Hen was going to blame the dumbass duo for this. She was going to, but she knew it wasn't their fault. Unless they someone caused the mess of time that she was currently caught up in. In that case, she was definitely going to blame the dumbass duo.

After Eddie and Buck had disappeared in the maze of mirrors, and after Chimney followed after them, Hen became even more worried. Nothing seemed wrong though, other than the fact that three of her friends weren't responding. Bobby, Ravi, and Lucy all looked just as worried. They finished up at the scene but they couldn't leave without their three missing teammates.

That was when Bobby decided, "Hen and I will go in and find them." He'd turned to Lucy and Ravi, lips pulled into a thin line. "I want you two to wait out here. If we don't come out in five minutes, do not follow us in, not under any circumstances. Call for backup. We don't need everyone disappearing into the mirror maze."

Lucy hadn't looked happy at all, hearing that, and Ravi had tried to protest, but Bobby was captain so they gathered themselves and agreed. That was how Hen found herself picking her way through shattered mirrors and bent metal with Bobby in that damn mirror hall. Everything looked the same. Warm amber lights lit the space and the crashed car was still in the back corner, but there was no sign of Chimney, Buck or Eddie.

"Buck!" Bobby's voice was loud in the maze with only the crunching of glass underfoot filling the silence. "Eddie! Chimney! Call out!"

They were near the car when Hen thought she saw a ripple in one of the intact mirrors. Her brow furrowed as she turned to focus on it. The amber lights changed for a split second, and she was staring into Buck's loft. That didn't make any sense though, because this was a mirror hall in a carnival, not Buck's apartment building. But she knew what she saw, and she heard her best friend's voice asking, "Groundhog day?" with a strange sort of tone in his voice that she had grown to associate with dry humour.

The image in the mirror was gone the next second, but the mirror itself seemed to ripple. It was… wrong. The reflection of the light moved as if the pane was shaking. Nothing could have been causing that shaking though.

"Did you hear that?" Hen refocused on Bobby. He was looking at her, his expression a shade paler than normal. "I heard Chim screaming for someone named Kevin. That was his foster brother, wasn't it?"

Hen frowned. "Yeah… I heard him, but I heard him say groundhog day."

"Like the movie?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. This one mirror is giving me bad vibes though. Look."

Hen took a step towards the offending pane, squeezing through the thin frame of a shattered mirror, and blacked out.

•••

The first scene Hen found herself in went by in a blur. She was lying in bed and the room was dark. At first, Hen thought it had to do with the horrible migraine she had. Then she remembered that she shouldn't have been in bed at all. She was supposed to be in a carnival with the sun already disappearing over the horizon.

Something was wrong, and while Hen knew she had to figure it out, she was feeling too dizzy to focus. She quickly realized where she was though, and that set off even more alarm bells. It wasn't her home like she initially thought. It was a small apartment bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the lights were off and it wasn't Karen lying next to her.

Hen shot upright, a move that proved to be a very bad idea with her current migraine. The movement of the bed woke Eva, who blinked tiredly and looked up when Hen threw herself from the bed.

Eva opened her mouth to question her, and then Hen was falling. The throbbing in her skull increased in a great crescendo as the world spun like the universe had dropped its recording camera and this was the resulting video. It was a dizzying mess, and then the crescendo lulled into a retreating wave and the spinning came to a stop and Hen found herself in the station loft.

She blinked once, twice, three times as her brain tried to process everything that had just happened. It shouldn't be possible. She was on a call at a carnival, not with Eva, not at the station. But she was at the station and it there was a thick sort of silence in the air that had only existed during Buck's lawsuit against them and Eddie was glaring a hole into the dining table across from her—

Nothing was making sense. Something happened at the carnival. Something had to have happened at the carnival but what?

"Hen." She flinched in surprise when Bobby appeared in front of her. His eyes searched hers and Hen saw a familiarity that she knew hadn't been so strong when the lawsuit was going on. Bobby gestured towards his office door. "Come on, I need to talk to you."

Wordlessly, Hen followed after Bobby. She was too stunned to think of anything to say right then. Maybe she was in a coma. People dreamt while they were in comas, didn't they? Or maybe it was all a dream; she'd gone home after the carnival call and fallen into bed and she just didn't remember doing that right then.

Bobby closed his office door behind her, then gestured for her to sit down. He didn't sit down behind the desk like Hen expected though. Instead. Bobby sat in the second chair in front of the desk, turning the chair to face her. His expression was serious and he had looked younger, back then— Uh, now…? Time was a mess.

"This is your second loop, isn't it?" Bobby asked slowly.

Hen's brows furrowed in utter confusion. "Uh… Yeah, I guess you could call it that… Does that mean you know what's going on…?"

She didn't like the humourless scoff Bobby gave in return. He ducked his head for a moment, a small curl to his upper lip as he stared at the floor. Then he gathered himself again and raised his eyes to meet hers and nodded.

"Yeah. There was something unnatural in that mirror hall. This is my seventh loop."

Hen's jaw dropped slightly. "Seventh? You've been… what, stuck here for that long?"

Bobby nodded again, pursing his lips. "Everyone is stuck in their own guilty memories."

"So… Eddie, Buck, Chimney?"

"All stuck too. I've only run into you and Chimney so far though. I met you when I was in my third loop. It was your ninth."

And Hen thought she couldn't get any more confused. "I'm gonna need a corkboard and some red string, Bobby. What is going on?"

Bobby let out a small sigh and shook his head. "I wish I could answer that. It's not easy reliving all this guilt. This loop…"

"The lawsuit wasn't an easy time for any of us," Hen offered empathetically.

"I know," Bobby sighed heavily, then shook his head. When had he gotten to look so exhausted? "Maybe we're stuck reliving our guilty memories as a way to figure out what we could have done better."

"But we don't know what that could change in the future," Hen noted, a hint of worry in her voice. "We could start a butterfly effect and make everything worse."

Bobby nodded, then seemed to realize, "You don't know about the code yet, do you." It wasn't a question, and he went on before Hen could answer. "It's something Chim and Buck came up with, apparently, to help figure out if there's anyone else stuck reliving the same memory. It's 'Groundhog Day,' because it was Chim and Buck who came up with it, but it's effective."

Pursing her lips, Hen nodded in understanding. "Groundhog Day…"

And the loop broke. The room around her exploded and there should have been a ringing in her ears, but Hen heard nothing as colour pulsed around her. She felt like someone had a grip on the top of her head and was dragging her through a thin tube while someone else was trying to pull her back by yanking on her ankles. It was an awful feeling as the world rebuilt itself in waves, detail by detail. Sensations came back quickly, one after another and Hen found herself in the ambulance.

Startled by suddenly being behind a wheel, she hit the brakes instinctively. The stop was sudden and rough. There was a yelp from the back and then Chimney was asking what happened. Hen barely registered it, because she was staring at the intersection ahead, where a blue car was now stopped right in front of the ambulance.

It wasn't a collision.

Hen had hit the brakes earlier.

Adrenaline was racing in her blood from the shock of the changing loop dropping her in a moving car, but her heart beat even faster as everything settled and started to make sense. There was maybe a two feet or so of space between the bumper of the ambulance and the blue car. Evelyn was staring wide-eyed at Hen, shock written all over her expression. Hen was yanking her seatbelt off before she could think.

She stumbled when she got out of the ambulance, sure that her eyes were as wide as Evelyn's as the red-haired woman got out of her own car. Hen stopped at the hood of Evelyn's car, watching as the woman shimmied her way out of her car and into the thin space between it and the ambulance.

"I'm so sorry," Evelyn said. Her voice was faint, panicked in a way that said everything that had just happened hadn't fully registered in her mind yet. "I didn't notice the sirens or the lights or anything, and then I saw you and I just froze up, hit the brakes and— I am so sorry—"

"You're alright," Hen cut in and her own voice was just as faint. "You're not hurt."

Evelyn seemed to startle slightly at that, but she checked herself over quickly and shook her head. "I don't think so? Just shocked, you know, but— No, I don't think I'm hurt or anything— Again, I'm so sorry for this—"

"No, I'm—"

"Hen? What happened?"

Hen flinched in surprise when Chimney's voice slammed everything into place. The buzzing in her ears vanished in an instant and all the fog was ripped away. If Hen had been underwater, this was coming up for air. Sound, light and reality, all unfiltered and loud and overwhelming.

Evelyn was alive. She was alive. Reality changed. It was different, but it wouldn't last. It couldn't, but Evelyn was alive right now and she was alright.

"Hen?" Chimney's eyes were on her, but Hen couldn't look away from the woman in front of her. "Hen, we have to go. Jerome needs to get to the hospital… Is everything alright? Something going on?"

Hen went to respond and gravity spun. It was nauseating, the mess of shapes and brightness and gravity was spinning like a goddamn top for no good reason. It was her third time experiencing it though and somehow, Hen was getting used to it. She didn't want to get used to it. That meant that she'd been stuck in whatever she was stuck in for far too long.

When the world decided an orientation, Hen found herself on her feet. The lighting was dim and colour was splashed everywhere. Hen could only think of one place like this.

She was quickly proven right when she turned and saw Bobby and Buck making their way over. This was the rage room event. Beside her, Chimney frowned. Hen frowned in turn, because she was already picking out a few differences than what she remembered, but things shouldn't be different, should they? If no one else was aware of the loop, then they had no reason to change—

"Groundhog Day," Chimney blurted, and Hen's frown deepened before she remembered.

The code. The easy way to know if anyone else was stuck.

She almost sighed in relief. "No way."

Her heart was still racing from her previous loop and Bobby's eyes were wide like he was coming down from an adrenaline rush too and Hen nearly missed the fact that Buck was now on the phone with Eddie, who was apparently also in the loop. Everyone was there, which had to mean they were all alright. Physically at least, because there was a shaking in Bobby's hands and a haunted look in Buck's eyes and a tension in Chimney's shoulders.

There were all these signs that guilt was playing them like puppets on string and Hen couldn't be sure that she didn't look the same.

"Let's find a private corner," Bobby suggested. He sounded like he was trying to be the Captain, but he looked so exhausted and ready to collapse. "We all need to figure out how to get out of this."

Michael had since followed Lena in entering one of the rooms. There wasn't anyone else around, but they still found a corner to claim. Bobby leaned heavily against the wall and Buck had started a video call with Eddie and Chimney was looking increasingly more worried as he took in the state of the others. Hen was getting worried too. She'd never seen Bobby look so tired, not even after their longest shift. Buck's shoulders were hunched in the way he held himself when he was unsure. And Eddie…

Eddie looked like he'd fought his way through Hell and come out the other side. They were in the past and everyone was younger than what Hen knew, but Eddie's eyes told a story that should only belong to someone years older. It looked like he was sitting in his truck with only his phone casting light over his face, and that only highlighted the bone-deep weariness that had settled under his skin. His eyes were empty, dead in a way that said Eddie was shutting down.

"Where are you?" Bobby asked, and some sort of unspoken connection was linking them together but Hen had no idea what it could be.

"Got dropped at an underground fighting ring." Fuck, even Eddie's voice sounded dead. "Fled… What… What time is this?"

"Not long after the lawsuit."

"Huh…"

"Eddie." Buck's voice was pleading and Hen winced. "Eddie, come back. Come on, don't do this."

Eddie didn't seem to really register the plea. He was deep in a hole and he looked dead. No light came back even as Buck begged. What could have caused that? All of the guilt they've been stuck reliving, but what…? If anyone would have known what it was, Hen would guess it would have been Buck. After all, the two practically lived in each other's back pockets. But it wasn't Buck who knew. It was Bobby.

"You didn't come straight here," the captain noted. The exhausted edge to his voice was back and Hen shared a grimace with Chimney. "Chimney said you didn't come straight here after—"

Eddie flinched so strongly that Hen knew something had gone wrong. "I had the shit at Howie's and then something from my time in the army."

Bobby's lips pursed. "He's alright, Eddie. Buck's right here."

"We don't know if he was stuck there too," Eddie snapped, anger suddenly flooding his expression and it was scary, how the exhaustion was washed away. "He could have been stuck there, Bobby, and fuck— Time is all messed up, it might not have happened for him yet—"

"What happened?" Buck cut in. His eyes were wide but steely, a look Hen was used to seeing if it weren't for the exhaustion lingering in his expression. "I can take it, what happened?"

And Bobby flinched and grimaced so badly that Hen knew to suspect the worst. Eddie shut down again, anger vanishing just as fast as it had appeared.

"Bobby." Chimney reached out a worried hand to steady the captain when his legs shook. "What's going on? Let us help you."

It had been years since Hen had seen Bobby like this. Shaking and beaten down so badly it was scary. It had been years and Hen knew she never wanted to see it again.

"It was another loop with all of us," Bobby started. Then he glanced at Buck and conceded, "Four of us, at least. Hen, it's right after this loop for you. Chim, I think you said it was your ninth."

"Eighth," Eddie corrected with a toneless voice. "It was his eighth. You both knew a loop like that was coming."

By this point, Buck was standing so close to Bobby he was practically leaning against him. Buck looked so small, but he was also trying to comfort Bobby. They'd all crowded closer to one another in a tight huddle but time had them in its grasp and comfort wasn't anything that seemed to be enough.

"What was the loop?" Hen asked hesitantly, not at all sure she wanted to know.

Bobby winced again as he admitted, "It was the bomb."

Hen had enough time to see Buck turn pale, and then the loop shattered. The loop shattered and Hen was scared. Bobby had said it was her next loop. The ladder truck bombing had been horrible the first time, but something had to have gone even more wrong to break her teammates like that. Hen wanted to run in the exact opposite direction but time didn't give choices.

The lights of fires were the first thing Hen registered. She was tucked behind the engine, Eddie in front of her and Chimney behind. Costas was pacing in front of the ladder truck just like he had been the first time.

"Oh…" Chimney sounded… scared. "This."

Hen pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder. "Chim? Is that you?"

Chimney turned to look at her and grimaced. "After the rage room, yeah. I guess we're gonna see what hit Cap and Eddie so hard."

"After the day we've had," Hen started, shaking her head. "I don't want to."

"You know what's going on then?" Eddie's voice sounded from behind her and Hen had forgotten he was there.

She spun around and Eddie actually looked better than he had in the rage room. He still looked tired, but his eyes were alive and Hen hadn't realized how much she missed that. Dead wasn't a good look for him. For anyone, for that matter, but there was little choice when you were caught reliving everything that made you feel guilty.

"How much do you know?" she asked.

Eddie lifted one shoulder in a half-assed shrug, glanced back at Buck pinned under the truck and pursed his lips. "My first loop, I ran into Buck. He explained enough of what happened and what's going on. But you two know what's happening in this loop."

Chimney grimaced and that was enough of an answer.

"There's another loop coming where we're all together," Hen explained slowly. "It was before this one for Chim and I, but it's after this one for you and Bobby. Whatever happens, it hits hard."

Eddie scowled and shifted his gaze back to where Buck was pinned. "Harder than just reliving this again?"

"It has to be," Chimney muttered. "Fuck. Fuck, I can't—"

Bobby was already walking out to face Costas. Hen pursed her lips anxiously, waiting for something to go wrong. Did Costas trigger the bombs strapped to him? It was possible, with all the moving parts in the scene. They had gotten lucky the first time around. Something must have happened to that luck in the loop, but everything played out the same way it had the first time.

Bobby fought Costas over the trigger. When it was safe, they rushed in to take care of Buck. Chimney gasped out a rough, "Groundhog Day," to Bobby, along with a hurried explanation. Bobby's eyes were wide but his expression carried the slightest bit of relief.

"Buck, how we doing?" Hen asked just like she had the first time. Then she remembered: Eddie hadn't been sure if Buck was relieving this loop too. She had to check though, because if Buck was reliving this moment too… Hen couldn't imagine the pain that would inflict. "You know the phrase Groundhog Day?"

The only answer she got was a pained moan. Maybe it was just the adrenaline, but Buck seemed worse than she remembered him being the first time around. He'd been somewhat lucid then, aware enough to answer her question without much hesitation at all. He seemed to be struggling now, whimpers passing his lips as Hen fixed the collar around his neck.

She could tell the others noticed it too. Eddie's voice was losing the cool professionalism he'd had the first time. They were panicked and that wasn't helping anybody, least of all Buck. He was definitely weaker than he had been the first time around, barely moving as they worked to save him.

Chimney called for the civilians' help as soon as they were ready to lift the truck and if Buck's screams sounded drier and more anguished than the first time, then no one mentioned it. Hen had a sneaking suspicion she knew what happened in this loop, and she desperately wanted to be wrong. But in the rage room, Bobby had been shaking worse than she had ever seen and Eddie didn't just shut down anymore. Something had happened in this loop and it was getting hard to think of anything else that would have hit so goddamn hard.

They pulled Buck out from under the ladder truck just like they did the first time. Hen was watching him carefully as they maneuvered him onto the backboard, so when Buck stopped moving, she was the first to notice.

"He's not breathing," she called, already reaching for the bag valve mask. Anything to get Buck to breathe. "Come on, Buck. Don't give up on us now."

Hen didn't miss Bobby's pale, wide-eyed look, or Eddie's rising panic. She shared a look with Chimney, and she knew they had both realized what had happened. That didn't mean they just gave up though. No one ever gives up in a family like them. You don't give up. Not for anything, so they weren't going to give up on Buck.

Evelyn had lived. For a moment, somewhere in the mess of time, she had lived. Why not Buck?

Time, fate, the universe. Whatever you chose to blame, they were all cruel. Everything moved on without care, but Hen had to pray that nothing that happened in the loops would last. She had to, because Buck wasn't breathing under her hands and Eddie was reporting no pulse in a voice that shouldn't have belonged to him.

Buck was dead, and Hen didn't know if she would have to live with that.