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In the end it took several months to bring Ortiz and Gerrard down. The woman was nothing if not vindictive with plenty of power to back her up. It was only through the combined efforts of Hen, Bobby, and Athena that they’d exposed the blackmail Ortiz was leveraging to get revenge on Hen and by extension the 118. Gerrard had been fired, hopefully for good this time, Bobby had been reinstated back where he belonged, and Ortiz had resigned in disgrace. And with Mara finally home, things seemed to be getting back to normal.
But nothing could ever be quite so simple. Hen had only been able to enjoy a few weeks of peace before she’d been woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call.
“This isn’t over, Henrietta,” Ortiz had threatened. “I will destroy your life as you have destroyed mine.”
The next day police had gone to Ortiz’ residence to speak to her, but she was nowhere to be found. So now Hen was stuck with a vengeful woman on the loose, a family potentially in danger once again, and yet still a job to do. She dragged herself to the station and changed into her uniform as if her world wasn’t tilting on its axis.
“Hen?” The soft question came from behind her and she turned to face where Buck was staring at her. His bright blue eyes were even more puppy like if it was possible that morning, heavy with concern. Of course he had heard.
“I’m fine, Buck,” she promised before he could ask, spinning as if to show him she was intact.
“Yeah but that councilwoman threatened you,” Buck said, worrying his bottom lip. “I mean she… she hasn’t tried anything yet right?”
“Not yet,” she answered. “Most of the cops seem to think she was just spouting off now that she lost her seat.”
“And Athena?”
Hen grimaced. “Said it doesn’t hurt to be safe. Denny and Mara are staying with Chim and Maddie until they find Ortiz.”
“What about you and Karen?” questioned Buck.
“Well I’ve been trying to convince Karen to go stay with her parents,” Hen admitted. “She doesn’t want me to be alone, but honestly right now I’m feeling pretty cursed and I don’t want any of my family getting hurt because of me.”
“So come stay with me then,” Buck offered. “I’ll drag out the air mattress downstairs and you can take the bed.”
“Buck,” Hen said with a sigh, resting her hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me either.”
“I won’t,” he protested. “And I’m already on shift with you all the time anyway. So we could carpool.”
Hen moved past him and toward the stairs. “Buck I appreciate it-“
“Please?” She couldn’t help but turn back to him at that. The look on his face was one she’d seen before. It was how he looked when Maddie was kidnapped, when Bobby was injured in the dispatch fire, when Chimney had rebar through his head. When his family was in trouble, he got scared.
“We’ll talk about it at the end of shift,” she relented. Buck seemed to relax and followed her up the stairs to join the others.
She really did love the kid, she wasn’t sure when she became one of the things he was scared to lose but he was one of hers too. They’d supported each other through setbacks, relationship struggles, and a deserted 118 that would’ve fallen apart at the seams without them. She’d always told Karen that she grew up without any younger siblings, but she’d gained one eight years ago in the form of a nervous blonde probie looking for a family.
Buck settled into his usual position by Eddie and Hen took hers beside Chimney, leaning in toward her best friend. “I suppose I have you to thank for him being a mess this today?”
Chim glanced at Buck then back at her sheepishly. “Okay, in my defense I was just calling him to ask if he could watch Jee for a few hours and then… things spiraled.”
In spite of everything, Hen was almost grateful she went into work that day. Her nerves settled as she fell into her usual rhythm of focusing on her job. They made it through two smooth calls. Bobby had nearly finished lunch when the bell rang for the third time.
“Alright I want everybody on point with this one,” their captain instructed. “Brush fire in the park, caller said it looked intentionally set.” The team exchanged looks, fires were already intense enough to handle without the worry that they might have an arsonist to deal with.
Buck and Eddie were assigned to extinguish the rest of the fire while Hen and Chim took their usual positions on triage. Hen wasn’t sure she had it in her to lose a patient that day, but luckily everyone they were treating had gotten away with minor scrapes and burns. It was only a short while later that the scene was contained and they were able to regroup.
“Didn’t see any sign of our arsonist,” Eddie reported.
Hen scanned around the area until she spotted something. “I might’ve,” she said. The team followed her gaze just in time to see the back of a bald man disappearing out of sight. Hen only managed to catch sight of a silver jacket before he was gone.
“I’ll call Athena,” Bobby said.
They didn’t return to the station until after Athena had arrived with another officer to take their report on the suspicious man. Everyone was on edge as they stripped their turnouts and trudged up to the loft.
“Hopefully they catch that guy soon,” Chim commented. “Nice spotting, Hen.”
Hen plopped back on the chair with a heavy sigh. She glanced over at the body who sat next to her, only it wasn’t Chim for once.
“You okay?” Buck asked quietly.
“Just got a weird feeling is all,” she admitted. “You guys didn’t see it but for a split second, I saw his face. And he was looking right at us. At me.”
“Maybe he was mad at us for putting out his fire?” Buck suggested.
“Or maybe he was waiting for us to get there,” countered Hen.
“Alright everybody, soup’s on,” Bobby announced, cutting off their theorizing. Hen shook the thought out of her head for the moment and pulled Buck with her over to the table.
They continued to eat quieter than usual. Hen was content to ignore it for the time being, she already had Ortiz on her plate and that was currently a bigger threat than an arsonist.
Hours went by without a single call and Hen had almost managed to let her guard down again. At least she had until Rosen came up the stairs looking for her. “Hen? Someone’s here, says he knows you?” Hen furrowed her brow, it couldn’t be Denny because he would’ve texted her first. Her eyes widened at the sight of the arsonist from the fire ascending the stairs and shoving Rosen out of the way.
“Henrietta Wilson,” the man growled. “Olivia Ortiz sends her regards.”
Everything seemed to slow in those next few seconds. Hen was paralyzed in her seat as the man raised a pistol to aim right at her, curling his finger around the trigger. There was movement next to her and someone charged forward. A shot went off and Hen jumped, only to realize that the pistol had fired into the air.
It took her a second to realize it was Buck grappling with the man for his gun, refusing to let him aim it down again. Hen was on her feet in the next second and the others all moved forward with her. But they weren’t fast enough. One second Buck was a few feet in front of them, the next he and the man were tumbling over the railing and out of sight. A sickening thud sounded below.
“Buck!” Hen screamed. They all raced downstairs, terrified of what they’d find.
No one was surprised that Eddie reached Buck first, collapsing to his knees and gingerly touching Buck. Hen and Chim were right behind him. Once again Hen only caught a glimpse of the man who’d tried to kill her before he slipped out one of the side exits. Then her attention was focused solely on the injured friend in front of her.
“Buck, talk to us,” she pleaded.
Always the people pleaser, Buck rolled onto his back with a groan. His eyes were dazed and unfocused, his pupils clearly dilated from what Hen could tell. His breaths were shallow and panicked.
“Hen?” he asked fearfully. “Hen, where’s Hen?”
“She’s right here, Buck,” Eddie promised. “We’re going to check you out now, okay? Can you move your feet?” Buck wiggled his ankles back and forth and Hen breathed a sigh of relief that he didn’t seem to have damaged his spine.
“Sh-shoulder,” Buck wheezed.
Eddie examined the shoulder Buck was clutching at as carefully as he could without touching it. “It’s definitely dislocated,” he informed the others. “Might be a fracture too.”
“Getting the ambulance,” Chim stated, slipping effortlessly into paramedic mode.
“Bobby, call Athena!” Hen shouted.
“Already on it,” the captain replied behind her, his gaze locked on the injured young man before him.
Hen slid on the other side of Buck, gently turning his head to look at her. “I’m right here, Buck. We all are.”
Buck nodded, slipping into unconsciousness in the next second before anyone could stop him.
*****
When Buck came to, it was to the unfortunately familiar beeping of hospital machines. He opened his eyes slowly, gazing around the room. His left arm was in a sling. To his right watching over him was Hen.
“What happened?” he croaked groggily.
“You charged a gunman for me, dumbass,” she reminded him with a teary smile.
“Oh…” That did sound like him. “Did I hear the gun go off? Was anybody-“
“Probably a hole in the ceiling now,” Hen interrupted. “But no, nobody got hurt except you.”
“How bad?”
“You’ll be on vacation for a good few weeks,” she said. “One of these days you gotta take some time off without a serious injury. I promise it makes the vacation way more enjoyable.”
There was a knock at the door and both Buck and Hen looked toward where Karen was entering with two cups of coffee. “Happy you’re awake, Buck.”
“Hey Karen,” he greeted with a tired grin. “You and the kids okay?”
“Everybody’s fine,” Karen assured, handing one of the coffees to Hen. “The kids are still with Maddie and Chimney, Bobby’s with the police and Athena’s with him, and Eddie went to your place to get you some clothes.”
“The gunman?” Buck questioned.
“Fled,” Hen replied. “Athena figures Ortiz hired him in the first place. He didn’t set the fire to hurt anybody, it was to make sure I was at work today.”
Karen leaned down and pressed a kiss to Buck’s forehead. “You saved my wife’s life. Even if I hate that you got hurt doing it, I can never thank you enough.”
Buck smiled up at her. “All in a day’s work.”
“Don’t do it again,” Hen warned. “He had a loaded weapon, Buck, you could’ve died.”
“Had to,” Buck told her, taking her hand. “Couldn’t let anybody take you away. You’re family, you’re… the only one who’s never left. You can’t leave.”
Hen softened, reaching forward to cup his cheek. “Never, Buck. And that means you aren’t allowed to leave either, alright? You matter too.”
“I’ll try my best,” he promised.
“Eddie should be back soon,” Karen said. “And then you, Henrietta, are going to eat something. You’ve been standing vigil long enough.”
“You barely ate any of the lunch Bobby made,” Buck commented. “Go get some food.”
“I’m not leaving you alone until Eddie gets back,” Hen insisted.
“Hen, I’m okay,” Buck argued softly. “I’m in the hospital, I’m awake, you don’t have to keep watch anymore. Besides, you heard Karen. He’ll be here any minute.”
Hen exchanged a reluctant glance with Karen. “Just to grab something from the vending machine and then we’ll come right back.”
“Deal.” As they left the room, Buck let himself drift. His arm still ached but he’d been through worse so he’d take the win.
Moments later, a nurse came in glancing down at a chart. He stopped beside Buck’s bed, fiddling with the IV. “How’s your pain?”
Buck was about to answer when it clicked. That voice was familiar. He took a closer look at the nurse, who took a syringe out of his pocket. It was the hitman from the station.
“No, not you,” he choked out. He tried to grab at his IV, but the hitman had already injected the syringe into the line. “Help-“ His cries were muffled when the hitman clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Wouldn’t want to disturb the other patients, would we?” the hitman taunted. “Just let the medicine do its job.”
Buck tried to break free of the man, but his head was only pressed further back into the pillow. Whatever drug he’d been given was already sending a wave of exhaustion through his body. He desperately pawed at the hand holding him down until his arm became too heavy to lift. His eyes slipped closed once more.
*****
“He should be awake by now. How much did you give him?”
“He’s a big boy, had to be safe.”
Buck began to claw his way to consciousness through the heaviness that tried to urge him back to sleep. A tired groan came from his throat as he stirred.
“Good, at least you didn’t kill him before we even started.”
There were voices in the room with him, wherever that was. He blinked his eyes open to try and find out who was talking, but only saw a water stained ceiling above him. His whole body was cold, whatever floor he was lying on hard and freezing to the touch. As he tried to shift his body away from the sensation, something pressed into his wrists and ankles. Wait, that wasn’t right. Why couldn’t he sit up? He tried again to roll on his side or even stretch out, but this time he registered that there were some kind of restraints keeping him in place.
“Try not to panic, Mr. Buckley,” one of the voices said, a woman. “You’ll only hurt yourself further.”
That suggestion did the exact opposite of calming Buck down and he squirmed frantically to get free. A sharp pain erupted from his shoulder. He tilted his head to the side, realizing that there were leather cuffs attached to both his wrists. The surface he was lying on wasn’t the floor, it was a metal examination table. Was he in the morgue? Surely Hen or Eddie or somebody would’ve stopped that from happening. But why was he restrained?
Things started to come back to him. The hospital room, the sedative he’d been forcibly given, the hitman sneaking in to knock him out. He’d been kidnapped. He gave a futile tug on his ankle restraints, his legs squeaking against the table. His hospital gown was gone, leaving him completely exposed in just his briefs and hospital issued socks. The sling that had been on his injured arm had also been removed and the more the drugs wore off the worse the throbbing became.
Footsteps approached on his left side and he tried to see who was there. Finally the hitman’s face loomed over his own and Buck’s pulse instantly skyrocketed. “Welcome back, Mr. Buckley.”
Buck fought to keep himself from trembling. “You could’ve invited me to dinner first.”
The hitman seemed amused at that, huffing out a chuckle. “I would’ve, but unfortunately you got in the way of my work. So plans have had to be changed. You get to meet the boss lady.”
“Boss?” Buck asked. As if waiting for her cue, more footsteps sounded on his right and he turned just in time to spot Councilwoman Ortiz’s face come into view.
“My sources have done plenty of digging on your entire team,” she told him. “And you are a fascinating one, Evan Buckley. Failed ranch hand, failed Navy Seal… failed bone marrow donor.”
That last part stung exactly as hard as she’d intended it to, his role in Daniel’s death a scar Buck doubted would ever heal. But the last thing he would do was give this woman the satisfaction. So he did what he was good at, opened his big mouth.
“Olivia Ortiz,” he shot back. “Failed councilwoman, failed blackmailer, failed mother.” Unsurprisingly a backhand to his face was the response to that comment.
“Do not speak of my son again,” Ortiz hissed.
The hitman grabbed his injured arm without warning and twisted, Buck screaming at the searing agony shooting up his arm. It couldn’t have lasted longer than a few seconds but when the man let go Buck was panting and felt like he might throw up. His heartbeat was racing if the throbbing in his shoulder was anything to go by. Ortiz took hold of his chin and forcibly turned his face back to her.
“This didn’t have to happen,” she said coldly. “You weren’t even supposed to be involved. I want Henrietta Wilson to suffer for what she’s done. But if you want to get in the way, then I suppose I’ll have to hurt her this way. Perhaps she’ll understand when she sees what’s left of you.”
Buck tried to yank away from her grasp, but the pain in his arm forced him to stop moving. “You’re psychotic. You won’t just get away with killing me.”
Ortiz chuckled, sneering down at him. “You misunderstand, Mr. Buckley. I have no intention of killing you, there’s no need. But you’ll wish I did.”
“I’m not scared of you,” he said, scowling at her. “My family will come for me and make you sorry.”
“Family?” Ortiz asked, releasing his face. “That’s an interesting way of describing the coworkers you had to sue to allow you back to work.”
Not this again. Buck and Bobby had already talked to death about where they’d both messed up in that whole mess and he wasn’t about to let some random asshole reopen old wounds years later. “Families fight,” he replied nonchalantly. “Maybe if you and your son had fought more, he’d still be-“ He was cut off by an even harder smack that rattled his already aching head.
“Enough of this,” she hissed. “Gordon, if you please.”
Before Buck could comment on Gordon not being a very intimidating name for a hitman, his head was held down and a strip of duct tape was placed over his mouth. He shouted muffled protests to no avail. As both his tormentors stepped out of view, he resumed fighting against his restraints. He tried to so much as loosen one of the cuffs, but they only dug further into his limbs.
“You have a very strong will, Mr. Buckley,” commented Ortiz. “Let’s see if we can break you of that, shall we? Gordon?”
“With pleasure,” Gordon replied. There was rustling and Buck squirmed in his attempts to see what exactly they had planned for him.
His answer unfortunately came mere seconds later. The prongs of a taser jabbed into his side and electricity surged through his body. Buck screamed beneath the tape, convulsing helplessly from the power of the shock. When Gordon pulled the taser away Buck went completely slack, groaning and trying to curl into himself before the restraints stopped him yet again. His reprieve was over before he could fully recover and the second shock delivered even more agony than the first. Gordon subjected him to two further shocks, each time Buck sure that his heart would finally give out. Finally, Gordon stepped away again.
Buck struggled to catch his breath, heaving air in and out. He blinked away tears, unwilling to let them see that from him if he could help it. Rough fingers touched his side, examining the burn that had no doubt been left there, and Buck bit back another cry.
He received even less warning for the next torture. A weight pressed down on his hand and then his pointer finger was jerked to an unnatural angle. His middle finger was next, broken like a mere twig. Buck howled and yanked pointlessly on his wrist cuff as his hand was released.
Gordon’s face appeared over him again with a smirk. “You know, if you want this to stop all you have to do is ask,” he mocked. Buck uttered every curse word he knew in a long string of fury, confident he could convey his meaning even with the tape on. But Gordon wasn’t fazed. “No? Then I suppose we’ll continue.”
More rustling happened out of Buck’s vision and it was the anticipation that scared him the most. When Gordon reappeared he was holding a long butcher knife. Buck squirmed about on the table as he was forced to watch Gordon produce a lighter and heat up the blade right in front of his eyes.
The first press of the heated blade on Buck’s bare stomach made him howl, writhing about like a feral animal as his flesh sizzled. The blade was heated up again and once more the flat side was pressed into his skin, this time the soft underside of his arm. Each burn felt like it lasted hours instead of seconds and even when the blade moved away every pain receptor in his body continued to fire at will. The third time his head was harshly held down and the blade pressed against his right cheek.
Buck couldn’t contain it any longer, tears flowing freely as he whimpered and begged for it to stop. He’d do anything, he just wanted the hurt to go away. Ortiz approached him, her face blank as she delicately wiped some of the tears away.
“You know we could get a lot of money for him,” Gordon suggested. “Or parts of him anyway. Big healthy boy like him, people would pay for a kidney, a lung, a heart.” Buck was too raw from his suffering and the thought of yet another person reducing him to spare parts only made him cry harder. Maybe this time when they cut him open he’d actually be able to save someone.
“No,” Ortiz told Gordon, stepping away from Buck. “I have something better in mind for him.” Her nails lightly scratched down the skin of his bad leg, already throbbing from the strain of his struggling and the electricity. “I believe this is the leg that almost stopped you from remaining a firefighter, isn’t it? I suppose we’ll have to finish the job and remove it.” No, no he couldn’t lose his leg. Not after all he’d endured to save it.
But Ortiz wasn’t done. She was back by Buck’s face in an instant, studying him. “These eyes, so striking. Perhaps I’ll keep one for myself and deliver the other to Wilson to send a message. And then-“ She gripped him tightly by the throat. “For my own personal satisfaction we’ll remove his tongue for good measure.”
“I like the way you think,” Gordon said with a chuckle. Buck uttered muffled pleas, fighting with every last bit of strength he had in his battered body to escape this somehow.
“I believe the patient needs to calm down before surgery,” suggested Ortiz.
Gordon dragged over some kind of oxygen mask and strapped it to Buck’s face before he could put up any resistance. There was the squeak of a valve and some kind of anesthesia began to float into his system. Buck tried to hold his breath, his last ditch effort to stay awake.
Ortiz’s hand combed through his hair. “Just relax, Mr. Buckley. It won’t hurt a bit. At least, not until you wake up.”
His head grew fuzzier by the second, muscles weighed down like someone was holding him. The pain began to slip away and it was harder to keep his eyes open. He couldn’t give in, couldn’t let the last thing he saw be this strange room and the people who wanted to hurt him. He wanted his last sight to be a family barbecue at Bobby and Athena’s, surrounded by all the people who loved him. He wanted to share a beer with Eddie and watch the kids play, hear the intoxicating sound of Hen’s laugh.
Hen… he hoped she wouldn’t blame herself for what was about to happen. He’d do it for her again, he’d do it for any of them again.
There was a sudden slam somewhere in the distance. “LAPD, put your hands up!” The voice sounded familiar, safe somehow. Buck was too tired to remember. More noises echoed around him and yet it felt so far away. “Alright, the room is clear bring them in!” the voice shouted.
Hurried footsteps pounded the floor and the mask was suddenly ripped off his face. “Buck! We’re here, Buck!” Buck blinked sluggishly, a blurry face over him that he’d swear wasn’t there before.
“We’ve got numerous burn injuries, a couple broken fingers, and it looks like his dislocated shoulder was aggravated further,” a new familiar voice said.
The tape was removed from Buck’s mouth and he focused in on the single face he saw. “Hen…”
“It’s me Buck,” Hen assured, tears dripping from her cheeks onto his. “We got you now, okay? I’m so sorry she did this to you.”
Ortiz. Did she get away? Were Karen and the kids okay? Buck opened his mouth to speak again, only managing to choke out, “Safe?”
“You’re safe now,” Hen told him. “Everyone’s safe, that woman is not gonna hurt you or anybody again.”
There was so much more he wanted to say, questions he needed answered or comfort he wanted to provide. But was he was lifted off the table and onto something much softer, he couldn’t find it in him to keep his eyes open any longer.
He could rest now. His Hen was here.