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BUCK
T-3 HOURS
One day with Isabel. Alone. For the first time ever.
How hard could it be?
Buck loves kids. He’s had enough practice taking care of Chris, Jee, and Robbie alike. In those cases, though, he’s just Buck. Now, he’s someone’s dad.
On a morning like any other, he’s never felt more unprepared.
It’s different when you’re the main person the child depends on to survive. Every decision, every choice, has a consequence.
His own parents always seemed to make the wrong ones under the guise of “protecting him.” Despite the work they’ve put in to make up for those choices, the memories, the trauma, are chiseled into him like etchings on a marble slab.
No matter how hard he tries to forget, they’ll always be a part of him and affect how he navigates the world.
“You two will be fine.” Eddie places a goodbye kiss on Buck’s cheek and then moves to do the same to Isabel, who’s resting in Buck’s arms.
“Are you reassuring yourself or me?”
“Maybe a bit of both.” Eddie readjusts his bag on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m kidding.”
“Great. That makes me feel so great,” Buck huffs. Isabel squirms for a second before falling back asleep. That’s pretty much all she does at this point in her life. She is a very busy girl.
“You are great,” Eddie clarifies. “Oh, and we’re almost out of formula, so if you have time to pick some up that would also be so great.”
“You didn’t pick any up the other day?” Buck asks.
“I figured it would get you two out of the house,” Eddie smirks. Buck adds it to his mental to-do list.
Eddie gives Buck a final look over his shoulder before heading out the door.
“Try and have fun,” Eddie advises. “Love you both!”
“Love you, too,” Buck responds. “Be safe!”
It shuts with a click, and Buck is left standing in the entryway. The cold wood under his feet sends a shiver up and down his spine.
One shift. He can make it through one shift.
Buck glances down at the sleeping Isabel, swaddled in his arms. So small, so innocent. She’s perfect in every way.
“We’ll be fine,” he repeats Eddie’s mantra, trying to believe it for himself. He sets her down to rock in her baby swing while he whips up a quick breakfast. The light playing of lullabies fills the background, and she settles into it easily.
It soothes him all the same.
He always thought parenthood would come to him naturally. While his parents were never the best role models, with Eddie by his side, he felt confident as ever when signing Isabel’s adoption papers. It’s proven to be a little more challenging than Buck thought, though Eddie insists that struggling to adjust to an infant’s schedule is normal.
Is it normal to feel so lost and scared all the time?
The choice to have a child together was not clear-cut. Life in their line of work is terrifyingly unpredictable. Buck saw Eddie work through that guilt with Chris. To ask him to do it all over again didn’t seem fair, so for the majority of their relationship, he avoided the topic altogether.
Which is why it was so surprising when Eddie brought it up first. Granted, they’d only been married for less than a year back then, but it opened up a range of possibilities for the future of their family.
At that time, they decided to be a confident “maybe.”
With a change of the seasons, and many more conversations had, that “maybe” turned into a “yes.”
And now they have the best two kids on the planet. How did they get so lucky?
Before Isabel, they managed to coparent Chris without fail. He’s grown to be the kindest, most independent kid Buck knows, albeit with a sharp tongue from time to time. He’s proud to have had a small part in raising him, but at the end of the day, that’s all it is: a small part.
Eddie will always be his father first, and that’s the difference between Chris and Isabel.
When she’s not asleep, she looks at Buck with big, trusting eyes, cooing and calling for him when she needs something, even if it’s as simple as a kiss goodnight.
It’s different for Eddie. He’s been “Dad” for nearly sixteen years. It’s second nature, easy. When Buck has a question, a concern, or is looking for advice, Eddie’s by his side to answer it all. Buck wouldn’t have it any other way.
Today it’s the other way.
Eddie back in the field, Buck staying home. They’ve agreed to swap shifts during these early months and then, down the line, find a more concrete schedule. Definitely not Buck’s preference, but the LAFD only offers eight weeks of paid leave, and today marks the beginning of week nine.
As he shuffles around the kitchen, he keeps a watchful eye on Isabel. She’s not going anywhere; she can’t even crawl yet, but still, he watches.
He takes a mental note to prepare a big, bountiful breakfast spread for Eddie and Chris this weekend once they’re all back together. For now, he settles on a bowl of cereal and, for Isabel, a bottle.
“Not the microwave,” Eddie’s reminder echoes in his mind.
Buck runs it under warm sink water and tests it against the inside of his wrist. It’s lukewarm, a perfect 98.6°.
It’s not going to burn her. It’s the same as every other bottle he’s prepared. Just because Eddie isn’t here to double-check doesn’t mean it’s not right.
She will be okay.
By the time he joins her in the living room, she’s awake and staring up at him. She cracks a gummy smile at the sight of the bottle, a recently developed habit and one that Buck completely melts into without fail.
“What should we do today?” He scoops her up and bounces her against his chest. Her eyes are glued to the bottle. Buck moves to the couch and gently leans her back to place it in her mouth.
He continues thinking outloud. “We could… binge-watch Bluey?”
Not that she understands a single word of what they’re saying, but they can watch it for educational purposes.
Buck loves the show.
Isabel squirms and pushes the bottle out of her face—a very simple, but effective way to say no. He sets it on the coffee table.
“Alright, baby girl.” He brings her to rest against his shoulder and pats her back. “You know the drill.”
He hums to her and continues to tap his hand in rhythm. It doesn’t take long for her to spit up, and Buck’s job is successfully completed.
At least, he thinks it is.
Isabel pushes up with her hand and stares through him.
Oh, no. He knows that look.
With a big inhale, her cheeks grow red, and she starts to wail. It’s scratchy, loud, and high-pitched right next to Buck’s ear.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he coos, trying to conceal his panic. “What is it? What do you need?”
His questions are pointless. It’s frustrating when she can't communicate what’s wrong. If he knew, he could fix it in an instant. She’s rested, fed, and recently changed. Those are the first three checkpoints, and Buck navigated them with ease.
What is he doing wrong?
His phone rests in his back pocket. It would be so easy to call Eddie, or even Maddie, for help. He hates that he’s considering it, hates that he can’t handle one tantrum on his own.
Buck wipes the tears from her cheek, but two more come down in their place.
“I’m here. You’re okay, baby,” he continues.
He tries the baby swing, but the second she’s out of his arms, her screams intensify. She coughs through each sob, and it sounds like choking.
She’s not choking. She’s just crying.
Eddie’s been gone for what? An hour?
Come home. I’m not ready for this. I need you by my side, he wants to text.
It’s not a fair request, so Buck doesn’t make it.
He gives the bottle another attempt, same result. He falls back into his rotation of funny faces, a sure-fire solution that has worked time and time again. Not even an acknowledgement.
Music, toys, nothing seems to calm her down.
A buzz in his pocket interrupts Isabel’s screams.
Eddie: All good? I already miss that little face.
Buck looks at the text, then at Isabel, then back at the text.
Buck: Fine here!
When has Buck ever said, “Fine here”?
Buck: Don’t worry about us.
Isabel flails in his arms.
Eddie: I’m here if you need me.
But he’s not. He’s at work, exactly where he’s supposed to be. Millions of people around the world raise kids and work at the same time, and millions of others raise children entirely on their own, Eddie included.
Buck likes the message.
He’s tried everything. What more could Isabel want—
“Dada?” He questions. “You want Dada?”
Something registers in her eyes, but she doesn’t miss a beat with the next set of tears.
He shows her his screensaver: a photo of Eddie and Chris in the hospital the day Isabel was born.
Like magic, she stops. It really doesn’t surprise him. He likes looking at pictures of Eddie, too.
Buck relaxes into the couch, keeping his phone directed at Isabel. She presses her hands together and apart, fingers pointed towards each other.
More.
“He’ll be home first thing tomorrow. Chris, too,” he explains. “But for today it’s you and me, kid.”
Maybe she senses Buck’s unease, because his words are enough to settle her completely. Once he’s sure she’s done crying, he shoves the phone back into his pocket.
“How about we get out of this house?” He smiles and brushes her few strands of hair back. She gives him an agreeable babble, and the plans are set.
T-1 HOUR
The park proves to be a success.
It’s a beautiful day. Similar to almost every other day in Los Angeles, the sun shines through a picturesque, blue, cloudless sky, and there’s a slight breeze to combat the heat.
Buck finds a shady spot under a row of trees for them to spread out on the grass. Just him and his little girl out for a picnic.
Now that she’s calmed down, this whole “solo-Dad” thing isn’t so bad. He wishes Eddie were here to see how cute she looks in her knit-strawberry hat and pink onesie.
“Smile for Dada!” Buck snaps a selfie of the two of them and sends it Eddie’s way. It must be qu—slow at the firehouse today because he responds almost instantly.
Eddie: My favorites <3
Buck: Hope you’re having a fun day, too! We miss you.
Buck rests on his back, Isabel tucked at his side with his arm around her. Her head nuzzles under his shoulder. Together, they swipe through photos on his phone. The best way to keep her calm, he figures.
An outburst in the privacy of their own home was stressful enough.
Isabel reacts to each photo, smiling and attempting to laugh, though she hasn’t quite figured it out yet. The effect it has on Buck is the same. He’s happy to make her happy.
There’s one of Eddie and Chris at the firehouse during his first ride-along, Eddie’s 30th birthday party (Buck’s 31st, he rolls his eyes), photos from their wedding and honeymoon, and others with Maddie, Chim, and the cousins. Everything.
Crazy how far away the life before Isabel seems, despite being only eight short weeks ago.
“One day, I’ll tell you the story about the firefighter auction,” he whispers. “That’s when everything changed.” He places a kiss on her head and continues through his “Eddie <3” collection.
It doesn’t take long for her eyes to drift closed, and Buck’s follow shortly after.
He wakes to the sound of a screeching bird somewhere overhead. Isabel jolts awake, frightened by the sudden loud noise.
There’s that look again.
“Shhh,” he’s quick to soothe her. Buck sits up and brings her in tight, covering her ears. She lets out a few sobs before quieting down again.
“Try again! You almost hit it!” An unknown voice comes from behind him. It belongs to a kid, about Chris’s age. He hands his friend a rock, and without hesitation, the second kid throws it up at the tree.
The bird screeches again but doesn’t fly away. It’s perched in its nest, tied to the duty of protecting its eggs.
“Hey! Stop!” Buck shouts at them, gesturing up to the tree.
He catches them offguard, but instead of stopping, they laugh and launch another rock through the air. This one hits the bullseye and sends the bird tumbling to the ground. It doesn’t have time to catch itself and fly back up. The boys load up another set of ammo for their next target.
The bird cries out as it falls, and Isabel picks up her crying again. Buck rests her down in the stroller and gives her her favorite plushie, but it's no use. Like before, she’s completely distraught, and Buck can’t seem to calm her down.
“Stupid bird!” The kids cheer and high-five.
Buck marches over to them, pushing the stroller. Isabel’s cries draw attention from not only the boys but every other park-goer in the area. Buck’s face flushes red, the anger and embarrassment mixing inside him.
“I told you to stop,” he warns.
“Dude, it’s a bird,” the first kid shrugs.
“We were just having fun,” the second adds.
Buck grabs the rock out of his hands and tosses it out of reach. “Fun is riding a skateboard o-or playing video games. Hurting innocent, defenseless animals is not fun.”
They’re speechless, mouths open agape as they stare at Buck, then the crying Isabel, then the struggling bird on the grass next to them.
Without another word, they take off, and Buck is left in their dust.
The bird manages to flip over, uninjured for the most part, and flies back up to its nest. Buck brings himself around the front of the stroller and consoles Isabel.
“See, baby. It’s okay.” He points up into the thick branches. Isabel’s eyes are puffy and red; tears stream out of the sides like a raging river.
Buck thinks and pulls out his phone. “Look! Dada!”
He bites his tongue back in silent prayer. It worked last time.
Isabel thrashes back and forth and smacks his phone out of his hand. It hits the side of the stroller before falling into the glass. When he picks it up, there’s a major crack stretching from one corner to the other.
He sighs, the defeat steaming off him with the L.A. heat. “Let’s get you home.”
Buck packs up the stroller. At least Isabel managed to finish her bottle. She’ll probably need another in a few hours, but they’re almost out of formula.
“Do you think you’re okay to run a quick errand with me?” He asks. “It’ll make Dada very happy.”
Isabel’s lips quiver through the sobs. She stares up at Buck through her browbone, eyes swollen and cheeks soaked.
It won’t take long. The store’s on the way home, anyway. Maybe they’ll detour through the toy aisle, and that’ll calm her down.
He hopes.
Eddie: Only 21 hours to go!
EDDIE
T-3 HOURS
“Be safe.” Eddie never truly knew the power those two words could hold until he had everything to lose.
He’s been through his share of near-death experiences, each scarier and closer to death than the last. In the depths of his subconscious, he always felt like he deserved what was coming to him. The pain, the misery, became as embedded in his life as water and air.
Moving to L.A. and becoming a firefighter gave him the opportunity to repent his poor life choices. The heroism of it all never appealed to him in the way it did for so many others. The job wasn’t important because he saved lives; it was important because it reminded him of the fragility of his own.
But with Buck, Christopher, and now Isabel expecting him to come home at the end of every shift, work feels more insignificant than ever.
Two people counting on him? Not exactly easy, but also not foreign to him. In the army, he had Shannon and Christopher praying for his safe return. Then, it was Buck and Christopher.
Three people counting on him? His husband, his now young-adult son, and his baby girl. It makes getting through this shift look like an impossible task.
“Welcome back, Diaz,” Chim’s the first to greet him. Ravi and Hen aren’t far behind, and before the clock strikes nine, he finds himself in his usual seat next to Bobby for breakfast.
“We missed you here,” Bobby starts, passing out plates and silverware down the line. “And Buck, of course.”
Bobby made all his favorites, typical. A small part of his heart breaks because it's not Buck’s infamous pancakes, but it’ll have to do.
“I missed you guys, too,” Eddie says through his first bite.
“You don’t have to lie,” Hen chuckles. “We all know how tough this is.”
“Not all of us,” Ravi corrects.
The jokes and banter continue, but pass in and out of Eddie’s ears in a haze of noise.
What’s Buck doing? Did he heat the formula correctly? Did he burp her the way she likes, with a cupped hand rather than a flat palm?
Shit, did Eddie remember to wash the towels beforehand?
Is Isabel laughing? Crawling? Talking?
Ridiculous thoughts, she’s only two months old, but he can’t fathom the idea of missing so many firsts because he’s stuck at work.
Eddie: All good? I already miss that little face.
It’s not that he doesn’t trust Buck, because he does with his whole heart. Before Isabel, Buck was the person—the only person—he trusted with Christopher more than himself.
Eddie refuses to be absent the way he was for Christopher’s early life. Back then, he didn’t see any other option. Join the army, provide for the family, just like his father taught him.
But Eddie Diaz is not his father.
He managed to be there for Christopher before it was too late, but only because Shannon left him. With Isabel, he has the choice to stay and watch her grow up, and despite that, he chose to return to work.
Eight weeks passed in what feels like a second. What happens when they hit six months and then a year?
How much of her life is he willing to miss?
Buck: Fine here!
He’s absolutely not fine.
Buck: Don’t worry about us.
She’s definitely throwing a tantrum right now.
Buck can handle it. He’s handled much worse, but Eddie wishes they were at each other’s side to handle it together and bring back the smile to Isabel’s rosy-pink cheeks.
“That Buck?” Bobby catches Eddie. There’s a strict no-phone policy at 118 meals, which never used to be a problem for Eddie when his family quite literally sat across from him.
Eddie: I’m here if you need me.
He sends it quickly, a part of him hoping Buck gives him permission to come home.
“Yeah, sorry,” he apologizes.
Bobby smiles and gives him a comforting pat on the shoulder. “It’s alright. You’re allowed to check in.”
“I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a lot harder than I expected it to be.”
“I wish I could say it gets easier,” Chim pipes in.
Eddie looks to Bobby, then Chim and Hen. Three great examples of parents who have perfected sacrificing time with their families without tarnishing their relationships.
“How do you all do it?” He asks. “With Christopher…I don’t know, it was different.”
“It’s not an exact science,” Hen answers. “It took Karen and me a lot of trial and error to figure out what worked best for us.”
“And it’s also not fair to put everything on one parent,” Chim continues. “I learned that the hard way.”
Which is exactly what Eddie’s doing now, abandoning Buck.
“I think what they’re both trying to say is communication is key,” Bobby concludes.
Eddie scoffs. “That’s pretty cliché, Cap, even for you.”
“Maybe there’s a reason it’s cliché.” Bobby raises a knowing brow.
The alarm interrupts the back half of breakfast.
Eddie rubs his Saint Christopher pendant before hopping into the firetruck. For today, and all the days to follow, he promises himself to be more cautious than ever.
Be safe for the sake of your family.
T-1 HOUR
They’re wrapping up a call when Eddie’s heart melts. The cutest picture of Isabel and Buck at the park, smiles wide on their faces, lights up on his phone.
It seems like they’re having a great day, and Buck has yet to admit he’s struggling, so as far as Eddie’s concerned, he’s not.
At least they’re not at the pier, Eddie snickers.
Eddie: My favorites <3
If Buck continues to text and send pictures, this work/life balance thing might just work out. When they’re not on calls, they can FaceTime and catch up on all of Isabel’s new habits.
And it’s an excuse for Eddie to check in on the one who matters most: Buck.
This can’t be any easier for him, and when the roles are reversed and Buck returns to work, Eddie knows he’ll struggle with the separation all the same. Best they work out the kinks now.
Buck: Hope you’re having a fun day, too! We miss you.
I miss you, too.
“Unit 118, head out, we’ve got another call!” Bobby sends Chim to the hospital and requests another RA unit to follow them to the next scene.
“What’re we looking at here?” Eddie asks from the back of the truck.
“Residential roof collapse. Caller said her Dad’s trapped below the rubble but still talking,” Bobby explains.
Roof collapse is an understatement. The whole side of the house looks like it's sliding off itself. Rubble and dust surround the area, and there are barely any signs of life.
A distant call of “Help!” directs them to the caller, who they soon learn is a young woman named Ciera.
“It’s my dad!” Ciera waves them over. “I-I just got home, and the whole thing collapsed right in front of me.”
“What is your father’s name and where is he now?” Bobby inquires.
“Tyson. H-He was talking a second ago from somewhere over there, but he stopped.” She points over to the back corner of the house. “What does that mean? Why did he stop? Is he going to be okay? I-I shouldn’t have left him alone. I was only gone for an hour, maybe two. I thought he’d be fine.” She’s panicking now. Tears stream down her face and fall to the black pavement below.
Hen pulls her aside for assessment and consoles her without making promises she knows they can’t keep.
“Someone has to get in there, Cap,” Eddie says, reality hitting him square in the face.
Bobby assesses the situation. “I send someone in there, the whole place could collapse.”
“We could use the truck to pull some of the rubble away?” Ravi offers.
“Same issue, and we don’t know the extent of Tyson’s injuries.”
Ciera sits between the back doors of the ambulance, eyes lost in a daze. It’s warm out, but she shivers into the rescue blanket and works through choppy breaths. There’s nothing for her to do but sit and wait.
Eddie counters. “Bobby, it’s like the earthquake.”
“I can’t ask you—either of you—to go in there.”
“So don’t ask. Just give me the okay, and I’ll do it,” Eddie insists.
“No, I’ll go,” Ravi cuts in. “Eddie, you’ve got a kid…”
“And I had one before.” Eddie turns back to face Bobby. “I'd hope if it were my kid who called 9-1-1, the person whose job it is to save someone they love would do it. I’ve done this before, I can do it again.”
To Bobby’s dismay, Eddie’s argument is compelling, and before he knows it, he’s breaking through the first layer of rubble to carve out a path to Ciera’s father. The structure isn’t as weak as expected, and he’s able to reach Tyson relatively quickly.
That’s the easy part. Retracing his steps is going to be tricky with two people and the backboard.
The air is thick, and the heat sticks to Eddie’s body. He kneels at Tyson’s side, keeping his head low to avoid bumping any load-bearing pieces of the roof.
“Cap, he’s alert and aware. Several surface-level injuries, but full movement in fingers and toes. Prepping for extraction now,” he says through the radio.
“We were able to stabilize your route back,” Bobby returns. “Be safe, Eddie.” Those two words, again.
He thinks of Buck and Isabel at the park, enjoying each other's company. Christopher, who’s become a man in his own right but still expects his dads to wait up for him after the sun goes down and the streetlights begin to glow.
Eddie slides Tyson onto the backboard and adjusts his position to push it ahead of him.
“No one’s losing their dad today,” he assures Tyson, digging his knees into the ground for leverage to begin the journey back.
“You have kids?” Tyson asks through a painful grunt.
“Two,” Eddie mutters with another push. “A teenage boy and a baby girl.”
“You’ve got your hands full,” he chuckles. “I just have Ciera. What’re their names?”
“Christopher and Isabel.”
The C-collar around his neck restricts his movement, but he manages a nod. “I bet you’re a great dad.”
“I try,” Eddie says, guilt concealed under his determination to get them out. Tyson sniffs it out.
“Don’t we all,” Tyson sighs. “Kids tend to forgive us, even if it takes them a while. I never thought I’d see the day when my little girl is taking care of me.”
Before Eddie can respond, Bobby’s voice reaches them from the end of the tunnel. “Eddie, we see you.”
They emerge from the darkness and are met with fresh air and a cool breeze. Hen and Ravi transfer Tyson to the gurney, but not before Ciera rushes to his side.
She rubs his hand, her sobs now turned to tears of relief.
Eddie comes up to his feet and dusts off his pants from where his knees dragged through the rubble.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Ciera pulls back from her dad and throws her arms around Eddie. It forces him to take a step back. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Thank you!”
Eddie eyes Bobby over her shoulder. His lips are pressed together, and he gives Eddie a nod of approval.
They pack Tyson and Ciera into the ambulance and watch as they drive off, injured but stable. That’s all you can hope for after a tragedy like this.
Eddie: Only 21 hours to go!
It can’t come any sooner.
T-2 MINUTES
The alarm goes off the second they return to the firehouse.
“Did someone say the Q-word or something?” Chim jokes.
Hen rolls her eyes. “Don’t test our luck.”
Like clockwork, they’re back on the road. The Q-word jinx is ridiculous, and Eddie doesn’t believe in it. If he did believe in it, and if someone did say the Q-word, he’s happy they chose today of all days.
The calls make the shift fly by, so the more calls, the faster he gets to go home.
Not that he’s wishing anyone ill will. Calls don’t necessarily mean emergencies, and besides the house collapse, the rest of the day has been relatively minor injuries. Quick and simple.
He bites his tongue when they pull into the Howie’s Market parking lot and see it engulfed in flames and people fleeing for their lives.
Definitely not minor. It never is at this place.
“Eddie, Ravi on the lines. Chim and Hen start assessments,” Bobby orders. “I’m going in to pull out any stragglers.”
Bobby’s not letting Eddie put himself on the front lines any more than he already has. Of course, he reserves that responsibility for himself.
They fan out in between the crowd of people covered in soot. With Ravi at his side, they get the water going to kill the high flames.
Bobby disappears through the smoke.
“Howie!” Eddie recognizes the shop owner as he runs by. “How’d the fire start?”
“Some guy,” Howie coughs. “He went crazy and smashed through the alcohol aisle. H-He had a lighter…”
“Thank you,” Eddie replies. “There are medics over there to help.” Howie rushes over to meet Hen.
“Not a constant source,” Ravi shrugs. “That’s a good sign.”
Eddie directs the water through the window into the center of the store. “Old building, though. It could go down quick.”
“Bobby, what’s your status?” Eddie squeezes his radio.
Static. He and Ravi share a look of concern.
Off in the distance, a baby’s cry adds to the chaos around them.
“Captain Nash, what’s your—”
Wait, Eddie knows that cry. He’s woken up to that cry in the middle of the night. He’s lulled that cry and turned it into a satisfied babble more times than he can count.
“Isabel?” He mumbles under his breath, still unbelieving. Then, she’s there. His baby is in the arms of a stranger, just across the parking lot from him. He drops the hose to the ground, and the water sprays in every direction.
Memories of finding Christopher after the tsunami crash into the forefront of his mind.
“Isabel!” Eddie shouts. He takes her in his arms in an instant. The stranger releases her grip, recognizing the terror shaking through him.
He braces Isabel’s head against his chest and soothes her until her cries subside. She’s okay.
“How…?” Eddie can’t find the words. If she’s here…where’s Buck? Where’s Buck? Where’s Buck? He scouts the woman for answers.
“Her dad saved us,” she gestures to the other victims.
Saved them? Or sacrificed himself?
Eddie’s knees weaken with the thought, threatening to send him to the ground. He hoists himself upright with Isabel clinging to his turnout. “Where is he? How did you get her? Where is he?”
His tongue moves faster than his brain can process, rattling off nonsensical questions. His throat goes dry, voice raspy. Isabel lifts her head and smiles at the sight of Eddie. For the first time in her life, he can’t return the gesture.
“He passed her off to me when we got out, but he went back in to look for others.”
Of course he did. Buck’s drive to save lives is one bullet point on an endless list of things Eddie loves about him, but right now, it’s the source of all his worry.
Buck isn’t stupid. He won’t let himself get killed. Those thoughts grow quiet against the anxiety-inducing, life-altering one: He’s dead.
Eddie flips back around to look at the remnants of the market. Ravi finished off the flames, leaving only wet wood and muddy debris in its wake.
He tries the radio again. “Bobby, where the hell are you?” Eddie lets the fear slip through his words.
“Right in front of you,” Buck—not Bobby—cuts through the radio static. They appear a moment later, both upright but using the other as leverage as they break through the black smoke.
It’s as if the world starts to turn again.
Eddie throws his helmet to the ground and bolts over to meet his husband in a desperate embrace. His free hand claws into Buck’s back. He can feel his heart beating. If his heart’s beating, he’s alive.
He’s alive.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Eddie frantically scans him up and down.
Buck grabs Eddie’s face, thumbs brushing across his cheeks. The air returns to his lungs, his heart settles back into its cavity, and he feels the ground beneath his feet. “I’m fine.”
Eddie meets Buck’s eyes. He could place them in a lineup. The eyes of the man he fell in love with, the eyes of his soulmate, his best friend, his husband, and the father of their kids.
Ten seconds ago, Eddie thought he’d never look into them again.
With Isabel between them, Buck kisses him hard and fast. I’m here. We’re safe.
“I thought you were at the park,” Eddie questions once the world pulls back into focus. With Bobby close behind, they head back across the lot to join the rest of the 118.
“We stopped to pick up more formula, and things got,” Buck pauses and releases a deep exhale, “a little out of hand.”
Eddie stops in his tracks. He didn’t pick up the formula when he was supposed to, and he made a weak excuse for forgetting it. He practically placed his husband and baby inside that burning building. This is his fault.
Isabel sleeps against his chest, resting, but he could easily be holding her corpse instead.
It takes Buck a few steps to notice Eddie stuck in his stance behind him. “Whoa,” he rushes back to Eddie. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Eddie’s thoughts continue to race. He could’ve lost them both. He could’ve gone off to work and come home to an empty house. Christopher could’ve lost another parent and half of their family in one fell swoop.
“Blame yourself,” Buck finishes.
Eddie starts the lie. “I wasn’t—”
“I know you. I know how that crazy, beautiful mind of yours works. This is not your fault.” Buck rubs his thumb against the back of Eddie’s hand. “It’s mine.”
“No,” Eddie says sternly. This is his cross to bear, his blame to carry. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it's that this is not Buck’s fault. “I was the one who forgot the formula.”
“I don’t care about the formula. I stopped here as an afterthought,” Buck begins. “We only left the park because she threw a tantrum, and I couldn’t calm her down. I couldn’t be there for her when she needed me most. ”
“What?” Eddie’s the one who left them alone, who physically wasn’t there to support either of them during such a fragile part of life. He went to work, and this was the result.
“I failed her, Eddie.” Buck’s eyes grown red around the edges. “I-I’m sorry.”
“You’re kidding, right?” But Eddie knows he’s not. He can see it in his shaky fingers and rapid chest movement. “Buck, you didn’t fail her. Look around. You saved her! Just like you saved Christopher at the pier and me after I was shot.”
Buck’s eyes shift. It’s a look Eddie never tires of: recognition, comfort, love.
Trust.
“We missed you so much today. I missed you,” Buck admits, finally giving in and letting the tears fall.
“I missed you, too.” Eddie moves his hand to Buck’s shoulder. “And as much as it terrifies me to know you’d run headfirst into a burning building, it’s that same fight and passion that reassures me of our choice to raise this perfect little girl…together.”
Bobby stifles a laugh from behind them. Eddie flashes him a look and shoos him away.
I guess the phrase “be safe” doesn’t really apply to the Buckley-Diaz household.
“She is pretty perfect, isn’t she?” Buck snorts. His shoulders relax into Eddie’s touch. “Promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“Promise me you won’t blame yourself for things you can’t control,” Buck asserts.
“Buck…”
He brings a finger to Eddie’s lips to shut him up. “You weren’t the one with the lighter. You didn’t start the fire. You didn’t force us to come to this store. This is not your fault,” Buck states.
“Only if you promise to do the same,” Eddie retorts. Buck wipes his eyes clear and cracks an agreeing smile. “Everything you said applies to you, too.”
“Say it with me…” Buck entices.
“This is not my fault,” Eddie caves and actually starts to believe it.
“This is not my fault,” Buck says with him. “Great! Glad we agree.” He takes Isabel from Eddie and rocks her slowly.
Eddie’s eyes soften at the sight of his whole world holding the center of his universe.
Buck makes a silly face, and Isabel laughs. Not babbles, not coos, laughs.
A from-the-belly, full of joy, laugh.
“I think we’re going to be o…kay,” Buck declares. “Go back to work, Eddie.”
“Are you sure?” His gaze doesn’t drift from Isabel’s gleeful face.
“Only if you are.”
And he is. He’s sure of his choice to finish the shift and the shift after that, knowing his family will be waiting for him on the other side.
T+2 DAYS
Eddie wakes to an aroma of smells sifting through the door. He rolls out of bed, expecting to find a crying Isabel in her bassinet, but the silence surprises him.
She’s not there.
As far as he’s concerned, she did not learn to crawl or walk in the last two days, so there’s only one plausible explanation for her absence.
He saunters down the hallway, and the smell sharpens with each step toward the kitchen. Christopher pops out of his room at the same time.
“Good morning,” Eddie greets him. “Surprised you slept in this long.”
“It’s Saturday, Dad,” he jests, that familiar sass slipping through. Eddie wraps his arm around him and nuzzles his fist into his curls.
They turn the corner to the dining room, and Buck appears seemingly out of nowhere to stop them from going any further.
“I’m not done yet,” he huffs and slips back into the kitchen.
“Can I see our daughter at least?” Eddie calls after him.
“No! Stay there!” Buck shouts back. “She’s the best sous chef.”
“I thought that was me,” Christopher joins in. “She doesn’t even eat real food!”
She’s got plenty of formula, though, Eddie thinks. He made sure to stock their supply after he finished the shift. No more desperate grocery runs. Not if he can help it.
Pots and pans clang together from the other side of the kitchen door. Eddie cringes at the sound and braces for impact.
On cue, Isabel starts to cry.
Understandable. Eddie shares her aversion to loud, unexpected noises.
He ignores Buck’s instruction to stay put and enters the kitchen. It’s a mess, which is not unusual under Buck’s command. As long as the food is good (which it always is), Eddie doesn’t mind the cleanup.
Buck’s covered in every substance imaginable, but despite the chaos, he picks up Isabel and shushes her, whispering, “I know it was scary, but it’s over now. It’s okay.”
With his calm demeanor and reassuring words, she sniffles through one final sob and stops.
“Do you want to take her?” Buck eyes Eddie, bouncing Isabel with his whole body.
“No, I think you’ve got this.”
Eddie and Christopher set the table, and Buck joins them shortly after. He slides Isabel into her highchair with a freshly prepared bottle. She sits quietly, watching all of them intently with big, hazel eyes that fill her entire face.
She can’t contribute to the conversation verbally, but her impact doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Morning, sweetie.” Eddie kisses the top of her head.
“Good mornnnning, Izzy,” Christopher badgers. She smiles at the acknowledgement.
Buck bursts back into the dining room with plates and plates of food lined across his arms.
“I’ve got blueberry pancakes, chocolate pancakes, protein pancakes.” He side-eyes Eddie. “Bacon, American and Canadian, home fries, hash browns, and scrambled eggs.”
“Was anything left on the farm?” Christopher quips.
Eddie hates to amuse him, but he can’t help but choke on his orange juice. Buck sets everything down on the table.
“It looks great, Buck,” Eddie says with a hard swallow.
“Thank you.” Buck gives a chauvinistic bow and kisses Eddie on the way up. “At least someone in this family appreciates my hard work and effort.”
Christopher’s too busy stuffing his face to provide a comeback.
Buck takes his usual seat next to Eddie. Before taking his first bite, he asks, “What’s this I hear about you crawling through a collapsed building at your own election?”
Bobby.
Eddie has half a bite of protein pancake in his mouth. “I was being safe,” he winks, finishing it off.
“I don’t doubt it,” Buck simpers, cutting into his own chocolate pancake.
Eddie points his fork at Christopher, then Isabel. “Plus, you know I have a soft spot for dads and their kids.”
“I know you do,” Buck adds earnestly. “I trust you.”
Those three words are enough.
They eat, jest, and bicker, like any family would. Eddie takes it all in, knowing life’s impracticability is what makes moments like these worth fighting for. Buck understands it in the same light.
Mistakes—slip-ups—happen. Choices have consequences, but consequences are results, not definitely positive or negative. It’s up to them to decide how they react to those results.
When you have people around you to pull you out of a burning building or a collapsed structure, when you give your all to those you love, knowing they’ll give their all in return, it makes the tough parts of life all the easier to overcome.