Title: Closure
Author: N'kala
Summary: It wasn't that the Chief's newest policy was a bad idea. It was the trauma counselor assigned to the 118 that Buck had a problem with.
Disclaimer: All familiar characters belong to Fox and Ryan Murphy.
Author's Note: The thing with Dr. Wells in season 1 never really sat right with me, and by season 3, Bobby just states that she no longer works for the department? What happened in between? And why does Bobby know about it and not Buck? This story is my answer to these questions. (Buck may appear OOC here; fair warning).
Timeline: Sometime during season 2.
Closure
By: N'kala
It was a bad call. The kind of call that tested every first responder's ability to set aside their shock and horror to get the job done. The kind of call that tended to end careers for those who hadn't realized what the job could entail.
It was also the kind of call that required Bobby to notify the department's trauma counselors to report to their station as they packed up their equipment.
Bobby's eyes swept over his team, seeing the strain on their faces and the tension in their shoulders. He still wasn't convinced that the department's new policy was the best way to handle this sort of situation, but if it shortened the amount of time his people had to carry the weight of the call, then so be it.
No one spoke during the ride back to the station. Even Buck, a guaranteed source of distraction, stared mutely down at his knees. That alone was enough for Bobby to place his faith in the plan.
The truck backed carefully into the station and rumbled into silence. Bobby caught sight of a familiar figure as he hopped out and nodded in her direction before turning to his team.
"Everyone, I know you want to go clean up, but I need you to give me a few minutes," he announced.
Slowly, as if moving through molasses, his crew shuffled over to him. From the side, Bobby saw as their visitor's eyes flitted from face to face, taking in what Bobby could only assume was their obvious grief.
"You all know that I believe you to be the best firefighters in the city," Bobby stated. "Unfortunately, even the best can't always save everyone."
Buck swiped at reddened eyes. Eddie's jaw was clenched tight, and Hen's hand reached out to squeeze Chimney's shoulder in comfort.
"You did everything right," Bobby told them firmly. "It doesn't feel like that right now, I know, but you did. The best thing for us right now is to work through it."
Bobby gestured to their visitor as she began to walk towards them. "Per the chief's new policy, we've been taken offline to allow all of us time to speak to a trauma counselor. If you haven't met her yet, allow me to introduce you to Dr. Wells."
Dr. Wells smiled kindly at the group clustered together. "I'm sorry to be meeting you at a time like this. Grief has a way of weighing us down, and I'd like to help you to work through some of it before it has a chance to sink in."
Seeing the reluctance on more than one face, Bobby added, "This is nonnegotiable. Everyone, including myself, will be speaking with Dr. Wells. Is there anyone who would like to go first?"
Heads started to swivel left and right, but Hen took a step forward.
"I'll go," she volunteered.
Bobby nodded and turned to the counselor. "Dr. Wells, you can use my office for your meetings."
Dr. Wells smiled and thanked him, then gestured for Hen to precede her. Bobby turned to the rest of his team.
"Go ahead and get cleaned up and restock the truck," he ordered gently. "I'll get an early dinner started for anyone who feels hungry. Don't forget to check in with Dr. Wells; no one goes off shift without speaking to her."
As everyone began to disperse, Bobby's eyes caught sight of Buck's shockingly pale face and sent up a silent prayer that Dr. Wells would be able to help the young man.
The afternoon crawled by. The usual hum of activity accompanied by teasing banter was conspicuous in its absence, but as firefighter after firefighter left their meeting with Dr. Wells, the silence didn't seem quite so oppressive.
Rather than a large meal, Bobby set about preparing several plates of foods that were favorites of each of his team. He took each small smile as a victory and a balm to his own soul and happily replenished what he could.
Bit by bit, his team was coming back to him. Hen and Chimney were huddled together, going over what they had done on the call and were reassuring themselves objectively that there really hadn't been anything else they could have done.
Jenkins, Pierce, and Marks were washing the truck sedately, but the occasional chuckle and flicks of soapy water at each other told Bobby that they, too, were beginning to feel better.
He didn't know where Buck and Eddie were, but Bobby had seen Eddie's head ducked low over his cell phone, presumably getting ready to call his son. The boy never failed to put a smile on his father's face, and if Eddie was feeling well enough to call him, Bobby knew he would be all right.
Maybe there was something to the chief's new policy after all.
Dr. Wells ascended the steps to the loft as Bobby set a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table. Bobby smiled at her.
"Thank you for your help today, Dr. Wells," he said. "Would you like something to eat before you wrap up with me?"
Dr. Wells returned the smile. "Thank you," she replied. "I'd like that, but I'm afraid I'm not quite done. I've only seen seven firefighters. Shouldn't there be one more before our meeting?"
"Seven?" Bobby frowned and stepped closer. "Who have you seen?"
Dr. Wells counted them off with her fingers. "Firefighter Wilson, then Marks, Pierce, Han, Alvarez, Jenkins, and Diaz just now."
Frustration rippled through Bobby and he glanced over at Hen and Chimney, who were listening in. "Can you two track Buck down and remind him that he's not getting out of this?"
The two medics nodded and stood. "You got it, Cap," Chimney replied.
Bobby nodded and turned back to Dr. Wells. "No sense wasting time; let's go ahead and do my meeting now."
Dr. Wells smiled and nodded. "Then after you, Captain," she said, gesturing to the stairs.
Buck watched as Dr. Wells led Bobby into his office, ducking back into the storage closet before he could be spotted. His heart was racing in his chest.
Of all of the counselors, why did it have to be her?
Buck ran a hand through his already wildly disheveled hair, his mind swinging between the memories of their previous meeting and half-formed plans to avoid being alone with her again.
He'd managed to convince himself that sleeping with Dr. Wells had just been a bad decision in a long line of poorly thought out actions, but seeing her now sent a wave of nausea and disgust rolling over him.
Minute tremors rippled over Buck's skin. He wrapped his arms around himself and started to pace the length of the closet.
He couldn't do this. There was no way he could be alone with her again.
Bile rose in the back of his throat. Buck swallowed it back, tightening his arms around his stomach.
Did she even remember him?
Memories of hot skin . . . frantic kisses . . . grasping fingers overtook him. Buck felt his eyes burn with unshed tears and he fought them back. It wasn't a big deal. It had been a stupid mistake. It wasn't like he'd said no, anyway; it didn't matter if he hadn't wanted to at first. It was nothing.
Why didn't it feel like nothing?
"Buck?"
The young man froze, wide blue eyes flying up to find Chimney standing in the doorway. The confusion on the medic's face was beginning to fade into concern as Buck continued to stare back at him, speechless.
"Hey." Chimney's voice was gentle as he slowly moved towards Buck. "You okay?"
Buck nodded jerkily. "Y-Yeah, of course," he stammered. "I-I was just . . . just checking the inventory."
Chimney took another step forward. "I know you don't want to talk about the call today, Buckaroo, but you need to. Dr. Wells-."
The nausea swelled once more, and Buck knew there was no stopping it. Shoving past a protesting Chimney, he raced blindly to the locker room, threw open the first stall door he reached, and was bringing up the remnants of his breakfast into the toilet just as his knees hit the floor.
Dimly, Buck was aware of some sort of commotion happening behind him, but he ignored it in favor of his rolling stomach. He heaved and heaved until he had nothing left, tears dripping from his eyes to join the mess below.
Someone behind him shifted and mercifully flushed his stomach's contents away. A hand soothingly rubbed his back, and Buck gingerly turned his head to see who was there.
"Easy, kid." Bobby's hand slid up to Buck's shoulder, the steady pressure helping to still the young man's rattled nerves. "Do you think you can move to the sink, or do you need a few more minutes?"
Buck felt his stomach flip, watery blue eyes flickering behind Bobby to where Chimney hovered.
"No one else is in here," Chimney answered the unasked question. "I cleared the room once Cap got here. It's just us."
Not that that would stop the rest of their team from finding out about Buck's little . . . episode, but for now it was enough. Buck turned back to Bobby.
"I-I can clean up," he stammered. "I'm okay."
"I'm sure you are, but I'd like to see for myself." Bobby stood, then wrapped his hands around Buck's elbows to help Buck to his feet. Together, the two shuffled out of the stall and to the benches near the lockers.
Bobby settled Buck onto one bench and retreated to the sinks as Chimney sat beside Buck, turning the younger man's face to peer at his pupils. Practiced hands took his pulse and felt for a temperature.
Bobby returned with dampened paper towels and a bottle of water. Passing the water to Buck, he folded the paper towels and pressed them against the back of Buck's neck.
With his nausea subsiding, embarrassment was rapidly taking its place. Pink tinged his cheeks as his eyes scuttled between name tags, badges, and buttons.
Everything seems to check out physically," Chimney announced, leaning back slightly. He tried to duck his head to catch Buck's eyes, but didn't quite manage. "How're you feeling, Buckaroo?"
Buck took a sip of water, hesitating to see if it would stay put, then took another. "Stupid."
"There's nothing to feel stupid about," Bobby's voice rumbled firmly, the captain's frame leaning against the locker across from him. "Calls like this affect everybody differently. That's why talking it out helps; so we don't suffer quite so much."
Buck felt his nausea threaten to return. The bottle of water in his hand crackled in protest at his suddenly tightening grip.
A hand was suddenly pushing his head down toward his knees. "Deep breaths." Chimney.
Feet shifted in his line of sight, one moving to make room for a knee. A second pair of hands joined Chimney's, pressing the paper towel harder to his neck.
Buck had no idea how much time passed before he tentatively sat back up. "I'm okay," he said shakily.
Neither Bobby nor Chimney were convinced. "Maybe we should get Dr. Wells?" Chimney said to Bobby.
"No!" Buck shouted, the force behind the word even startling himself.
"Buck, if even the memory of today's call is hitting you this hard-," Bobby started.
"It's not!" Buck cut him off. "I mean . . . yeah, it was a bad call, and I want to talk to someone, I do! I just . . . does it have to be Dr. Wells?"
Chimney was frowning deeply, trying to work out why Buck didn't want to speak to their trauma counselor.
Bobby, however, had gone very still. "You don't want to talk to Dr. Wells?" he asked, his voice devoid of any affect but still putting Chimney on alert.
Buck shook his head emphatically. "Bobby, I'm not trying to get out of this. I promise. I'll talk to someone. I'll talk to anyone you want. I will. Just . . . please. Don't make me talk to her."
"Didn't you see her after that kid on the roller coaster?" Chimney asked.
Buck nodded jerkily, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.
"What, did she do something to you?" Chimney pressed, mostly joking.
Buck flinched.
"Buck?" Bobby asked quietly.
A tear slid down Buck's cheek, his eyes locked onto the second button on Bobby's shirt. "I didn't mean to, I swear. I really did go to her for help with Devon; I did. I was telling her about how I was feeling when she moved closer. That's when I realized that she had friended me on Facebook. She told me to delete her; I didn't really understand why. Then we . . . we started kissing, and . . ."
He trailed off, closing his eyes against the disgust and anger he knew he'd find on his friends' faces.
Bobby's expression had frozen, sending a chill down Chimney's spine. The captain stood, dragging a hand down his face before turning and ramming his fist into a locker.
The sudden noise caused Chimney and Buck both to jump. Buck's eyes flew open, more tears sliding free as he looked up at Bobby.
"I'm sorry!" he choked out. "I'm so sorry, Bobby! I didn't mean to, I swear! I know I used to do that all the time, but I swear I didn't mean to! Please don't fire me; I can do better!"
Chimney was aghast. To learn that Buck's therapist had - in essence - assaulted him was horrible enough. To hear Buck apologize for it sent horror and rage tumbling through him on the younger man's behalf.
"Buck." The name fell from Bobby's lips as he dropped to his knees before Buck and yanked him into a protective embrace. Buck burrowed into Bobby, hiding his face as apology after apology spilled out of him.
"Buck, shh, shh," Bobby hushed. "None of this is your fault. You hear me? God, Buck . . . You don't have to see Dr. Wells again. I promise. It'll be okay."
Bobby's eyes shifted to Chimney, sending him a silent command. Chimney nodded and stood, quietly slipping out of the locker room.
As soon as they were alone, Bobby gently drew Buck back and ducked his head to catch Buck's eyes. "Listen to me, kid. What happened with Dr. Wells is not your fault. You hear me?"
Buck nodded hesitantly.
"I'm going to have Eddie take you home," Bobby continued. "I'll check in on you once shift is over." At the widening eyes, Bobby hurriedly added, "You don't have to tell Eddie the reason if you don't want to. As far as the rest of the team is concerned, this call hit a little too hard. No one will question that."
Buck wilted. "Okay." He swallowed thickly. "Bobby?"
"Yeah, kid?" Bobby asked.
"Thanks," Buck said. "For, um . . . for listening. And believing me."
Bobby's first instinct was to brush aside the thanks, to tell Buck that it wasn't necessary. He bit the words back, choosing instead to squeeze Buck's shoulder in reassurance.
"You're welcome," he answered. "C'mon. I bet Eddie's already waiting for you outside."
Buck let out a huff of laughter and stood. Quickly collecting his bag from his locker, he led Bobby out of the room.
Sure enough, Eddie was pacing impatiently on the other side of the door. The minute he noticed Buck, he headed straight over and wrapped his best friend in a tight hug.
"You okay, man?" Eddie asked gently.
Buck reflexively tightened his grip, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. "I . . . no, not really."
Eddie pulled back to meet Buck's gaze. "Me neither. But I bet a couple of pizzas and a very excited seven-year-old would help."
If Buck's laugh sounded more like a sob, no one pointed it out.
"Sounds like you'll be well taken care of," Bobby commented, passing the bag he'd collected from Eddie's locker to the former vet. "Go ahead on out. Buck, I'll see you later."
Bobby watched fondly as Eddie draped an arm around Buck's shoulders, steering the younger man out of the bay.
Once his youngest was firmly out of sight, Bobby felt the rage and anger once more fight to take hold. He turned on his heel and strode back towards his office where he had left a very confused Dr. Wells.
The trauma counselor was sitting in one of the chairs facing his desk, concern and confusion at war on her expression. Chimney was leaning against the wall behind his desk, arms folded and expression blank. To the casual observer he appeared calm, but Bobby easily spotted the brewing storm behind dark eyes.
Upon his entrance, Dr. Wells stood. "Captain Nash, is everything all right?"
Bobby called upon every moment of training to keep from snapping at Wells. "I'm afraid not, Dr. Wells," he replied. He moved behind his desk, but couldn't bring himself to sit down.
Dr. Wells hesitated at the abrupt response, her frown deepening ever so slightly. "Well, is there anything I can do to help?" she asked. A wry smile made its way onto her face. "That's what I'm here for, after all."
"I wasn't aware that your idea of 'help' included taking advantage of your patients," Chimney bit out sourly.
Wells stiffened, her eyes widening. "Excuse me?"
"Dr. Wells, it has been brought to our attention that you abused your authority and had sex with one of your patients," Bobby told her bluntly.
"Abused my . . ." Bobby and Chimney watched as realization overtook her. "Buckley," she murmured softly. "Buck." She scowled. "I don't know what Mr. Buckley has been telling you, but I never abused my authority."
"You slept with a patient!" Chimney argued.
"And while it was unethical, it wasn't illegal," Wells countered hotly. "It was between two consenting adults!"
"Buck came to you for help," Bobby stated. "He wasn't in any condition to consent to you."
"How many others have you taken advantage of?" Chimney demanded, straightening and moving closer to the counselor. "How many others came to you for help, only for you to seduce them into your bed instead?"
"How dare you-!" Wells started.
"Enough!" Bobby thundered.
Chimney stepped back but remained tense as if ready to jump into action on Bobby's command.
"Dr. Wells, before I order you out of my house, I want to inform you that I intend to file a grievance against you to the department and the licensing board," Bobby announced. "I plan to pursue the issue to its fullest extent. Whether or not you manage to hang onto your license remains to be seen, but I guarantee, as God as my witness, you will no longer be employed by the city of Los Angeles."
Wells' face was red, though in anger or embarrassment neither man could tell. "You can't do this," she stated, the slightest tremor in her voice. "I'll fight."
"You can try," Bobby snapped. "Now get out."
Grabbing her purse, Wells stormed out of the office.
Chimney turned to Bobby. "What now?"
Bobby sat down at his desk and picked up his phone. "Now we make sure Wells won't hurt Buck, or anyone else, ever again."
END