Chapter Text
The first time Buck heard Bobby’s voice, he thought he was already dead.
The world had gone strangely still around him, as if the chaos of the rescue had been switched off. One second there was the scream of metal, the thunder of collapsing concrete, the crackle of fire; the next, silence. He’d been thrown against the floor, pinned under a heavy beam, breath stolen from his chest. Pain radiated through him like fire, sharp and heavy at once.
And then—
“Easy, kid. I’ve got you.”
Buck’s eyes flew open. Dust stung them, blurred his vision, but he could swear—swear—he saw Bobby’s outline in the smoke. Calm, steady, larger than life. Just like he always had been.
“B-Bobby?” Buck rasped, throat raw.
The figure didn’t answer the question, just crouched, bracing hands against the debris as if to lever it up. “Hold on. Don’t give up now.”
Something shifted above him, lightening the crushing weight on Buck’s ribs. He gasped for air, too shocked to cry, too stunned to believe. Because Bobby was dead. Bobby had been gone for months, a wound that hadn’t healed. Buck had cried at his funeral. He’d carried the folded flag, felt the hollow absence in every call since.
And yet…
Bobby freed him. Buck remembered hands gripping his jacket, pulling him upright, half-carrying him through the haze. Bobby’s voice steady against his ear. “Almost there. You’re gonna be okay.”
Then; darkness.
Buck woke in the hospital, confused and broken open, Eddie’s anxious face hovering over him. He tried to ask, tried to say Bobby’s name, but his throat was too dry. Later, when he could, he whispered it, and Eddie’s face crumpled with grief as he explained again what Buck already knew, Bobby was gone.
But Buck didn’t believe it. Not really. Because he’d felt Bobby’s hand on him. He’d heard Bobby’s voice.
And from that moment, something shifted.
At first, it was small. Buck volunteered for the trickier positions on rescues. He lingered too long inside a smoky room, as if listening for something. He smiled through Eddie’s frown, through Chim’s watchful glances. He told himself it wasn’t reckless—it was just…hope.
If he could just get close again, maybe he’d hear Bobby. Maybe Bobby would come for him again.
Maybe he wasn’t really gone.
The high-rise call came on a rare cold day in LA, the kind of crisp air that carried smoke in strange ways. Chim, now captain, led the charge, voice clipped through the radio as the 118 assessed the damage.
“Ravi, Buck—east stairwell, check for anyone trapped.”
Eddie wasn’t with him anymore, he’d switched to paramedic duty with Hen, and Buck had adjusted. Mostly. Ravi was a good partner, steady, eager. But today, something in Buck’s chest itched. The building didn’t feel right.
Inside, the stairwell groaned. Ravi’s flashlight beam jittered across crumbled concrete.
“Man, this place is gonna pancake,” Ravi muttered.
“Then let’s make sure no one’s in here when it does,” Buck said, forcing brightness.
They moved carefully, checking doors, pounding on walls, calling out. No answer. When they reached the fifteenth floor, Buck turned to gesture—and that was when the floor lurched.
“Buck!” Ravi shouted.
The ceiling came down.
When Buck woke, his ears rang. The air was thick with dust. Pain screamed from the side of his head. He tried to move and realized—he was pinned again. Concrete across his leg, sharp pressure against his ribs. His helmet was gone.
“Ravi!” Buck called hoarsely.
“I’m here!” The voice was faint, muffled, but alive. Relief surged through him.
“I can’t see you,” Buck coughed.
“I’m on the other side of the wall! Debris has me blocked in, but I can move. What about you?”
“Stuck.”
There was a pause, Ravi’s voice steadier than Buck expected. “Okay. We’ll wait. The others will get to us. Just…just keep talking to me, yeah?”
Buck tried. He did. But then—
“Hold on, kid. I’m coming.”
Buck froze.
Dust shifted, and through the haze—Bobby again. Older, wearier maybe, but Bobby. He crouched, bracing strong hands against the slab pinning Buck’s leg.
Buck’s chest cracked open. “I miss you,” he whispered, voice breaking. “God, Bobby, I can’t do this without you. I thought I was, but I can’t.”
Ravi’s voice crackled from the other side. “Buck? Who are you talking to?”
Buck ignored him, tears streaking grime on his face. “I thought you were gone.”
Bobby looked at him, eyes soft, pained. “Not gone. Not from you.”
He heaved at the debris, muscles straining. Something shifted. Buck bit back a cry, leg pulling free. His body swayed, concussed and exhausted, but Bobby caught him under the arm.
“Up you go.”
Buck leaned on him, everything spinning, clutching the material of Bobby’s thin tshirt, afraid to let go. “Don’t go Bobby. Please.”
And Bobby, who didn’t remember his name, who didn’t know why he was there, who had been living on scraps and instinct for months, felt something in his chest crack open at the words. He didn’t know this boy, but he knew him. Knew he couldn’t let him fall.
Together, they stumbled out of the ruin.
On the other side of the wall, Ravi was shouting Buck’s name, pounding against debris. He thought Buck was delirious, thought he’d wandered off hurt and confused. His heart hammered as the 118 finally reached him, tools breaking through concrete.
“Where’s Buck?” Chim barked as they pulled Ravi free.
“He—he was there, talking—but then his voice moved away. I don’t know where he went!” Ravi’s words tumbled out in panic.
Eddie’s face went pale. “Then we’ll keep looking. Was he hurt?”
Ravi shook his head. “I don’t know. I could hear him talking, but he wasn’t making much sense. Then he stopped answering me.”
But before they could force their way through the wall—
“118, be advised,” a paramedic’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’ve got a firefighter down outside the east side. Male, late twenties, early thirties. Found collapsed near the ambulance. His turnouts and helmet are missing. We’ll need to make a positive ID on whether it’s your missing firefighter.”
The world froze.
“Buck,” Chim whispered.
They raced outside to find Buck unconscious on a gurney, blood streaked down his temple, ribs strapped, oxygen mask on. His turnout jacket and helmet were gone.
“That’s him.” Hen said. “That’s Buck. How did he get outside?”
“Eddie, ride with him,” Chim ordered, voice tight. “Go.”
Eddie didn’t hesitate. He climbed into the ambulance, settling beside Buck’s still form, his hand trembling as he reached for Buck’s.
The hospital room was quiet except for the beep of monitors. Eddie sat vigil, knee bouncing, unable to stop watching the pale face on the bed. He’d never said it, never dared—but God, he loved him. And the thought of losing him again—so soon after Bobby—
A sound broke his spiraling thoughts. A rasp, rough.
“…Bobby?”
Eddie’s heart stuttered. He leaned in fast, grabbing the water cup, pressing the straw to Buck’s lips. “Easy now, Buck. It’s me. Eddie. Small sips, okay? Don’t overdo it.”
Buck obeyed, eyes glassy. When he pulled back, his gaze sharpened just enough to frown. “Where’s Bobby?”
The words hit Eddie like a gut punch. His hand faltered on the cup, his heart breaking all over again. “You’re confused,” he said softly. “You took a nasty hit to the head. Bobby…he’s gone. Bobby is dead. He’s been dead for months.”
“No,” Buck insisted, the heart monitor sending an alarm as his heartbeat rose rapidly. “No, he—he pulled me out! He was there, Eddie, I swear—”
“Buck.” Eddie tried to soothe, but panic was climbing in Buck’s voice, his body straining against Eddie’s hands. Eddie hit the call button, voice tight as nurses rushed in.
“Please,” Buck gasped, eyes wide with desperation. “You have to believe me—”
The nurse injected something into the IV, and Buck’s body slackened, panic dissolving into heavy sleep as his eyes fluttered closed.
Eddie sat back down, hand shaking as he grabbed Buck’s again. He wiped at his face with the other hand, furious at the tears.
“I believe you,” he whispered to the unconscious man. “Even if I don’t understand.”