Chapter Text
Three months. That amount of time can fly by or crawl by. For Buck, the last 3 months since he has been back at the firehouse have certainly CRAWLED. He has been reminded daily that he doesn’t belong there, that no one is welcoming him. If you asked him 3 months ago how long he’d be iced out, he would have guessed a week, maybe two. Figure that everyone would see he learned his lesson and got over it. Afterall, he didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, they were willing to settle with him, so he was right…right? Honestly, he didn’t know anymore. The longer this dragged on, the more Buck was losing any confidence he had. He was no longer confident that the lawsuit was his only option. He was no longer confident in his talent as a firefighter. He was no longer confident that he had any friends left. No. Friends don’t treat you how he is being treated. Ridiculed, bullied, ignored.
His days consist of Bobby barking orders. Eddie making harsh comments. Hen and Chim occasionally seem to want to say something, whether it is to defend him or to join in, he isn’t sure, but they end up just keeping quiet. Everyone else in the firehouse is following Bobby’s example. He keeps telling himself that it’ll get better, that they all love him and will come around. But now in month three, he isn’t confident of that either.
Late last week Hen, Chim, and Eddie all came down with the flu. Even with the three of them out, he still wasn’t allowed on calls. Instead, guys from the B shift covered for them. Bobby, for his part, seemed to avoid getting sick and up until recently, so did Buck. He shouldn’t be shocked that it finally got him though, he was put in charge of cleaning and had to clean up some nasty stuff last week. As much as he wasn’t happy about being sick, it was still going to be a break from the station, and to be honest, he could use it. He started feeling symptoms a couple days ago, but today he woke up and could barely get out of bed. He had a shift in two hours and knew he shouldn’t be there. On top of not wanting to get anyone else sick, he was so weak. Still, he got out of bed and took some Tylenol and then grabbed his phone to call Bobby. He was dreading this, but it needed to be done and honestly how mean could he be to him? I mean Hen, Chim, and Eddie all missed multiple days before they came back. What could Bobby say to him? He took a deep breath and pressed Bobby’s name, taking a deep breath as it rang.
“What”
Ok, not maybe the greeting he was hoping he’d get, but here we go. He cleared his throat and started talking, he could hear how awful he sounded
“Um, Bo-Captain Nash. I won’t be able to come in today. I woke up feeling awful. I guess those germs I cleaned up finally got me, huh?”
Ok, stupid joke, but still funny? Well, I guess Bobby didn’t think so because he is certainly not laughing.
“Very professional, Buckley. Is that how you call in for a sick day?”
“O, no. I’m sorry Captain Nash. Um, I am calling to tell you I won’t be able to make it into work today.”
“Denied”
“What? I-I don’t understand. I have days to use if that is the issue, I checked to make sure.”
“The issue is, I am denying you. You are more than capable of doing your job, even feeling a little sick.”
A little sick? Buck felt awful today. His last two shifts he did indeed feel a “little sick” but today? He felt like he got hit by a bus. His head weighed about 200 pounds, or it felt like it. His throat was killing him. He was beyond congested. He had a bad cough and barely had a voice at this point. His legs felt like jelly too. He was not “a little sick”.
“Bobby, I’m not---”
He was quickly interrupted.
“What did you call me!?”
“O. I’m sorry, Captain Nash but I’m not a little sick, I truly feel awful. I must have caught what Hen, Chim, and Eddie had last week. An-and they took sick days.” So why can’t I?
“Well, they go on calls, Buckley. You are doing chores. I don’t think you need to be 100% to move a mop. Do you?”
“I, I just, I feel awful. Maybe I’ll feel better tom- “
“Come in today or don’t bother showing up again, got it Buckley?”
And with that, Bobby hung up. Buck stared at his phone; he wiped his hand over his face and looked at the time. He had an hour and 20 or so minutes before he’d have to leave for work. He honestly believed it might take him that long to get ready. His body ached, his limbs didn’t work, and he just wanted to go back to bed. After maybe 10 minutes, Buck was able to get himself into his bathroom to shower. It wasn’t quick and by the time he got out, got dressed, did his hair, and brushed his teeth, it was about time to go. As he slowly made his way down his steps, he decided that maybe he shouldn’t drive. He was weak and to be honest felt like he was going to fall asleep. He ordered Uber and didn’t dare sit down, as he waited for it to show, for fear he wouldn’t get up. As he got into the car and headed to work, he couldn’t imagine it would ever get this bad. Not too long ago Bobby would have come to check on him before work, telling him to rest, bringing him soup, and Gatorade, and whatever else. Now, he hates him. Denied him a sick day. Somewhere in Buck’s fuzzy brain he knew that wasn’t legal, but he also knew that he didn’t have anyone in his corner, so off he went to work. He prayed he could get through the day…