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“I’ll go up.”
The words are out of his mouth before he even registers what exactly he’s volunteering for. All he knows is that there is someone who needs help, and that’s what he’s here to do.
Owen’s head darts towards him. “I just said I don’t feel comfortable sending anyone up in the chopper. Do you really think I’m going to send my only son up there alone? Absolutely not.”
“Uh, he wouldn’t be alone,” Buck awkwardly shifts next to him. TK had not even noticed that the other man had followed him over to the tent. “I would go with him.”
TK studies the other man carefully. The pair had only spent a few hours together, yet here he was offering to put his life on the line and volunteering to go on what he could only describe as a suicide mission.
“I don’t know about sending two of our best firefighters up there. With the way the wind is shifting, it’s not safe for anyone.”
“What do you think, you’re going to go up?” TK cuts in. He knows Owen was considering it. Someone has to go up to search for the kid and if he doesn’t want to send anyone else up, that’s code for he’s going up alone. “You’ve had enough brushes with death.”
“And you haven’t?” Owen stares at TK intently, with TK returning the glare. They are both aware of the time being wasted by arguing. Though TK has no intention of backing down any time soon.
Finally, Owen sighs. “Fine. Please be careful, both of you. And keep your radios on. We don’t need any more rescues today.”
TK shares a look with Buck, giving him a light pat on the back before they grab their gear and head toward the helicopter.
“We’re really doing this, huh?” Buck says as they both make themselves comfortable in the confined space.
“Afraid so,” TK gives him a smile and a raise of his eyebrows. “Too late to back out now, though.”
“Backing out isn’t really my style anyway,” Buck says lightly and TK grins appreciatively as the pilot climbs in.
“We’re going to do this fast and safely,” he tells them through the comms. “It looks like we have a window to do this, but it’s a small one.”
“Copy that,” Buck replies while TK nods, using the moment to survey the contents of the medkit he had grabbed. Buck notices and raises an eyebrow.
“What, are you a paramedic too?”
“Not here,” TK replies without looking up, “Texas firehouses are structured differently so I can only do one, but I was dual certified back in New York.”
Buck raises an eyebrow at the other firefighter as he closes the med kit, apparently satisfied with his inspection, “You were a firefighter in New York? Like, New York City?”
“FDNY, Ladder 252,” TK retorts with a grin, reaching out and fingering the pendant hanging around his neck absentmindedly.
Buck lets out a low whistle as the helicopter takes off, “That’s pretty impressive. FDNY is the second-best fire company in the country — after LAFD, of course.”
“I think you have your stats backward, Buckley.”
Buck grins, but any retort he could have made is interrupted by the pilot.
“Our time up here is limited at best, so let’s get this done fast.”
TK nods and picks up his radio: “Great Oaks strike team leader, this is air support. Judd, do you copy?”
“TK, is that you?”
“Yeah, we heard you could use a hand. What’s your 20?”
“We’re a few clicks west of the camp. We haven’t seen any sign of the kid yet. We found his tent, but no remains so we think he went deeper into the woods trying to get away from the fire”
“All right, we see you.”
They could see the ATV making its way through the forest path below and TK pulls his gaze from his team to the LA firefighter beside him studying the heat radar.
“See anything?”
Buck shakes his head, “Not yet.”
TK nods tersely and returns his gaze to the window, studying the fireline in the distance. A distance that was growing shorter by the second. He’s doing his best to not let his anxiety show but he can’t help the anxious tapping of his foot against the floor of the helicopter. They need to find this kid soon. Not only so because he needs help but because TK wants his team out of these woods and back to base and relative safety as soon as possible. The ATV Paul and Judd were in looks far too small in the face of the fire raging on the horizon.
“Hey TK, I think I’ve got something.”
TK pulls himself from his thoughts to lean over and peer at the screen in Buck’s hands and he tilts it so the other firefighter can see it better. There is definitely a heat signature under some nearby trees.
“I think you’re right,” TK murmurs, nodding to the radio, “want to give them directions?”
“Judd,” he says into the radio while peering at the screen in his hands, “this is Evan Buckley, 118 Los Angeles. I’m up here with TK and I think we’ve got something under a grove of trees. South-by-southeast of your position. We’re going to get over on top of it.”
“Okay, Buckley, we’re coming at you.”
They’re watching Judd and Paul’s progress on the ground when the radio sounds again, a new voice coming through it this time.
“Buck,” it says, “please tell me it’s not you up in that helicopter.”
Buck shoots TK a sheepish look before grabbing his radio and responding, “Well that would be lying Eddie, and you know how I feel about that.”
There’s a groan and a muttered curse before the other voice comes across the line again, “Does Hen know about this? “
“Probably not.”
There’s another sigh before the voice comes back on, “Just try not to die up there or anything, yeah? Bobby would be pissed if you came all the way to Texas just to kick the bucket on us.”
Buck winces as he grasps the radio again, but his voice is playful when he responds, “‘Kick the bucket’, really Eddie? Who knew bringing you back to Texas would pull all the southern slang out of you. I always knew it was there.”
“Just focus on not doing anything else reckless,” Eddie’s exasperated voice retorts. “It’ll be a long ride back if you get yourself hurt and in the doghouse with Hen.”
“Copy that,” Buck agrees, though his focus has shifted back to the radar. He drops his radio and gestures for TK. “Does this look like…?” he asks and TK leans over to examine the scene on the radar, easier to see now that they are closer.
“It definitely looks like a teenage-sized heat signature,” TK agrees and Buck picks up his radio again.
“Ryder, it looks like you’re closing in on your target.” Buck says into the radio, eyes never leaving the screen in his hands, “Less than 20 meters.”
“You better wrap this up quick,” the pilot notes from the cockpit, turning to face them, “these winds are getting too strong to be up here much longer.”
Buck nods, “I’m pretty sure we’ve found the missing boy, so they should be to him soon and we should be able to head back to base in no time.”
“As long as ‘no time’ is in the next 5 minutes,” the pilot says firmly. “Because that is all the time we have left before this goes critical.
TK is about to interject when Judd’s voice sounds from the radio in his hand.
“TK, we’ve got him!”
TK shoots a look at Buck to see his relief reflected on the other man’s face.
“How’s he look?” he asks into the radio.
“Not good. His ankle’s caught in a bear trap.”
“Think you can get him out?”
“I don’t know, kid. It’s got him pretty good. We’re hooking him up to the LIFEPAK right now but it looks like he’s lost a lot of blood.”
“He’s going to lose a lot more when they try to free him,” TK mutters and Buck looks at him in concern. TK just shakes his head and speaks into the radio again, “How’s it looking, Judd?”
“Not good,” the older fireman admits. “Any chance you could patch us through to medical?”
TK shakes his head even as he is speaking into the radio again, “No time, but I can walk you through it if you’d like.”
“Please do kid,” Judd responds gratefully, “I’m sure JJ here will feel much better about it knowing there’s an actual qualified medic calling the shots.”
TK allows himself a small grin before he jumps right into instructions: “Before you do anything, place a tourniquet 3 inches above the wound. But not over the knee.”
There is a stretch of silence in which Buck, TK, and the pilot wait, each of them eyeing the blaze in the distance.
“Tourniquet’s on, what now?” Judd eventually says.
“Get him out of the trap, but keep the foot elevated above the heart. Then wrap the wound as fast and as tight as you can.”
As TK speaks, he can see Buck watching the ground below, doing his best to keep an eye on the events playing out. He taps his foot anxiously against the floor as he waits for an update until his impatience wins out.
“What’s happening?” TK asks after nearly a minute of silence, “How is he doing?”
“He ain’t doing good. He’s bleeding out and he’s crashing.”
TK curses, “You need to get fluids in him to stabilize him. Saline, now Judd.”
He begins to nervously fiddle with the cord of the radio, trying not to crack under the pressure of Buck watching him intently and Judd doing his best to follow TK’s instructions. If he could, he would jump out of the helicopter right now and be on the ground, doing the procedure himself instead of high in the air, hoping and praying his instructions are clear enough that he won’t be the cause of this young kid bleeding out.
Eventually, Judd’s thick southern accent comes over the radio again: “The fluids worked, brother.”
TK heaves a sigh and shoots a relieved smile in Buck’s direction as he speaks into his radio, “Good work, I had nothing but faith in you two.”
Buck grins back before shifting, getting ready to move, “All right, I’m gonna harness up for the rescue.”
“Not with these gusts,” the pilot interjects with a shake of his head, “we shouldn’t be up here much longer.”
Buck and TK exchange a look before TK speaks into the radio again, “Think you guys can get him out of there on an ATV?”
“Yeah, that ain’t a problem. I gotta pick up Marjan and Diaz.”
“Roger that, see you back at base.”
He exchanges a satisfied grin with Buck, who raises a fist up for TK to knock his own against, “Not bad,” he says with a smirk, “for a New Yorker.”
TK rolls his eyes but accepts his first bump, the satisfaction rolling off him in waves. It’s a familiar feeling that he has grown accustomed to over the years: the success of a job well done and the knowledge that you had saved someone, that they would get to live another day because of you.
He is about to say as much when they are interrupted by the sudden blaring of alarms from the cockpit. He grabs onto the back of the seat in front of him as the helicopter begins to shake and the acrid smell of smoke begins to fill the air.
“Mayday. Mayday. We are going down. This is a distress call. Mayday. Mayday. We are going down.”
The pilot’s voice is tense and TK and Buck exchange panicked glances. The helicopter starts to dip and TK can feel his stomach drop and dread rise within him. But then it rights itself again and he feels the relief wash over him with all the force of a tidal wave. It’s okay—if they can just make it a little further, they’ll be fine.
But the relief turns out to be only temporary as the helicopter lurches again but this time, it doesn’t stop. They are falling and it’s fast and loud and there isn’t time for any coherent thought. All TK knows for sure is the terrifying feeling of falling, coupled with the horror of knowing what is happening without being able to stop it.
Then there is a resounding crash that reverberates through his skull. There is a flash of white-hot pain, and then everything after is a blur before it all turns to black.
The first thing Buck is aware of is the silence.
The alarms and shouting of the pilot on the radio are gone, leaving only the thudding of Buck’s own heart in his ears. He pulls himself up and surveys the scene. The helicopter is in shambles around him and he quickly takes a mental inventory as he begins to shift. He stops abruptly as a sharp pain flashes through his lower body and bites back a curse as he shifts to get a better look. He may not be a paramedic but there is no doubt that his right leg is broken. He tries to bend over to get a better look but stops short when he feels the dull pain of a foreign object embedded into his side. He can’t get a good look at it but logic would dictate that it is a piece of the helicopter and he takes a breath and pushes through the pain, pulling himself up and surveying the scene.
The pilot is only a few feet in front of him and Buck painstakingly pulls himself forward towards the still figure. He reaches out a shaky hand to the pilot's neck, feeling a sharp fear course through him when he doesn’t find a pulse. He shifts and tries again, waiting anxiously but the familiar thrum of a heartbeat against his fingers doesn’t come.
He swallows and pulls his hand away, a whole new sense of gravity washing over him. The pilot is dead, which makes this a fatal accident. It’s with a renewed sense of urgency and dread that he turns away from the pilot and towards where TK should be. He feels a fleeting moment of relief at the fact that he is still in his seat but it is gone a moment later, chased away by fear at the fact that he hasn’t stirred. He falls back into his seat as gently as he can, still wincing as he jars the metal impaling his side, before he reaches over with a shaking hand and laying his fingers on his pulse.
He feels a wave of relief wash over him when the steady thrum of a heartbeat greets his touch almost immediately, and he allows himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe. In the next moment his eyes are open again and he forces him to shift to rescue mode. This is just another accident, he tells himself, and TK is just another patient.
He almost believes it too—the throbbing in his side notwithstanding.
So just as he would with any other rescue he moves closer, leaning in to give the other firefighter a once over. He has a pretty nasty head injury, judging by the blood leaking down from his hairline, and there is definitely something wrong with his shoulder. Buck may only have limited medical training, but he is fairly certain a shoulder is never supposed to look like TK’s does at the moment. And that’s just what’s visible; there’s no way to say what lurks beneath the surface.
It’s with a hesitant hand that Buck reaches out to prod TK on his uninjured shoulder, repeating the process while calling his name softly when he doesn’t get an immediate reaction. He can feel some of the tension fall away when the other man blinks open his eyes: at least he’s not alone anymore.
He watches anxiously as TK blinks again, getting his eyes focused and taking in the scene around him. When the other man’s eyes find him, he offers a small smile.
“Hey man,” he says gently, “good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
TK blinks again, frowning as he considers.
“My head definitely hurts,” he finally says, “and my entire left side. I think my shoulder too?”
“I hate to break it to you, but your shoulder is definitely dislocated,” Buck confirms with a grimace and a nod to where the joint in question is hanging limply from its socket. “And I think you have more than just a headache, so let’s try to take it easy until help arrives.”
The look TK manages to give him even with his eyes narrowed in pain and blood dripping down his forehead is impressively sarcastic, “Buck, we are in the debris of a helicopter inside the active burn zone. Help is not coming anytime soon, and even if it were, we can’t afford to wait here.”
“Haven’t you heard that saying about staying put if you get lost? They’ll come looking for the wreckage first.”
“Yes,” TK agrees, “but can you hear that?”
He looks at Buck significantly and Buck quiets, shifting his attention to the air outside the remains of the helicopter. There is a whistling sound coming through the cracks in the doors. It sounds almost like…
“The fire is creating its own wind” TK points out and Buck’s eyes widen at the implications.
“It’s a firestorm,” he finishes and TK nods grimly, hissing in pain as the movement jars his head. “We need to get out of here!”
TK nods again and reaches around to free himself from his seat. The harness is fastened on his left side though, and he can’t reach it with only his right arm operational. He shoots a look at Buck who nods, unclipping his own harness and shuffling forward to undo TK’s. He can’t stop the pained sound that comes from his mouth when he jostles his leg and the sound of it seems to make TK’s gaze a little sharper as he turns his eyes towards Buck.
“You have a broken leg,” he points out, tone unimpressed, “anything else you’d care to share.”
“Might’ve gotten impaled a bit too,” Buck admits, rushing forward when TK’s eyes widen in panic, “but it’s fine! The piece of metal is still in there, it seems to be stopping most of the blood.”
The look on TK’s face tells Buck very clearly that he is not impressed, but he says nothing as Buck undoes his harness and helps him stand from his seat. He sways a bit once he is on his feet and Buck is forced to reach for him, steadying him as TK blinks again.
“I might be a bit dizzy too,” he admits and Buck opens his mouth to fire something back when the wind suddenly picks up outside, sending a gust of hot, smoke-filled air directly at them. “The fire is creating its own wind!” TK exclaims again, and Buck pauses in his attempts to pry the remains of the door open to look at him.
“You already said that,” he points out, adding to the mental list of complications in his head: definite concussion.
TK sighs and does his best to shrug with one working shoulder, “So I might have a concussion? What do you want me to do, get some rest?”
“Not here,” Buck retorts as he finally manages to wrench the door open, “but we should get somewhere where you can do that.”
“And where I can look at that abdominal wound,” TK agrees, bending over to grab his medkit and slide it up onto his working shoulder before reaching out an arm for Buck, “put your arm around my shoulder, you’re going to need some help navigating on that leg of yours. Once we’re outside of a firestorm I’m putting a splint on it but until, then consider me your crutch.”
Buck looks at TK dubiously. The other man can hardly stand up straight and yet he wanted to support Buck’s extra weight as they waded out into a wildfire without proper protection. He wants to object, but a split second of putting his weight on his leg quickly proves that stubbornness is not an option for him. So he slides forward, taking TK’s offered hand for support as he lowers himself out of the overturned helicopter.
If their situation had looked bad from inside the downed helicopter, it looks terrible out here.
The wind continues to pick up even as they begin their trek; pushing smoke and heat against them as they make their way away from the crash site. Thay had only made it a few painstaking feet from the wreckage when TK suddenly freezes, sending Buck teetering at the sudden shift in momentum.
“Wait!” He exclaims, looking at Buck with wide eyes, “The pilot! We can’t just…”
But Buck shakes his head sadly, “He’s beyond help.”
“Oh,” TK says softly. They are silent then as they continue away from the crash site, the gravity of their situation becoming ever more apparent with the reminder of a body left in the wreckage. They don’t speak beyond necessary communication as they hobble away from the crash site, Buck doing his best to decipher the map he had grabbed from the helicopter.
“It looks like there’s an old mine shaft not too far ahead,” he shouts over the rush of the wind and fire. “It’s not ideal…”
“But it’s cover,” TK agrees, shifting in the direction Buck indicates. “It’ll do until help can find us.”
Buck appreciates his optimism and he hopes he is right. It’s not that he doubts that their teams will come for them—he knows Eddie and Hen would come for him and from everything he’d seen so far he is just as sure that TK’s team will come looking for him too. No, the doubt has more to do with them being allowed to come after them, and their physical ability to do so. They are decently far inside the active burn zone he thinks, based on the fact everywhere he turns he can only see flames and smoke. It might not be safe for them to come in after them, they might not be able to find them in time.
But he shares none of this and instead does his best to alleviate the weight he is putting on TK’s shoulder. He hasn’t said a word about it but Buck can tell that he is starting to fade; the combination of his own injuries and Buck’s added weight taking a toll on him. Thankfully, the mineshaft comes into view a short while later. Buck removes his arm from TK’s shoulder as soon as they enter, grasping the wall instead and lowering himself down to the ground; teeth grit against the pain. He watches as TK hunches over, placing his good hand on his knee and closing his eyes as he takes deep, measured breaths.
But then a moment later he straightens up, reaching for the med bag and crouching down in front of Buck.
“First thing first,” he announces, already rifling through the bag with his one working hand, “I’m going to splint that leg. The abdominal wound needs to be dressed properly but it’s not bleeding heavily and it will be a lot easier to do when we don’t have to worry about disturbing your leg in the process.” He pulls out a splint with a noise of triumph, shifting closer to Buck’s broken leg as he places it on the floor. He considers it before looking at Buck sheepishly, “Could you…?”
Buck simply nods and reaches down to grasp the splint, following TK’s instructions as the other man deftly applies the splint, even with only one working hand. Buck can’t help but be impressed: providing medical care in the middle of a forest fire with only one working arm is no small feat and yet TK is taking it all in stride, calmly going through the motions and doling out instructions as needed. Soon the splint is firmly set and TK shifts his attention to Buck’s abdominal wound, drawing a sharp hiss of pain out of him as he prodded at it.
“Sorry,” he says apologetically, “I know it hurts but I need to know what we're dealing with. I have some morphine here if you think that would help.”
Buck shakes his head, “No, I’ll be fine. I’d rather have a clear head until we are safe, if it’s all the same.”
TK nods, accepting his words without argument as he reaches back into his bag and pulls out some gauze, which he begins wrapping around the chunk of metal lodge in his side. He gestures for Buck to hold the end in place as he begins winding the gauze, securing it in place. He is gentle in his motions and Buck only finds a few moments to wince.
“You’re really good at this,” he notes, the oppressive silence of the mine finally getting to him. “Up in the helicopter too, when you were giving your teammate instructions. That was a tricky and stressful situation, but you took it in stride.”
TK gave him a smile and a small, one-shoulder shrug, “Thanks, but it’s nothing. Just lots of years of practice I guess. Good to know it paid off.”
“It definitely did,” Buck agrees, taking another look down at the wound that was currently being tended to. “And that’s great and all, but do you have any idea what you’re going to do about yourself? I know some basics but I’m no medic and you definitely need one.”
“There’s really nothing we can do for my head,” TK says offhandedly, “but my shoulder will need to be stabilized until it can be reset. I can talk you through it, if you’re up to it.”
Buck raises an eyebrow, “That sounds like a challenge, Strand.”
“Maybe it is,” TK quips back, nodding in satisfaction as he ties off the gauze tightly packing his wound. He puts the gauze back into the bag before rummaging for another moment and coming out with a triangular bandage. “Ready to try?”
The next few minutes are filled with TK giving Buck calm and clear instructions as he bit his lip against the pain with each jostle of his injured shoulder. It was a clumsy process between Buck’s shaky hands and the poor lighting in the mine, but eventually the damaged joint was firmly secured against TK’s body, and he leaned against the wall opposite of Buck with a weary sigh. Buck watched him closely as he shut his eyes and reached towards the med bag.
“That has to hurt like hell,” he notes, “are you sure you don’t want the morphine?”
“No!” TK says quickly, his eyes flying open with a brief expression of panic that is gone so quickly Buck isn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined it. “No drugs. Gotta keep a clear head, like you said,” he adds lamely and Buck has the distinct feeling there was something he was very purposefully not saying, but he let it slide.
“If you say so,” Buck agrees, giving the other man a curious look. They sit in silence for a few more moments before TK breaks the silence with a wry laugh.
“Is it ironic that this is the same shoulder I was shot in 6 months ago?” TK asks into the silence and Buck looks over to see him glancing down at the injured joint with a grimace.
He raises his eyebrows, “Considering that this is also the same leg that got crushed under a firetruck, I would say no.”
“Huh,” TK says, looking up at him with a frown. “I’m not sure what it says about us that we had those injuries in the first place and then that we managed to get them again.”
“It definitely says that we have led some pretty colorful lives for sure.”
“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours,” TK retorts, clearly going for humor but Buck can see the way that he grimaces with every breath and how his eyes are struggling to stay focused on anything. If nothing else, it will help to keep him awake.
“Not much to tell,” he says with a shrug, taking care to not jostle the bandage, “I floated around for a while, never sure what I wanted to do. Traveled around, worked odd jobs as I went. Tried a little bit of everything before I somehow managed to find my way to LA and to firefighting. The fire academy was the first thing I ever finished, and it felt good. I’ve loved this job since day one.”
“There’s nothing quite like it, is there?” TK murmurs softly, and Buck doesn’t like the unfocused look in his eyes.
“How’d you end up in the business,” he asks instead, looking to get the other firefighter talking, “did you drop out of law school or something? Walk away from a modeling contract?”
TK chuckles, “Nothing so dramatic. I did do one semester at NYU—pre-law, ironically—but I always knew this is what I wanted to do. College was just a way to kill some time until I was old enough to start at the academy, and to appease my mom. I think she was hoping that maybe I’d choose something else. But I grew up around the station, and I saw how important the fire crew was to my dad. I wanted to be a part of that, to help people every day just like he did. I never even considered myself doing anything else.”
“Must have been nice,” Buck says enviously, “to have known. I always felt like I was floundering, that I was never good enough at anything to do it for too long. Even when I started as a firefighter I almost messed it up. I thought I was destined to be a screw-up forever.”
“What changed?”
“I almost got fired. Actually, I did get fired. Thankfully Bobby, my captain, has never given up on me. He gave me the second chance no one else ever did, besides my sister. If it hadn’t been for him, I don’t know where I’d be now.”
TK smiles at him, “My dad’s like that too. He has never given up on me, not once. And I’ve given him plenty of reasons too. If it wasn’t for him, I doubt I’d even be alive today, let alone working a job I love in a city where I have finally managed to find my place.”
“It’s amazing how much a place can just click with you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” TK agrees, voice soft and gaze distant. “I actually hated Austin, when I got here. I wasn’t in a good place and I kept lashing out. It was not pretty. But eventually I took a breath, let my walls drop enough to let someone in. That’s all it took. Everything else started to fall in place from there. Really got a jump start after I got shot though.”
“You can’t keep mentioning that and not give me the details,” Buck protests, “that’s just not fair.”
“Says the man whose leg was crushed by a firetruck. I’m not the only one holding out here.”
“I’m getting there,” Buck protests, “a lot of things happened before then, give me some time.”
“You may want to stick to the cliff notes version,” TK reminds him even as he closes his eyes after a fresh wave of pain. “I’m sure our teams will be along to get us in no time.”
His tone is optimistic, but Buck knows that TK is aware of the truth: the chances of a rescue being approved are slim. While the chances of them doing it anyways are pretty good, they are far inside the burn zone. It will be a while before anyone gets to them.
“Nah,” Buck argues lightly, “we have plenty of time and no better way to waste it. No need to rush. Besides, stories like this are best when savored.”
TK looks at him skeptically and Buck is secretly impressed by the amount of snark he manages to fill his gaze with considering how concussed he is, “That sounds ridiculous, you do know that right?”
“Okay, then you go. How’d you end up in Texas? Seems like a big change from NYC.”
“There was an accident in Austin, a little over a year ago. An explosion at a factory killed an entire station. Well, almost the entire station. There was one survivor.”
Buck blows out a breath, his heart hammering in his chest at the mere thought. “That’s…” he begins, and TK nods.
“Yeah,” he agrees, “I can’t even imagine. Judd doesn’t talk about it much, but I know it’s been unbelievably hard on him. But after they asked my dad to come down and rebuild the firehouse because he had done it once before, after 9/11.”
“He was…” Buck says, eyebrow raised, and TK nods.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “He was the only survivor from his house.”
The two lapse into silence for a moment as they both consider that possibility. The thought of losing your crew, your family , is unthinkable. But when Buck looks up again, he notices that TK is starting to drift again.
“So you followed him down here?” he prompts, looking to keep the other man talking.
“More or less,” TK agrees. “I had kind of made a mess of things, back in New York. I screwed up pretty bad and Dad decided that coming to Austin would be a chance for a fresh start. It wasn’t smooth sailing, but eventually, he was right. Now I can’t imagine what my life would be like if we had stayed in New York.”
“I get that,” Buck murmurs in agreement. “I never planned on ending up in LA. I actually grew up in Pennsylvania, right outside of Hershey. I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I had stayed, who I would have become. Definitely not a firefighter though.”
“What, you wouldn’t have worked at the theme park?” TK teases, “Because I can totally see you dressed up in some ridiculous costume, conning tourists out of their money in the name of chocolate.”
“That’s just the concussion talking.”
“Probably,” TK agrees, leaning his head back against the mineshaft wall. Buck studies him in concern. The periods of quiet drifting are getting longer. If he can just keep him awake and talking for as long as possible he might stand a chance. Otherwise…
“You said you met someone, when you got to Austin. Tell me about her.” Buck prompts, pulling a laugh out of TK.
“Him,” he corrects easily. “His name is Carlos and he is probably the best thing to ever happen to me. I still can’t believe I was ever lucky enough to meet him, let alone fall in love with him. The fact that he loves me back still kind of feels like a miracle that should be happening to someone else.”
Buck cocks his head slightly. “Why do you think that? I find it hard to believe you ever had any trouble getting a guy. Just look at you.”
“Are you flirting with me, Buckley?”
“No, I know you’re taken. Keep up, Strand.”
TK smiles, though Buck can detect just a hint of sadness filtering through on his face when he looks down. A few moments pass before he speaks up again. “Maybe I haven’t had any problems getting a date, but finding the right one was hard. You understand how hard it is to find someone who understands what it’s like to date a first responder. On top of that, finding one who wasn’t disgusted or scared to be with me was harder.”
Buck studies him carefully, trying to piece together if he missed something.
“I’m an addict, Buck,’ TK answers plainly, picking up on Buck’s confusion. “And I’ve fucked up, a lot.”
“Oh,” Buck says with a short nod, shifting slightly uncomfortably. “You know, I’ve fucked up too, but the right person won’t care about that.”
That brings a smile to TK’s face as he looks back up. “You’re right,” he agrees. “The right person doesn’t.”
TK isn’t sure how long they’ve been in the mineshaft, or if they have any hope of being saved at this point. With how quickly the wildfires were spreading before, anyone would have to be crazy if they came looking for them.
Luckily he knows five people that are just crazy enough to tear the San Angelo forest apart in search of him. And if the way Buck has talked about his teammates is any indication, it’s a safe bet that they are looking right alongside them.
But he also knows they are running out of time.
They had been forced to use the antique dynamite they had found in crates to collapse the entrance of the mine to keep the smoke and fire out. Which — while it did serve their purpose and protect them from the raging wildfire outside — left them trapped in an old mine and running dangerously short on fresh air. It wasn’t a problem yet, but it would be soon enough.
As it was, the air in the mineshaft is running thin and he can’t move without his shoulder lighting up in pain. He knows Buck is in just as bad of shape, the blood beginning to seep through his bandaging job from earlier and his leg still bent in an awkward position, the splint only able to provide so much relief.
He wants to say something to keep the conversation going, knowing that he is beginning to lose the battle to stay awake. But the concussion is working against him to pull him into a deep sleep and he loses before Buck even takes note.
The next thing he’s aware of is a comforting hand cupping his cheek.
"Carlos?" he asked with his eyes still closed.
There is a laugh from beside him. "Not quite."
TK opens his eyes to near-complete darkness, and blue eyes watching him intently. Buck.
They were still trapped.
"Oh."
"Sorry to disappoint," Buck says with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
TK opens his eyes a little more, trying to force back how tired he was feeling. Buck looks more exhausted and pale now, how long has it been since he closed his eyes? It had only felt like seconds.
"How long was I out?"
"Couple minutes." Buck shrugs before their eyes meet again, his blue ones anxiously scanning TK's face. "Do you have any lung issues? You're not doing too well with the smoke."
TK laughs, the motion stirring another coughing fit. “You know that GSW I mentioned earlier?”
"Yeah?"
"It may have made my lung collapse a bit."
"Ouch," Buck says with a sympathetic wince, “but that might have something to do with this.”
“That, and I think the air in here is getting a little thin,” TK adds. “Every time we exhale, we must be poisoning the air a little bit more now that our exit is completely closed off.”
Buck nods in agreement, appearing to struggle to take deep breaths as well. TK tilts his head to the med beg he thankfully managed to grab after the crash. “There are some oxygen masks in there that will buy us some time.”
“How much time?”
TK averts his gaze, knowing that they were running on borrowed time anyway. Sure the masks will help them breathe, but only for so long. Their exhales will still poison the air, and their chances of being rescued continue to decrease as more time passes. “Hopefully enough until help arrives.”
Buck seems to accept his answer, and rifles through the bag until he pulls out two masks, handing one to TK and pressing the other to his face. TK does the same, relishing in the relief that the clean oxygen provides to his lungs.
They lapse into comfortable silence, with only the sounds of the occasional deep breath filling the otherwise quiet mineshaft. While the masks are helping his lungs, his headache continues to grow. He has enough paramedic training to know that his condition is only getting worse, finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the task of raising the mask to his face every few seconds.
"TK?"
TK looks up at Buck when his companion speaks, unsure of how much time has passed since they had last spoken. "Yeah?"
"Where's your mask?"
"Hmm? Oh." TK's eyes fall on the mask in his open hand. With one arm still stabilized against his chest, and little energy to move the other, at some point he had given up on the task of raising the mask to his face. "There."
Buck scoots himself towards TK, attempting to keep the weight off his injured leg.
TK takes a grateful breath when Buck presses the oxygen mask to his face. The shift from shallow to deep breathing forces a coughing fit up his throat as his lungs spasm.
"Hey, take it easy. Just keep breathing," Buck says, rubbing TK's back as he keeps the oxygen mask pressed firmly to TK's face.
"I'm trying."
"Keep trying. You're doing good. You gotta stay alive ‘til help gets here."
“Yeah,” TK agrees quietly, trying to focus on taking some deep breaths. Silence once again fills the mineshaft, both unsure of what else to say.
TK doesn't even realize he's falling asleep until Buck's voice picks up. If he hones in on the sound, he could make out the beginning notes of panic.
"TK? TK, you gotta stay awake."
Buck sounds scared. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, would it really be so bad if TK just closed his eyes for a few seconds? Maybe a minute?
Help wasn't coming for a while yet, if it came at all. It's not like if TK took a nap they'd miss anyone coming through.
He's barely slept lately, too preoccupied with facing the wildfires for more than a few hours between all the chaos. Then they were in a helicopter crash; if anyone deserves a nap, it's them.
"No, no, no. Keep your eyes open!" Buck shouts, he was tapping TK's cheek with one hand, pressing the oxygen mask firmly to TK's face with his other.
TK couldn't do much more than slowly blink up at his new friend. "Tired."
They'd likely never get out of here with their lives, but they were going to give it their best shot.
"I know. I know you are. But your dad is probably tearing this forest apart to find you, and you have to go home to your boy. Karl, right?"
TK laughed breathlessly. "Carlos. His name is Carlos."
"I'm sure Carlos would like you back in one piece. You can't let him down before I get to meet him."
“I’m sure you two... will get along… well…” he says, letting the pauses between words drag on as his eyes slip closed again, unable to fight it off despite Buck’s pleas.
Even his dreams are jumbled when unconsciousness overtakes him. He dreams he’s at home with Carlos, curled up on his couch, his hand running through his hair. That he’s in New York, stuck on a corner and not sure where to go. He dreams that they were rescued, that his team burst through the collapsed mine shaft. This one is particularly vivid; he can almost feel the warmth of hands on him and hear the panic in voices calling his name. He wants to answer them but even in a dream the pull of the darkness is too strong.
And so he sinks further into the darkness and lets it overtake him once more.
The world around him seems to blur as TK comes to. He vaguely registers the commotion around him and someone talking to him. For a moment as he recalls what happened, he thinks it might be Buck still trying to keep him awake in the mineshaft, before he realizes that this voice is much more soothing, and that his surroundings are much more bright.
His eyes fly open and his body shoots up in a panic before he groans out in pain, squeezing his eyes shut again to block out some of the light and rubbing his injured shoulder which he can now also feel is bound tightly to his chest in a sling, further confirming his assessment that he is no longer in the mineshaft.
“Take it easy, TK. You’re okay,” the soft voice cuts through the commotion again.
TK cracks his eyes open enough just to make out Carlos’ unstyled curls and warm, brown eyes.
“Carlos?” TK rasps out, trying to distinguish if he’s actually here or if his concussion is even worse than he realized.
“Yeah, babe. I’m actually here,” Carlos lets out a light laugh and runs his fingers through TK’s hair.
TK would try to figure out if he actually voiced the last part out loud but he’s far too relieved that his nightmare is over and Carlos is here with him.
“Here,” Carlos says, handing him a water bottle and some medicine. “You should take this and drink something.”
TK must make a face because Carlos quickly adds on, “Relax, it’s just Advil to help with the headache.”
“Concussion?” TK asks after he swallows the pills and a little water.
Carlos nods. “Grade three, pretty bad. Your friend said you were in and out of consciousness for a bit, though that could also be attributed to the lack of oxygen. Plus the dislocated shoulder which the doctors already set, but you do need to keep that sling on for a few days.”
“Is Buck okay?”
“Oh, is that the name of the guy who is just as much of a danger magnet as you are apparently?” Carlos lightly chuckles. “He’s okay too. Recovering in a different tent. I heard he lost quite a bit of blood from that wound in his side, and he’s also got a broken leg too.”
“Yeah, I could tell he was hurt pretty bad too. I couldn’t do much about it though. He spent more time trying to keep me awake and talking.”
“Remind me to thank him later.”
TK gives him a small smile. “So, are you going to tell me how you’re here? I mean, what happened? Who found us?”
“I’m here because your team called me as soon as they heard the mayday call when your chopper went down and I couldn’t rest until I knew you were okay so I drove out here. Your team are also the ones that found you. Not sure whose bright idea it was but apparently they stole a firetruck to search the area until they found you guys,” Carlos explains, giving his uninjured arm a gentle rub. “Honestly, that sounds more like a dumbass idea you would have so I guess you might be rubbing off on them. But I can’t complain, because it brought you back to me.”
TK softens and ignores the pull on his shoulder to lean over and give Carlos a hug. Carlos is caught off guard at first before he gives into the hug, not squeezing too tight as to not hurt TK more but holding him close enough that TK is comforted by the touch.
When they break free from the embrace, TK can’t help but let his lips connect with Carlos’ in a deep, passionate kiss.
“I love you,” he whispers into the kiss as they disconnect.
“I love you too, babe,” Carlos says, easing TK back into a comfortable position on his cot with light touches that purposely last just a few seconds too long. “Now, please try to get some rest. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
TK obliges letting sleep once again take hold of him, this time with no one trying to keep him awake.
And true to Carlos’ word, he is still there when TK comes to again. Though this time, he finds that he’s not alone with the other man engaged in a deep conversation with Buck.
“—and I looked over and had to do a double take because he’s ripping the bumper off of the bus before going back inside. But it gets worse, because then the bus catches on fire,” Carlos continues, not having realized that TK is awake.
“No way,” Buck says wide-eyed, hanging onto every word Carlos says.
“What are you telling him, exactly?” TK says, straining to sit up and join the conversation and catching the attention of both men.
“Dude, you did not tell me you burst your stitches in a solar storm three days after you got shot!”
“Yeah, I guess I left that part out,” TK laughs. “But did Carlos tell you that all led to how we officially became a couple?”
“I was getting to that,” Carlos gives him a smile before turning to Buck. “I’ll give you guys a moment.”
They both watch as Carlos crosses the tent before Buck looks back to TK. “He’s a great guy. I can see why you were so anxious to get back to him. You guys really have something special.”
“Yeah, we do,” TK smiles, trying to hide the blush that rises in his cheeks. “Hey, thank you for everything back there.”
“You don’t have to thank me, TK. You helped me out too. I don’t think I could have asked for a better person to be stuck in an abandoned mineshaft with.”
“Yeah, same here,” TK says through a chuckle. “But seriously, keeping me talking, it helped a lot.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize how much we had in common. You helped me work through some stuff too, so thank you. And hey, if you and Carlos ever find yourselves in LA, hit me up. I’d love to show you guys around.”
“I will. And same to you, if you ever find yourself back in this area.”
“Will do.”
“Buck!” A new voice breaks through their moment causing both men to jump.
“Hey, Eddie. You remember TK, right? I just came to check on him.”
“I do. Glad to see you’re doing better, TK,” Eddie says before turning back to Buck. “You’re not supposed to be up. I told you to rest.”
TK bites back a laugh at the familiarity of the conversation, getting deja vu from all the times he’s had similar ones with Carlos.
Buck gives him a sympathetic smile as Eddie helps him up, handing him his crutches which had been resting on the ground next to his chair. “We’ll connect again soon?”
“No doubt,” TK replies, watching as the two men exit the tent, passing by Carlos on his way back in.
“Is that Buck’s boyfriend?” Carlos asks as he returns to his spot perched next to TK’s cot.
“I don’t know. He didn’t mention anything, but they do seem close.”
They both shrug before Carlos reaches over to gently cup TK’s face. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” TK gives him a smile. “And I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”