Chapter Text
He can’t believe it.
A broken, ironic chuckle escapes his mouth, even though it sounds more like a sob than anything. He guesses Eddie was right the other day. He really is exhausting. He exhausted his body so much that it started fighting back against him.
Logically, he knows that’s not how cancer works, but he’s pretty sure his brain stopped working as soon as he got the diagnosis. He’d been sore and lethargic for several days, and at first, he thought it was just depression, but then there were marks that lingered on his body long after they should have faded, even with the blood thinners.
After the embolism, he’s been trying to take his health more seriously, so he scheduled an appointment with his doctor to make sure he didn’t get some kind of infection or something. He figured it was a warranted concern, after being out in the tsunami a couple weeks ago. God only knows what had leaked into that water, and he was scratched to hell and back.
The doctor he went to for all his checkups didn’t find anything like that, so he referred Buck to someone else, a tight smile on his face as he promised that they could help him.
It wasn’t until Dr. Morrow started talking about blood cell counts and genetic mutations and chemotherapy that he finally clued in that he was sent to an Oncologist. A cancer doctor.
He’d been too in his head after the arbitration and the grocery store that he barely remembered to eat more than once a day, let alone do any research into a doctor that someone he trusted recommended to him.
Dr. Morrow told him that it’s a fairly aggressive type, but that they caught it early enough, which would help in his fight against it.
He thanked the doctor absentmindedly, asking for some time to wrap his head around everything that he’d learned and call the office back. Morrow, far too used to being the one to give people life-changing news, understood his need for time, and agreed easily, only reminding him that it’s best for them to get him into treatment as soon as possible.
Buck isn’t sure how he got home, but next thing he knows, he’s stepping through his door into his cold, empty apartment.
It’s only then that he realizes just how alone he is.
All of his friends work at the 118, whom he can’t have contact with. He could probably call Maddie, but she hadn’t been all that happy about the lawsuit either, not understanding why he was pushing so hard to get back. She was definitely on Chim’s, and therefore the team’s, side.
He hasn’t spoken to his parents in years, and even when they were speaking, they never gave two shits about him.
He’s going to die alone.
The thought scares him, initially, but the more it ruminates, the more right it feels.
He’s so fucking tired. He’s defied death over and over and over again recently, and he doesn’t think he has another round in him. Besides, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s already lost the 118, despite, and maybe because of, everything he’s done in order to get back to them.
Bobby doesn’t want him around and everyone else seems all too eager to go along with their captain.
Don’t even get him started on Eddie. Buck hadn’t been aware that Mackey was going to bring Shannon up, although it did make sense for his case, in retrospect. If Buck thought losing Chris in the tsunami was bad, his lawyer throwing Eddie’s late wife in his face was a million times worse. When Eddie had mentioned Christopher at the store, he’d tried to correct his mistakes, offering to see the boy, for both of their sakes, but Eddie didn’t want his apologies or his solutions. He was only interested in reminding Buck of just how badly he’d fucked up, in Eddie’s eyes.
Nobody wanted him around, and he was tired of running from the reaper. Maybe it’s time that he listened, for the first time in his life.
The ringing of his phone jars him out of his thoughts, Mackey’s name flashing across the screen.
It’s with heavy, fumbling limbs that he accepts the call and lifts it to his ear. “Buckley.” He answers tiredly.
Mackey’s news that the city has offered to settle his case to the tune of a few million dollars would have broken his heart the day before, but now, it’s just another sign that he was never meant to go back to the 118.
He initially goes to refuse the settlement, but then it sinks in that, regardless, he’s not going back to the LAFD, to firefighting. He knows he can’t take it with him, but maybe there’s a way he can finally do some good after he’s gone. After a few minutes of working out the specifics of the offer, he hangs up the phone, and begins to make arrangements.