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***
Evan Buckley was no stranger to chaos. That didn’t mean he enjoyed waking up to it.
His morning began like thousands before it: alarm blaring, sunlight slicing through blinds, a pair of jeans he swore he didn’t leave on the floor, and the vague ache of too little sleep from a late-night movie he didn’t remember finishing.
He stumbled to the kitchen, poured cereal, and noticed nothing unusual—at least not until his phone buzzed with a text from Maddie.
Maddie: Morning! Don’t forget Mom’s birthday is in two weeks.
Buck frowned.
He could’ve sworn she’d texted that yesterday. He must’ve misremembered. He shrugged it off. He was good at shrugging.
At the firehouse, the team gathered around the kitchen island. Chim burned toast. Hen yelled at him. Eddie walked in wearing the hoodie Buck liked on him—the navy one with the faint grease stain near the hem.
“Morning,” Eddie said with that easy, warm smile that hit Buck somewhere in the chest. Before Buck could answer, the dispatch alarm cut through the station.
“Traffic collision, 110 freeway, multiple vehicles.”
Routine. Basic. A headache, but manageable.
They geared up fast. Eddie slung into his turnout. Buck followed, mentally prepping for worst-case scenarios.
They arrived on scene to find two cars and an overturned sedan. Minor smoke. A trapped driver.
“Buck, with me!” Eddie called out.
And Buck followed—of course he followed.
The rest went smoothly. They cut the seatbelt, stabilized the victim, assisted PD in clearing the shoulder. Buck worked beside Eddie, focused, steady.
Back at the station, he joked with Chim. Ate lunch. Showered. Went home. Fell asleep.
Everything was normal.
Until it wasn’t.
***
Buck woke up and instantly felt wrong.
The angle of sunlight. The cereal box he was sure he put away. The same exact text from Maddie. He blinked at his phone.
Maddie: Morning! Don’t forget Mom’s birthday is in two weeks.
Buck frowned. Hard.
At the station, breakfast played out exactly the same—Hen’s snark, Chim’s burnt toast, the joke about Bobby’s “dad energy.”
But when Eddie walked in wearing the same hoodie and gave the same exact smile, Buck’s stomach twisted.
The dispatch alarm blared.Same wording. Same call.
“Traffic collision, 110 freeway, multiple vehicles.”
Buck froze. Eddie nudged him.
“You coming?”
The call played out step-for-step, like a pre-loaded video. Like déjà vu with a script. Eddie said the same words. The victim cried the same way. A crow flew overhead at the exact same second. Buck swallowed bile.
By the time he fell asleep that night, he was desperate for the loop to break.
It didn’t.
***
Buck started the morning already sweating.
He arrived at the firehouse early. Too early. He sat at the counter, staring into a bowl of cereal like maybe the grains spelled out his doom. Hen walked in first.
“Blink if you’re having an existential crisis.”
Buck blinked three times. Hen paused.
“…Should I call someone?”
Buck shook his head quickly.
“No—no. I just… slept weird.”
Eddie walked in next, concern already etched between his brows. He always noticed Buck’s bad mornings.
“You alright?” Eddie asked quietly, voice low so no one else would hear. Buck tried to lie. Failed.
“I don’t know.”
Eddie’s eyes softened with worry—a look Buck was starting to crave more than he should. But before anything more could happen, the dispatch alarm cut in again, like fate slamming down its fist.
“Traffic collision, 110 freeway—”
Buck nearly screamed.
***
Buck tried to break the pattern. He changed his breakfast. He took a different route to the station. He purposely left later. He swapped chores with Chim. Hell, he even wore mismatched socks hoping chaos would throw the universe off.
Nothing mattered. The loop stayed tight around him, like walls inching closer.
On loop eleven, he sat at breakfast while the team chatted, his head in his hands. Eddie slid into the seat across from him.
“Buck. Seriously. What’s going on?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.” Buck muttered. Eddie leaned forward, clear brown eyes steady.
“Try me.”
Buck wanted to. He really did. But right as he opened his mouth—
The dispatch alarm cut in. Predictable. Torturous.
And Buck watched everything repeat again.
***
Buck cornered Hen after lunch.
“Hypothetically…” he began. Hen froze mid-sip of her coffee.
“Oh boy.”
Buck huffed.
“Hypothetically, if someone was stuck in a time loop—”
Chim popped his head in.
“Hot yoga!”
Hen smacked his shoulder.
“Ignore him.”
Buck ran a hand through his hair.
“Like, I sleep, I wake up, and it’s the same day. Every detail resets. Except me.”
Hen stared at him with narrowed eyes.
“Buck… are you joking?”
Buck’s silence answered her. She softened immediately.
“Okay. Okay. Hypothetically… maybe the universe wants something from you.”
“Like what?” Buck groaned. Chim shrugged.
“Try hot yoga.”
Hen shoved him again.
The rest of the day repeated, like clockwork. The call. The drive home. The moment he fell into bed.
“Please let tomorrow come.” He whispered into the darkness.
Tomorrow didn’t come.
***
By the twenty-seventh loop, Buck was unraveling. Not metaphorically. Actually, visibly falling apart.
At the end of the pileup call, he sat on the curb, elbows on his knees, exhausted. Eddie approached, crouching beside him.
“Talk to me, man.”
Buck’s throat tightened painfully. He wanted to tell Eddie everything. Wanted Eddie to understand. Wanted Eddie to fix it the way he always did—quietly, patiently, with that warmth Buck tried not to fall into.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” Buck whispered.
“Try me,” Eddie said again. Buck broke.
“It’s the same day,” he said, voice cracking.
“Every day. Every time I wake up, it restarts.”
Eddie didn’t laugh. Didn’t argue. Didn’t dismiss him. He studied Buck’s trembling hands, then placed a steady palm on his shoulder.
“Okay,” Eddie said softly.
“Tell me everything.”
Buck did. Eddie listened. And for the first time in twenty-seven loops, Buck felt the crushing isolation loosen.
Even if the day would reset again.
***
Buck tried to change the outcome. He avoided the station entirely. The loop dragged him back anyway. He called out sick. Bobby showed up at his door in the same clothes, delivering the exact same lecture.
He skipped the call. The universe forced him there. Nothing he did prevented the reset.
But in all that frustration, clarity began to seep in—soft, subtle, unavoidable. Why Eddie was always the one he looked for when he panicked. Why Eddie’s voice grounded him faster than anyone else’s. Why Eddie’s concern carved warmth into his ribs instead of embarrassment.
In the normal timeline, Buck could drown those feelings in noise. In the loop? He had no distractions. No escape. No future to hide in. All he had was Eddie. And the more loops passed, the more undeniable the truth became.
He was in love with Eddie.
***
One night, instead of going home to dread the reset, Buck drove to Eddie’s house. Christopher answered the door, eyes bright.
“Buck!”
Warmth spread through Buck’s chest, so sudden it almost hurt.
“Hey, buddy.”
Eddie appeared behind Christopher, surprised.
“It’s… Thursday.”
Buck offered a weak smile.
“I just wanted to see you guys.”
Eddie studied him for a moment, then nodded.
“Come on. Stay for dinner.”
Dinner was simple: chicken, vegetables, and Christopher telling them about a school project. Eddie teased Buck for over-seasoning when he helped in the kitchen. Buck didn’t mind. Eddie smiling at him was worth any amount of teasing.
After dinner, Christopher fell asleep on Buck’s shoulder while watching a movie. Eddie draped a blanket over them both.
Buck felt… whole. Safe. Like maybe the loop wasn’t punishment—maybe it was showing him what mattered.
But when he eventually went home and fell asleep…
The day reset anyway.
***
Buck woke in a cold apartment with the warmth of dinner fading like a dream.
He almost cried.
***
Buck stumbled into the station, pale and exhausted. Before anyone could speak, he muttered:
“Bobby’s gonna walk in fifteen seconds from now.”
Eddie frowned.
“Buck-”
Buck counted down under his breath. On cue, Bobby walked in.
“That’s… actually creepy.” Hen whispered. Buck groaned.
“I’m so done.”
He dropped onto the bench by the lockers, burying his face in his hands. Eddie knelt in front of him.
“Buck. Please. Tell me what you need.”
Buck’s voice cracked open.
“I can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what the universe wants from me!”
Eddie’s expression softened—not pity, but something deeper.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” Eddie said.
“Together.”
Buck’s breath stuttered. He nodded, because that was all he could manage.
When he fell asleep that night, he hoped Eddie’s presence would follow him into tomorrow.
But tomorrow didn’t come.
***
The loop was wearing him down enough that he no longer cared about pretending he wasn’t falling apart.
After the call, Buck stayed sitting near the curb. Exhausted. Hollow. Defeated. Eddie sat beside him—closer than ever before.
“Buck, if this loop is real… what do you think it wants you to figure out?” he murmured. Buck shook his head.
“I don’t know. Fix something? Change something?”
“What?”
Buck met Eddie’s eyes. He saw concern. He saw affection. He saw trust. He saw everything he’d been too scared to name.
“My… feelings,” Buck whispered.
“About you.”
Eddie inhaled sharply.
“Buck… what feelings?”
Buck opened his mouth.
“I’m-”
The world snapped. Everything reset. And the words disappeared into the void.
***
Buck woke up gasping.
But for the first time, he wasn’t scared. He understood. The loop wasn’t testing him. Wasn’t torturing him. Wasn’t trapping him. It was forcing him to face the one thing he kept burying.
He loved Eddie. He had for years.
And every loop was peeling back his excuses, his fears, his denial. Until only the truth remained.
***
Buck walked into the station feeling different. Lighter. Eddie noticed immediately.
“You okay?”
Buck nodded.
“Better than okay.”
Buck explained the loop for what felt like the millionth time. Now, in the quiet of the kitchen, Buck sat across from Eddie.
“There’s something else,” he said. Eddie tensed.
“What?”
Buck exhaled slowly.
“I’ve been living the same day for weeks. Maybe months. And every loop brought me back to the same moment—standing here with you.”
Eddie didn’t interrupt. Didn’t joke. Didn’t dismiss him. Buck continued, voice shaking.
“And I realized what the loop was trying to show me. Every call, every repeat, every moment… I kept coming back to you. To how much you mean to me.”
Eddie’s eyes softened.
“Buck-”
Buck pushed forward.
“I’m in love with you.”
Silence wrapped around them, fragile and shimmering. Then Eddie reached out and took Buck’s hand.
“Evan,” he said softly,
“I love you too.”
Buck’s breath hitched. Eddie squeezed his hand.
“You don’t have to relive anything anymore.”
And then..for the first time in seventy-four loops…
The dispatch alarm didn’t ring.
Time moved forward. The universe exhaled. And Buck laughed, half relieved, half overwhelmed.
“All this time… the loop just wanted me to admit it.”
Eddie’s smile was warm and grounding.
“Sometimes the hardest truths are the ones we already know.”
Buck’s heart felt full to the point of breaking. They sat together, hands still clasped, as the minutes passed—new and unlooped.
Tomorrow was finally coming. And they were walking into it together.
***
Buck woke up in his apartment to sunlight that felt different—soft and new.
His phone didn’t buzz with the same text. His jeans weren’t on the floor. And most importantly-
He remembered yesterday. Every loop. Every realization. Every moment with Eddie. And Eddie’s hand in his.
He dressed quickly and headed to the station, heart pounding.
When he walked in, Eddie met him halfway, smile warm enough to eclipse the sun.
“Morning,” Eddie said.
“Morning,” Buck breathed.
And for the first time in what felt like eternity-
it really was.
***