Buck all but ran out of the station at the end of his shift. He knew things with the team were still tense after the lawsuit. He knew he deserved it.

The cold stares. The distance. The muttered insults. The rejection. The endless chores. Being the man behind, not being allowed on calls.

He took everything they threw at him with stride, thinking that they'll get over it sooner rather than later; that things will soon get back to normal.

But three months later, things at the station were more or less worse than the first week he's had since being reinstated.

He only wanted to get back to them. To his family. They were all he had. He had tried to approach Bobby countless times over the past three months, and yet the fire captain was adamant at keeping him at arm's length.

Buck never gave any indication that it affected him, but it hurt him so much knowing that Bobby was distancing himself from him.

He could live with Chim and Hen's less-than-engaging attitude towards him. A curt nod here and there. He could live with Eddie ignoring him, if only because Carla, oh so sweet and understanding Carla, understood him better than any of the people he calls family and would call him so Christopher could talk to him behind Eddie's back.

Those secret talks with Christopher and Carla have been heaven-sent. But still, the hurt and the pain lingered. Because as much as he was relieved to be able to talk to him again; as much as he loved talking with his Superman, he wasn't exactly the one Buck wanted and needed to have a conversation with.

It was Bobby.

He could live with the fire captain barking orders at him in the station for most of his shifts. He could live with doing the nastiest chores Bobby gives him at work or the curt nods of acknowledgement and nothing more.

But he couldn't live with the cold hard gaze from the fire captain. He couldn't live with being kept at arm's length. He couldn't live with the invisible wall Bobby seemed to have built up so damn high between them but ceases to exist with everybody else at the station.

And that fact alone hurt more than Buck was ready to admit.

Because for all the personal growth and maturity he had acquired during the past three years since starting at the 118, the ignored and abandoned child in him couldn't live with going through the same experience-the same pain-again.

And that was exactly how he was feeling.

Why couldn't they understand his side?

Why couldn't Bobby?

When he heard Bobby invite Eddie, Hen, and Chim over to his and Athena's for dinner earlier that day almost made Buck cry. He did falter in his steps, however, as soon as the four of them caught sight of him, and Buck was quick to excuse himself from the room. And when Eddie and Chim deliberately discussed the barbeque being held at the Grant-Nash household later that evening after their shift in the locker room within his earshot along with less-than-inviting smirks and judgemental stares sent his way, Buck knew better than to hang around. He had to get out of there.

Any other day, before his life was completely tilted off its axis and became the mess that it was now, Buck would have spent every second he could with them inside the station. Sometimes even staying later than he would have just to keep Bobby company while he finishes up paperwork.

Any other day and Buck would not have left the only place that felt like home for the past three years like he was being chased by a wild coyote.

But that's the thing, isn't it?

Being in the station no longer felt like home.

Hell, he no longer felt like family.

He felt like an intruder.

The place he once called his safe space had become a prison. Suffocating him to the point that he would be rushing to leave the moment his shift ended. Most of the time foregoing a shower and just hastily grabbing the meager things he kept in his locker for the duration of his shift before bolting out the station doors.

The last civil and somewhat casual conversation he had with Bobby at the rage room three months prior reverberated in his head.

"They gave me the option to transfer you. They understood how I might not want you back after everything you put us through," Bobby said, pausing as he looked at Buck.

"But I said no. You're coming back to the 118 where I can keep an eye on you," he continued as he let his gaze settle on Buck who looked giddy and excited at the idea of going back.

"Thanks, Captain. You won't regret it," Buck promised with a bright smile.

Shaking his head as if to rid his mind of that memory before he could spiral and lose himself further, Buck finally reached his jeep and got in. He sat there unmoving for a few minutes as he tried to keep himself from spiraling. It didn't help that when he looked up to pull out of the station's lot, the rest of the team trickled out of the bay doors laughing and joking with each other. More importantly, how the warmth he wanted from Bobby was so easily given to those who weren't him.

Buck blinked and averted his gaze from the group. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest or the tears that were already running down his cheeks as he started the engine, his thoughts spiraling anyway as he sped away.

Away from the hurt.

From the rejection.

From the pain.

From the only family he's ever known.

Away from everything.

And towards the numbness, as he spiraled even further.

You won't regret it.

Oh, Bobby didn't regret it alright.

You might.

During the last three months, he kept telling himself that he wouldn't.

My house, my rules.

Finally losing the last of his resolve, Buck realized how wrong he had been and that Bobby had been right all along.

Because at that moment, he did regret it.

Remember that?

Oh, Buck remembered alright.

It's not like the last three months allowed him to forget that fact anyway.