team. He completed several missions before something cracked in him and he asked to be discharged. At first the Navy tried to enforce his contract, but his Commander was able to pull some strings and he was sent home. Though Buck felt like a failure, he did make some lasting friends—including that Commander- that he sends postcards from time to time. "I didn't get rejected," Bucks grumbles softly.
Waving him off, Ruzek looks utterly unimpressed at Buck's protest. "Listen, it works better this way. We got kicked together, both angry and bitter, which sent us down a 'dark path.'" He puts air quotes around it. "After a failed heist and almost getting arrested, you decided to call it quit and go straight, eventually becoming a firefighter. I went down a different path, which is why we lost touch. Easy peasy."
"Maybe, for you, but I don't have a cover to hide behind." This is his real name they're tainting… Isn't it already tainted?
"Don't worry. We'll loop the CFD in and clear up any misunderstanding."
While it's not too far from the truth, it still makes Buck uneasy. He has never done well with lies, the truth just bursting from him as he chokes on his tongue. "Fine."
"Now, that's out of the way. Let chatter about something funnier."
Buck rolls his eyes, not wanting to know what Ruzek considers 'fun', but their chat gets easier. Buck no longer feels like he's peeling off his own skin, even though they now are getting more personal, talking about their likes and dislikes. You would think It would be just as stressful, but it's oddly nice to talk about his interests and not his failures, especially since Ruzek brings up his own odd quirks and history. To break the ice, Ruzek mentions his failed three engagements.
"Sounds like you inspired some love songs." Buck teases, bringing his glass of water to his lips. "Call you Taylor Swift 2.0?" Buck bobs back and forth, tossing a thought in his head. "Okay, that's not fair or accurate to Taylor to call you Taylor Swift 2.0. You be more like John Mayer."
"Ha Ha. Very funny." He narrows his eyes and pauses. "I like how you know that."
Buck doesn't admit to it often, but he can't hate on Taylor Swift. "She got some good songs." He shrugs.
"Also, you speak as if you haven't broken any hearts?" Ruzek shots back, rolling his eyes.
Buck could not stuff down the guilty that graced his face. "Yea, but no engagements."
Ruzek- who Buck is beginning to see as Adam—snorts loudly. "Okay, but what's your body count? By looking at those pretty blue eyes, it has to be high. So, don't come high and mighty at me."
That's stings, but Buck tells himself that he isn't that man anymore. And yet, there's that urge, begging for that physical contact. "Point taken, but I'm a changed man. No longer a heart breaker."
As if Adam could see Buck's discomfort, he goes, "We need to be drunk for this dick measuring contest, and you have no beer. So…"
Seeing the out Adam is giving, Buck takes it and replies, "Yup, no beer. Sorry for your luck, John."
Adam glares at him with draggers, his eye twitching. A sharp finger pointing at Buck, he playfully threatens, "Watch it. Those're fighting words." Pretending to remove his make-believe gloves, he playfully 'tosses' them to the ground in a fit of 'rage'. "The gloves are off."
Buck stares blankly at the Officer for a moment, unsure how their tense conversion has morphed into this. He tries-he really does—to keep his walls up, no one can hurt you then, but everything in him longs for human interaction. He can't help but smile at Adam's over the top gesture. No, he has no sexual interest in Adam, simply enjoying his presence after days of isolation. Pathetic! It just takes a smile, and you drop. No wonder you break so easily. Buck fiercely shakes those chilling words from his head and replies, "I left my dueling pistols in my other pants, which are at the cleaners."
"That's what they all say!" Adam, pretending to be offended, tsks as he waves his finger at Buck. "All I hear is excuses."
Refusing to let his thoughts stray, Buck redirects his focus and gets to his feet. He feels Adam's calculating stare on him as he crosses to the television. "I don't have pistols…" He peeps over his shoulder and shoots Adam a cheeky smile. "Though, I wouldn't admit it to a cop even if I did. Are you trying to get me for entrapment?"
Adam snorts. "But I'm not a cop. I'm Adrian Davis, seals reject. I don't care if you have guns. I like guns."
Buck chuckles, smothering the urge to gag on the name. "True. True." He, partly kneeling down, opens one doors of his entertainment unit and reaches in for two controllers. "Did you know that the last duels took place in France in the 1967, though often only for form's sake, with precautions so no sword or pistol can be fatal? Fascinating stuff."
"No, I did not."
"Apparently in the last duel, one of the duelers vowed to wound his opponent in such a way as to spoil his wedding night 'very considerably.'" Buck has no idea why he feels so light, nor does he understand why he's telling Adam this, but shit, it feels amazing to be having a conversation with someone.
"Geez, poor wife. She probably didn't even get boned on her wedding night."
With the controllers in hand, Buck turns around, the horror dawning on him. "I didn't even think about that!"
Adam laughs. "I wouldn't be surprised if the bride killed the groom herself. Imagine if he bled on her dress."
"Shit. Be World War 3." Buck has been to a few weddings, though mostly as a plus one, so he doesn't have firsthand experience with brides, but he can picture an angry bride tossing tables over blood on her dress. When he thinks about his sister and Chimney's future wedding, he could see Chimney—yes, Chimney- throwing a fit if his suit got blood on it while Maddie saving the day. "Catch," Buck randomly announces as he tosses one of the controllers to Adam.
Adam almost chokes on his last laugh, while his expression turns to shock as he eyes the controller sail through the air. "What the…" he utters as the controller bounces off his hands and tumbles into his lap.
"You stated you wanted to duel. This is what I have."
"Oh, really?" Adam's eyes dart back and forward from the controller to the cheery grin on Buck's face.
"Yes, really." Buck can't explain why it's easy to be open—well, semi open—with Adam, even after being manhandled by him. Okay, if he's honest, he can come up with an idea. He's fucken lonely, lonelier than he has ever been, and Buck 1.0 is whispering in his ear, trying to seduce him. With time, it gets harder to fight, especially when he wants-needs to open up to someone, to talk to someone, even if it's an uncovered cop who doesn't give a damn. In fact, it's easier that it's Adam, a man whose main goal is catching bad guys. A man who won't rebuffed him. The officer needs him, and while that cheapens any friendship, it's refreshing here. Buck knows where Adam stands.
Adam, with a devilish good smile, straightens up while puffing out his chest. "You're on! I have mad skills."
After randomly picking a game, Buck takes a seat back on the sofa. "You won't be saying that in a few minutes!"
"We'll see." Adam shots him a playful, yet diabolical grin and points a sharp finger at Buck's chest. "You'll be shaking in your boots. Just you wait." There's nothing in Adam's pose that screamed worried.
On the other hand, opening himself up, even a little bit, to a fellow firefighter scares the living crap out of him, especially if it is Kelly Severide. It doesn't scare him for the obvious reasons; rather, it scares because he wants to open up to him. He wants to lose himself in Severide's smile and allow the bonds- the ones destroyed by the 118—to reform. He can see a family in 51, and that shakes him to his core. Their rejection would hurt more than anything.
For not having any beer and being completely sober, Buck and Adam have no explanation as to why they got lost in the video games, killing each other over and over again until the early morning hours. They point to their competitive streaks that refuse to stand down. "Shit, look at the time." Adam says, looking at his phone. "I better get going."
As if he doesn't believe Adam, Buck reaches for him own phone to check the time, but he only feels the wooden table. Eyes large, he frantically scans the table, which he repeats not believing his own eyes, and curses, "Shit." The controller slips from his hands as his hands fly to his side, and in an unsteady and awkwardly motion, he pats himself down, starting at his hips. "Have you seen my phone?"
Adam gives Buck a once over before he quickly sweeps the room. "Is that it?" He asks, spotting a phone's round edge poking out from beneath the coffee table.
"Yes, thanks!" Relief floods him, but that relief is short lived when he notices multiple missed calls, 7 that spanned over 12 hours. His thumping heart is in his throat when he scrolls through the missed calls. "Shit."
"Is…um… everything okay?" Adam asks, as he stretches his arms high above his head.
He spots Grainger's name in the call log a few times. His calls were a few minutes apart as if he expected Buck to answer with multiple calls. Two were from his CFD Contact for floater assignments, most likely calling with a floater position. Those missed calls mean losing out on money. "Shit!" The next few are from unfamiliar, unknown numbers, but Buck is less worried about those calls.
"Evan?"
"I'm good." Buck affirms through his teeth. Maybe, they haven't filled the floater spot, and he can still accept the assignment. Perhaps, he's freaking out over nothing, but it's too late to call now. "Just missed a few calls."
Adam nods, though eyeballing him skeptically. "Okay, then." There's a question in his stare, but he doesn't ask. Instead, he sees himself out, the sky still dark. "Until next time, Buckley."
Buck denies the familiar loneliness that settles deep in his gut when Adam leaves, but he doesn't allow him to marinade in it. There's a blinking icon on his phone, catching his eyes and indicating a voicemail, and he, his tongue in his throat, needs to know how screwed he is. Stop being an infant. Puffing out his cheeks, he presses play and brings the phone to his ear.
"Buckley," the voice huffs, Buck recognizing Chief Boden's voice. "It's Chief Boden from 51. There's something I need to discuss with you. Please come down to the Firehouse as soon as you can."
Everything goes white for a moment, and it's a miracle that his phone doesn't slip from his sweaty and shaky hand as the other voicemails play, not that it matters. Buck can't tell you what those messages said, his brain still processing Boden's message. What does Boden want to talk about? What is there to talk about? One thing come to mind. Shit. Shit. Shit. Buck tries to cool the fire in his chest, but every breathing technique he tries just leaves him breathless and gasping. Nightmare scenarios haunt his thoughts like a dementor, destroying any hope he has of sleeping.
*O*O*
Buck only manages to get an hour of restless sleep before he's up and on his way to firehouse 51; and yet, sleep is not on his radar. Don't get him wrong. Buck is exhausted, a hungry, snarling zombie on his feet, but his nerves are on fire. Plus, he doubts he'll be able to sleep after his 'fun' chat with Boden. A part of him hopes that he misses the Chief—the man didn't give him a time-, though that will only delay the inevitable. If Boden desires to speak to him, Boden is going to speak to him. There's no getting out of it.
While Buck is a big man, he has been feeling half his size lately, his shoulder hunched forward as if in a permanent fashion. He tries to straighten up and hold his head high, but his doubts eat at his every thought while Mackey's greedy grin plagues him. You got this. Buck tells himself. Boden isn't going to eat you… Well, I hope not. Buckley breathes in deeply and calls forth happy memories. He thinks of Maddie, about the many game nights with her, Chimney and Josh. He thinks about the Zoo with Christopher and about how large his smiles gets when Buck lifts him unto his shoulders. With a deep breath, he picks up his head and—
"Buckley, Hey!"
Buck freezes. Breathe. One. Two. Three. His mind whispers as he awkwardly clears his throat and follows the voice. Just stepping out of the firehouse with a bag over his shoulder is Captain Matt Casey, dressed in his civilian clothes. "Leaving? Sorry. Just got Chief Boden's message. I…um… was busy yesterday." Busy playing video games with an uncovered cop, but Casey doesn't need to know that.
Though Casey is smiling at him, there's sharpness in his eyes. "It's understandable. It was a late notice." He glances back into the firehouse. "But Boden is still in his office. Follow me."
An intense dread fills Buck, his heart tight, as an image of a pig being led to the slaughter flashes before his eyes. Stop it. He yells at himself. "Okay." Casey, with a friendly grin, waves him forward, and while he can't rid himself of that image, he follows. The walk to Boden's office feels longer and bleaker than normal, his eyes drift in any direction besides ahead. His eyes shift side to side, refusing to look at the firefighters that walk pass them. He has his eyes aimed down, until he notices a pair of dark jeans.
That is Buck's first—besides coming to 51 after getting Boden's voicemail- mistake, as his eyes trail up the legs. Still walking, his blue eyes meet a certain green eye firefighter, and his entire world freezes for the second time. Buck is a firm believer that everyone, regardless of gender or size, looks good in a uniform, and that's definitely true with Kelly Severide, Buck drooling over him far too often; however, the way those dark jeans hug Severide's hips makes Buck's mouth go dry, especially when a sliver of skin peeps out, and it's a battle not to drop to—
Whack!
Buck just blinks as pain flashes through the entire left side of his body. In his horny haze, he made the turn too short and smacks into the corner of the wall. "Shit." He curses, his eye twitching from the stinging. He rubs at his face.
Casey, with a half concern, half amused grin, glances over his shoulder. "You okay?"
"Yup," Buck squeals, cheeks pink, as his eyes dart forward. "I'm Fine." His voice reaches levels Buck didn't think possible. He spots a few pair of eyes on him, his voice painfully high pitched, but there's only one that he's avoiding. He has no faith in himself that he won't walk into another wall if he stares into those beautiful eyes once more. "I'm good." He is not good, but that's Buck's problem, not Captain Casey's. The Good Captain does not need to know about Buck's horny thoughts toward his best friend. No one need to know. Besides, that is all it is. Buck, being touched starve, is ready to jump anyone he finds attractive. Severide is just unluck.
*O*O*
Casey knocks on the glass of Boden's opened door. "Look who I found," he smiles as he pokes his head in.
Buck, his heartbeat racing, steps past Casey into Boden's office. "Hey, Chief." He only allows his eyes to hover over Boden for a moment before picking a spot over his right shoulder to focus on. "Sorry… it took so long. I…um… was busy."
"It's not problem." Boden grins as he removes his reading glasses. "Come in and take a seat." He motives to the seat across from him.
Buck's eyes dart to Casey for a moment before returning to Boden, still avoiding eye contact. "Is there an…ah…issue?" he asks, clearing this throat, as he lowers himself into the chair.
"No issue, Buckley. Just wanted to have a little chat." Boden's tone changes a tad on the word 'little.' His glance pops to Casey. "Close the door, Casey."
"Got it, chief." Casey steps into the room, setting his bags down, and closes the door behind him.
After months of being shunned, every conversation with a superior officer makes Buck's skin scrawl, waiting to be torn to pieces. No matter how many times he hasn't been yelled at in CFD, it doesn't change the engrained response in him. Now with both Captain Casey and Chief Bode staring at him, he's going to explode as the ravens wait to feed off his skin.
Boden leans forward and rests his elbows on his desk, his eyes recognizing the well-hidden panic beneath Buck's neutral expression. "I'm not going to beat around the bush. I know about the lawsuit." He pauses, allowing Buck to process.
Everything goes white, the air in Buck's lungs suddenly gone. "Y-you know a-about the l-lawsuit… You…" Buck's right-hand flies to his chest, gripping at the fabric of his shirt, as he gasps for air. "I… Um… Sir… I…" Everything inside of Buck is screaming, his recent nightmares replaying in his head on max, the blood in his veins going ice cold. The hair standing up on his arms, pure panic replaces the blood in his veins. He can't go through this again. He can't be hated for existing again. "O-of course, you know about the l-lawsuit." He tries to clear his throat but chokes on his words. "N-no doubt, you don't want me here. I-I'll go. I'll leave right now. Sorry for-"
Boden raises his right hand, Buck's panic surprising both Casey and him. "Whoa, Whoa. Slow down. Breathe, Buckley. No one has said any such thing." He protests strongly, watching Buck's chest thump like a herd of wild horses. "No one is judging you here. We just need you to breathe."
"Sir… C-Chief." Buck croaks, his throat parched and itchy. "I-I'm s-sorry." His hand travels up his chest to his neck, his finger digging into the skin.
"Let me get you some water." Casey leaps forward to his feet and hurries out the office to the kitchen.
Buck can distantly hear the click of Casey's shoes as he disappears down the hallway, the Captain's words barely registering. Disturbing memories work their way forward, angry, cruel words echoing in his head. Familiar insults and slurs eat at him. Everything that has ever happened to him at the 118 rushes back, and the fear and panic of that happening again paralyzes him to his core. He can't go through that again. He can't have friendly eyes turn on him in hate. Not-
"Buckley! Breathe." Boden's voice is cut through the air, snapping Buck from his panic. "Breathe."
Blinking, Boden's office slowly reappears around Buck, though Buck is focused on the Chief who has rounded his desk in Buck's panic and stands in front of him. Buck's heart is in his throat as he meets Boden's eyes, expecting the anger he has seen in Eddie's eyes and the disappointment he has seen in Bobby, but he sees neither. Instead, there's nothing but concern and compassion, which Buck doesn't know how to handle. "I-" A hand suddenly appears on his shoulder, sending several feet into the air, and he has to bit down on his tongue to stop the sting of curses words from rolling out.
"Sorry," comes Casey's remorseful voice as a water bottle drops into Buck's line of version. "Here."
"T-Thanks." Buck utters as he takes the bottle. He hesitates for a second before he twists off the top and takes a few big slips. "Thanks," he repeats, twisting the cap back on. He glances over his shoulder, looking for a quick escape, another reflex engrained into him. He straightens back into the chair, which has gotten a whole lot uncomfortable.
"Feel better?" Casey asks, returning to his spot by the window.
Buck does not feel better; he will never feel better. Gripping the water bottle tight, he ignores the question and asks, "H-how did y-you find out?" The word 'you' sounds mangled.
Boden straightens up and leans back against his desk. Folding his arm against his chest, he answers slowly and cautiously, "I spoke to Chief Hernández." He exchanges glances with his Captain. "After Casey bought some concerns to my attention, and when my captain brings concerns to my attention, I take them serious."
That panic from before is back—not that it ever left—, and it feels like someone is sitting on Buck's chest. "Did I make a mistake?" Squeezing the water bottle even tighter, he replays his last shift at 51 in his head. Did he mess something up? Was Bobby right the entire time? Is he unworthy of the uniform?
"You didn't do anything wrong, Buckley." Casey shots out, clocking the panic boiling just beneath the skin. "Just noticed some… odd behavior and are worried."
Odd behavior? The words echo in Buck's head. What does that mean? Boden and Casey may say he didn't do anything wrong, but it doesn't feel like it. You don't get called by to the principal office by the Principal and the Vice Principal for nothing. Calm down, Buckley. He knows he's overacting, as Boden and Casey have not given him any implication that he should be worried. Yet…
Breathing through his nose, Boden explains, "After speaking with Hernández, I have a few questions that I hope you can answer."
Yep, this is the conversation that Buck has been fearing, the whole we don't want you here. He heard it every day for months. "I'm sorry. I truly am." His voice peeks, hitting pre puberty levels. "I get it you don't want me here." Is he wanted anywhere? No, Mackey is right. They are right. "I get it. I wouldn't want to work with someone like…me. I betrayed..." He drifts off, unable to list everyone that he hurt. He hurt so many people. "Please know it was never about the money. I just wanted to do the job… That's all I ever wanted. It's still the only thing I ever. I-"
"Buckley," Boden calls forcefully but gently. "Look at me."
Casey shoots Boden a look and pushes off the wall. "You got to breathe, Buckley." As if to show Buck how it's done, he slows his breathing, and with every breath he takes, he makes a hand motion, following the intake of air.
Peeping over his shoulder at Casey, Buck bits down on his lip and copies the slow breathing. This isn't new, but it helps to focus on someone else. Silence falls, no one speaking until Buck's breathing matches Casey's. "I'm good." He says softly after a few awkward minutes. He settles back into his seat, yet again, his eyes trained down to his lap. "I'm good."
For a few seconds, Boden eyes Buck with a calculating stare, and when he's comfortable with Buck's breathing, he starts, "I won't say I agree with the lawsuit." Buck's right eye twitches. "Being a firefighter is already a dangerous job and being on blood thinners creates risks and obstacles that don't need to exist." He pauses, once more exchanging looks with Casey. "However, I understand how extremely frustrating it must've felt like to be in your position."
Buck, his eyes wet and gleaming, peeps up at Boden's expression for a second before his stares drop again. While he's no longer on blood thinners, the very thought of them makes his skin itch. The lawsuit was a mistake, Buck knows this now: blood thinners and firefighting doesn't mix. Yet, it doesn't nix the betrayal he felt when Bobby lied to him. It wasn't the city keeping him back, it was his Captain. "What do you know?"
"We don't know everything, pieces to this puzzle missing, but what I do know, angers me off." Boden answers, breathing through his nose.
Casey steps forward until he is parallel with Boden's desk. "I can second that." He blusters, his expression heavy. "Yes, it's easy to judge someone after the fact, which is why I tend to shy away from that, but…" He, the gears in his head turning, eyes Buck's profile. "From what it sounds like, your captain failed you on several accounts. There needs to be a standard that everyone must adhere to, and without this, all you have is resentment. Captains have to make sure there's transparence. That's a must."
The reality of the situation is slowly dawning on Buck. "Transparency…"
"Yes. It doesn't sound like your Captain was." Casey takes deep breath, his nose flaring. "Also, doesn't sound like you had a safe working environment, and honestly, Buckley? That pisses me off."
"So… you aren't mad about me suing the LAFD." Buck's head pops up, his eyes drilling into Casey's. How? The entire 118 made him feel like an unwelcomed house guest. The lawsuit made him public enemy number one to them.
Boden clears his throat, his voice rough. "I can't lie and say I wouldn't feel slighted if someone in this house brought a lawsuit against me as we're a family. It'll always feel personal; however, as your superior officer, it's my duty to be professional. Your Captain wasn't. He failed you."
Buck swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry again. "Who said he f-failed me?"
"The city did as well by putting you back into that house."
Before leaving the 118, the thought of working at another house would've destroyed him. The 118 is—was, his brain corrects. The 118 was his family. Even now, his heart skips when he thinks about them. They already left you. "But I wanted to be…"
"And yet, you're here." Boden tilts his head to the side, meeting Buck's wet blue eyes.
"Yup." He replies forcefully, popping out the 'p.' With a deep breath, he asks, "now what?"
"I can only imagine how tense that house was, so I need to know." Boden states, calmly.
"Why does it matter?" Buck asks, his voice breaks. The water bottle crackles under his tight grip. "Not much to say." Saying anything just hurts. Though, it's not what is said, but how it is said, and Buck is telegraphing everything.
"Because it matters," Casey interjects, a frown forming on his face. "From your behavior, I can picture it, but we need from you. Did your former house create a hostile work environment for you?"
While it tore at Buck every time he stepped into the firehouse, he understands their anger. He hurt them. He just couldn't be their punching bag anymore. "It's understandable. If…if I was them, I wouldn't trust me either. I used…" He shakes his head. "I get them not wanting to work with me."
"No, it's not."
"I betrayed them."
"You were hurting. We know what happened with the fire truck, pinned until they contained the suspect." Casey counters, firmly. "I can't imagine what went through your head."
Buck doesn't like to recall that day. Granted, he vaguely remembers it, everything lost in that hazy that was his pain and fear. Heck, he can't even tell you what the man—or was it a boy?—looked like. He only has his nightmares to go off of, which doesn't do him any favors. The only reason he knows how long he was under that truck is because of the police report, his pain melting everything together. "Doesn't excuse it."
"No, it doesn't, but if they couldn't handle it, they should've transferred you. Harassing a fellow firefighter day in and day out is never okay." Boden disputes, strongly. "Can you tell me what they did?"
Buckley sinks into the chair, his shoulders hunched over. "Who said they did?" He protests, though he knows it is pointless.
Casey puffs out his cheeks before he replies, "No one did, Buckley. You didn't need to." There's a sadness in his eyes.
"That…um… doesn't mean anything." Buck tries to dispute.
"You had a panic attack at the mere mention of the lawsuit." Casey's eyes dart toward the office door, concentrating on something outside. "Not to add the distance you put between you and any house you float at, hiding behind a push broom."
Buck takes a large breath and exhales deeply. "Just don't want to be a burden." And yet, you had two panic attacks.
The muscle just beneath Boden's right eye twitches. "From what I've seen so far, I can't imagine you ever being a burden." Taking a deep breath, he pushes himself up to his feet and rounds his desk back to his chair. "I won't push anymore. I have everything I need to know but my door—our doors," He points to Casey and his chest. "Will always be open when you want to talk."
Buck doesn't know what that mean? How does Boden have everything that he needs? However, Buck has reached his limit of chatter for the week, feeling raw from all of the emotional skin pulling. "Thanks. Is that all you wanted to talk about?" he asks, passing the water bottle to his left and pushing down on the arm rest with his right hand.
"No." Pushing his chair out of the way, Boden reaches into his drawer for a piece of paper. "I now understand why you rejected all the offers to turn fire house. However, I won't accept that."
"What?" Buck voices, bolting upright in his chair. The metal legs of the chair squeals, as it scrapes the floor.
Casey shifts and steps forward, a soft smile on his face. "Chief Boden and I are in agreement. You're too good for a floating position, and it's time to correct that. Starting next shift, you'll be serving on Truck 81 under me. Won't be as fancy as Squad three."
"Captain…" Buck's world is spinning. It was just yesterday that he dreamt of being a part of 51, but it's another thing to have the position dangled in front of him. "I literally just had a panic attack in front of you and you still want me? I'm…" Broken. Buck breathes through the shutter that rocks his body.
"Yes," Casey answers. "Sounds like something we will work through together."
Casey doesn't say the word, but Buck can hear the word 'therapist.' He has to dig his fingers into palms to stop him from flinching. "Are you sure?"
A large smile forms on Boden's face. "Oh, Buckley. You don't get a say in this. Firehouse 51 is a family house, and we aren't going to leave a man behind."
Buck is speechless, as he doesn't know what to make out of all this. He never thought a firehouse would want him after they learned about the lawsuit, which scares the crap out of him.
"And maybe in time, you will trust us enough to tell what happened."
*O*O*
When a gearless Buckley strolls firehouse, Kelly levels. He can't explain but the moodiness that filled him for the last two shift vanishes; however, he doesn't let himself strew on that. Instead, his mind starts throwing out questions. Why is Buck here? Why is Casey not surprised by his presence? Why are they heading toward Boden's office? Kelly is clearly missing some vital information here, especially if the weight in Buck's shoulder is any implication. Buck is a big man, standing over six feet, and yet, he never looks his full size.
Suddenly changing his course, Kelly ignores the looks pointed at him and follows after the two. He spots that familiar, uncomfortable tension in Buck's shoulder, and he's filled with the strong urge to grab him by the shoulders and massage the tension right out of him. A strong desire to hear the glorious-
The words die in his throat as Buck and Kelly's eyes lock. Kelly's mind goes blank, getting lost in the blue ocean of Buck's eyes. Kelly has ogled Buck's blues eyes on many occasions, counting the shades of blue he can see. At times, he doesn't realize he is doing it, until someone pokes him in the shoulder. Unfortunately, it is mostly Casey who breaks him out of fog, nailing him with a hypercritical stare. He has lost-
Whack!
Misjudging the turn, Buck smacks the face first into the wall. He just blinks for a few seconds, his brain in a heavy haze, before he swears. While Kelly can imagine how much that hurts, he chuckles at how comical and cute Bucks looks as he rubs at his face. Buck needs some kisses to make it feel better… Casey, with that knowing smile Kelly hates so much, grins at Buck, asking if he's okay. Buck waves Casey off before they two continue on their way to Boden's office.
Kelly knows it's none of his business, but he follows, keeping a good few feet back. Casey and he exchanges looks when the good Captain closes Boden's door. Kelly uncomfortably recognizes that heated look, had seen it many times on his best friend face, and if Casey hadn't smiled at Buck a few moments ago, Kelly would be worried, and he might've busted into Boden's office, invited or not, even if he has to wrestle Casey to the ground to do so. Wait? Where the fuck did that come from?
Kelly doesn't cross the printer and leans against the wall. Once more, he gets a few sideway stares, but he keeps his eyes on Buck, who is partly obstructed by the blinds. He can't hear anything over Connie's typing, but whatever is being said, it's a tense, Boden's expression jumping between anger and compassion. Even Casey, one of the most leveled headed person Kelly knows, looks upset. What the fuck is going in there? His hand twitches at his side, his heart telling him to move. The only thing stopping him from bursting in is Connie, who is nails him with one of her famous glares.
Suddenly, Casey spurts out of the room, the door left opened him, and hurries passes him and down the hall to the kitchen. Still aware of Connie's eyes on him, Kelly pushes off the wall and takes a step forward. While his view of Buck is still partly blocked, he sees enough to know that something is off. Kelly straightens his shoulders ready to charge, but Boden's voice cuts through the air, stopping Kelly. "Buckley! Breathe."
Kelly's eyes go large, hearing the concern in Boden's voice, and his heart tightens uncomfortable in his chest. Not even Connie's heated stare cold stop him, but Casey returns, a water bottle in his hand, before he makes it to the door. He shots a warning glance at Kelly and sternly says. "No." He doesn't elaborate further, as he steps back into Boden's office and closes the door behind him. Bucks jumps when Casey places a hand on his shoulder. Kelly's eye twitches, Buck's uneasiness making him physically uncomfortable. He breathes through his nose, the resentment building. What the hell is going on in there?
The clock ticking in the background, Kelly doesn't know how long he has been standing there, but it feels like an eternity, an eternity in hell with Connie's judging eye. To avoid that probing stare, he keeps his stare forward, his eyes drilling holes into the door. He's fully aware he's giving off creeper vibes with his intense scowl, but he doesn't care. While there's a wall between them, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife. He can't see Buck's face, but he isn't liking the ever-changing expression on Boden and Casey's face.
When Buck finally gets up, Casey offers a hand shake, which Buck hesitantly and skeptically takes. Boden offers him his hand as well, and Buck, who is just as cynical, takes it. Buck offers them a weak but true smile as Casey opens the door, his bag once again over his shoulder. The three of them exit in a row- Buck in the middle-, each giving Kelly a penetrating stare when they spot them.
"Severide, you're still here?" Boden asks, his eye brow raised.
Kelly gives him a cheeky smile, a bit embarrassed by the protective streak that pulse through him. "Yea, just wanted to make sure everything is okay."
"That's nothing to worry about." Casey smiles, clocking the embarrassed smile on Kelly's face.
Kelly's eye twitching, knowing Casey is going to corner him the second they get back to the apartment. Why does he live with Casey again? "Good, good." He nods as he turns his attention to Buck, who is quiet behind them, though the tension Kelly spotted earlier is gone. Kelly is happy to see that, but he still can't help but worry. Buck flinching under Casey's touch flashes before him.
"Buckley has agreed to join us permanently here at 51," Boden announces.
Casey glances at Buckley before saying, "Yes, he'll be serving under me on truck 81. No doubt he'll be a good fit on the team." His head bobs back and forth for a few times before he chuckles. "Although, Gallo and Buckley might be too much for me."
Boden glances over his shoulder at Casey. "Don't forget Ritter. A furious trio." His entire face lights up with a smile. "Young blood. Just what we want in our firehouse." Buck's cheeks go pink as his eyes bounce between Boden and Casey's grins.
Kelly stares speechless for a moment before a smile explodes on his face. He has questions because he recalls the two lieutenants' conversation at Molly's: Buck rejects numerous full times placement. Why would he accept one now? However, he isn't going to look gifted horse in a money. Yes, a gifted horse. "That's awesome." He grins. Truck 81 is no squad 3, but Buck is going to be at 51, which means Kelly will be able to keep an eye on him for the foreseeable future. The thought makes his light head.
And 'keeping an eye on him' has a few different means.
Author note:
1) I changed up Buck's navy seal days. Besides the fact I think writers forgot about it (randomly threw it because he thought it was cool), I was chewing on it and decided to change it up. In my canon, Buck completes his Navy seal training, and it isn't until he completes a several assignments that he wants out. He thought he could handle until he was in the field.
2) I was going back and forth with 'lawsuit conversion.' Initially, i wasn't going to give you Hernández and Boden's conversation, just skipping it by showing you Casey and Boden's. However after a few comments, I decided to switch it up.
3) And yes, Buck finally is "Home." Right where Kelly can keep an eye on him.
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. I love reviews.
