The early morning air had a way of clearing Bucks head. Whether he'd had a nightmare or just had too much restless energy from a rough day on the job, a run helped him refresh for the day. It was five in the morning, and with his headphones in, Buck felt the rushing exhilaration of being the only person in the world. Sure, he got lonely sometimes. Everyone did. But that was in the silence of his apartment, when he was too tired to function and no one was there to welcome him home. The loneliness of a run was something he chose, something done on purpose. He liked this loneliness.

He liked changing where he ran too, to keep it interesting, to keep him from growing complacent. If he zoned out too much from familiarity, his mind might wander and ruin the effect of the exercise. That morning, his run took him down a street he'd seen before, but only through the windows of a fire truck.

A week prior, they'd responded to a call for a fire that had burnt out half a street of houses before help arrived. They'd lost the majority of four homes, their structures badly damaged and all possessions inside destroyed. In the week since, Buck noticed that only one home was being worked on by construction vehicles, and at five am there were no workers in sight. He wondered how long it would take for the homes to be rebuilt and if the same families would move back in. Perhaps some part of him had chosen this route to do a damage check, though there was nothing he could do about it.

The song in his earbuds faded out and he jogged to a stop, catching his breath. He'd run far enough. It was time to return home. His shift started in two hours and he needed a shower badly.

He pulled out his phone to change the playlist, but then he stopped the music entirely. He thought he heard...

Buck glanced around. Had he heard-?

A sound to his left drew his attention again. It sounded like a kid crying, but it was coming from one of the abandoned houses. He stepped closer, careful of debris in the driveway and yard. What kid would be playing in a burnt out house?

He followed the noise into the crumbled entryway, aware of every sag of the wooden boards beneath his feet. It was too dangerous to go very far in. This house had a basement, unlike most in southern California, and the wooden floorboards of the living room had exposed it to the surface, leaving a large hole in the floor. The basement had also been the source of the blaze that had engulfed the street, so this house had the worst of all the destruction.

"Hello?" He called out, hoping the kid was as close as they sounded. Were they hiding behind a portion of the remaining wall? Just out of sight?

"H-help?" The tiny voice sounded unsure, probably doubting they'd heard Buck's voice as much as he'd been doubting the crying.

He didn't doubt anymore. There was a kid in here. A girl.

"Hey this house isn't safe. You need to come out. Where are you?" He asked, taking a careful step further in. The hardwood floor creaked and he winced.

"I-in the hole," the girl sobbed. "I c-can't get out."

Cursing inwardly, Buck spread his weight and approached the center of the living room, where the floor had collapsed during the blaze. Peeking over the edge, he felt his breath catch. A small girl, probably no older than eight, was sitting on the floor in the basement, her clothes and skin covered in soot and a little bit of dark red on her forehead - dried blood?

"Hey," Buck greeted, trying for calm and missing by a mile. "Hey are you hurt?"

She sobbed again, nodding. "Ankle," she said.

When she showed him, Buck didn't notice any punctured skin or large bruises, so he doubted it was broken. Sprained? He glanced around the basement for something that could help and frowned. There wasn't much left.

"Hey, see that filling cabinet over there? Yeah. That's it," he said when the girl turned to look. "Think you can climb onto it? I'll try to come over and pull you out. Okay?"

Still sniffling, the girl slowly crawled her way over, then pulled herself to her feet using the handles on the drawers. Buck, careful of the broken edges of the hole, shuffled around to the matching side. Adrenaline was building in him, encouraging his urge to save this girl, this innocent bystander caught in a bad situation.

"How'd you get down there?" Buck asked as he pushed some debris away with his foot.

"Dog," the girl answered, trying to climb up the cabinet, cautiously using the small handles as steps. She was still crying, but not as strongly. "Some mean kids chased me and then their dog tried to bite me. I just ran. Then I tried to hide in here but the floor fell and no one came when I cried."

So close, Buck thought, trying to figure out how was the best way to grab her. "I came," he pointed out. "I heard you crying and I'm gonna get you outta here. Trust me. I'm a fireman."

Distribute the weight, he thought and slowly lowered himself to his knees then lower until he was laying on his stomach. He'd have to deadlift her. It wasn't gonna be easy, but he had no equipment and there was no furniture around to help. He knew from the week before that the stairwell was not an option. It had burned down with the rest of it. Deadlifting was the only way.

"What's your name?" He asked, trying to quiet the girl's tears.

"Ginny." She almost slipped off the metal but caught herself.

"My name is Buck."

"Buck?"

He smiled, though she wasn't looking. "Yeah. And if you say it real fast, you'll sound like a chicken. Funny, right?"

She laughed slightly, then sniffled again. She'd made it on top of the cabinet and finally looked up at Buck. Her lip quivered. "It's too far. You can't pull me up."

"Yes I can." Buck sounded as sure as he ever had. He grinned down at her and reached over the edge, careful of the more jagged pieces. "Reach up and I'll pull you out."

Ginny sniffed and rubbed her eyes. Reach up, Buck urged inwardly. He didn't like being on this floor, but he couldn't just leave her. She just had to reach for him.

Finally the girl nodded and raised both hands into the air. Buck snagged one as soon as it was within reach.

"Alright, just hold onto me tight, okay?" He waited until she nodded. "Okay. Here we go."

He pulled as hard as he could, her weight hanging in the air. God, she had to be fifty pounds. When her feet left the cabinet, she screamed in fear, but she didn't squirm or let go. Good. Just a little further. He grabbed her other arm with his free hand and wrenched upwards. Her tiny hands clenched around him until she came even with the edge of the hole, then she grabbed onto it and tried to help pull.

Buck raised off the floor, hearing the boards creak in protest, and kept pulling until he was nearly back on his knees again, but Ginny was also scrambling up onto the wood.

She was crying again as soon as she got her feet under her. Buck sagged, dropping onto his butt and feeling the way his arms throbbed in complaint. But she was out. He let out a sigh of relief and then she was clinging to him, sobbing into his chest.

"Thank you!" She wailed, and Buck pat her gently on the back. He loved Christopher but he didn't know this girl. He didn't want to cross a line somewhere.

"You're safe now. Let's get you out of here and to a hospital to check you out, okay?" Buck asked, looking down into her watery eyes.

She sniffed and nodded. That's when Buck felt the crack. He sucked in a breath and quickly shoved Ginny away. She flew back, but he didn't see her land. He hoped it was far enough back, because the floor beneath him had collapsed and it would be pointless if she fell with him.

It would be pointless.

And then he blacked out.

It was unusual for Evan Buckley to be late for work. The job was his life. He didn't even call out when he was sick, preferring to drug himself with medication until he was functional. On the same note, he was rarely ill. So when he failed to turn up on time, everyone noticed. Eddie called him when he was five minutes overdue, and frowned when it rang and rang and rang and rang and – "Hey, this is Buck. If I missed your call, I'm probably sleeping or –"

Eddie hung up, nerves twisting in his gut. Late for work and not answering his phone? Maybe he was driving and almost to the station, so it was pointless to waste time answering the phone. He nodded to himself, and slipped his phone away. That was the answer. Nothing serious. He was worrying too much.

"Anyone heard from Buckley?" Bobby asked, trying to sound professional and not like he was worried. "Chim? Eddie?"

"No, sir. Maddie didn't say anything to me," Chimney answered, pausing in his attempts to tighten his boots. Hen helpfully pointed out that the strings were lopsided, causing him to try all over again with a groan.

Eddie frowned. "No, Captain. But he's supposed to come over tonight to help Christopher out with school." That wasn't relevant. That was just him trying to convince himself that nothing could be wrong.

Eddie wasn't great with science homework but Buck loved it. Thank goodness, or Christopher might be in trouble. And Buck wasn't in trouble. He was just running late. Probably blasting music too loud in his jeep. He couldn't hear the phone. He'd walk in with his gorgeous smile, like he'd done nothing wrong, and after work they'd go home together.

Buck would help with the homework while Eddie made... scratch that - while Eddie ordered dinner. They'd have a couple beers. Maybe Buck could stay the night. He always looked the most relaxed when he was sleeping, and the sight always loosened some tension for Eddie too. He could use some of that right now, because as much as he tried to tell himself it was nothing, Eddie couldn't help but worry.

Just then, the alarm sounded.

Bobby frowned. "I want to be alerted the second someone hears from him. Understood?" He waited for accepting nods before he said, "Alright, let's head out!"

The truck was strange without Buck. He wasn't out on medical leave due to his leg. He wasn't out because of a lawsuit. He just... wasn't there. Though no one made a discussion of it, Eddie could tell they were all thinking about it. Where was Buck?

They turned down a street and Chim whistled. "Damn. This place is still a wreck."

Eddie glanced out the window. He recognized the area only because it was in cinders. They didn't go down the road but even from the main street the devastation was visible. Four charred and broken buildings they'd done their best to save only a week ago. Well, firefighters weren't miracle workers. They'd saved what they could, and only one person didn't make it out - the gentleman who'd actually started the fire in his basement.

As the fire truck sped on, Eddie hoped their current call was easier than that one. He glanced down at his phone and equally hoped that there'd be a missed call or text from Buck showing there by the time they finished this call.

Where are you, man? He asked in his head. Bah, he was probably overreacting. Everything was fine.

Someone was calling his name. He didn't recognize the voice. They sounded young. Young like Christopher.

"Bucky!"

When he turned around, Chris was there, moving as fast as his crutches would allow. Buck grinned wide and hugged the boy as soon as he was close enough.

"Hey, buddy! Where's your dad?" He asked, looking around. The park was full of families for the Easter event, kids all ready to hunt eggs and get face paint and do egg crafts and whatever else families with kids did on Easter.

On cue, Eddie appeared with a cooler in tow. "Sweet, you saved us a table," he noticed. He always looked so good in civilian clothes. Buck remembered being jealous about that back in the day. Now he just let himself appreciate it. He got to spend his free days with his super sexy, beautifully Hispanic best friend. Hashtag winning.

The park had filled up quickly that morning with families claiming all the park tables, but Buck was no fool. He'd also come early and claimed a whole table for himself, solo, with no family or kids around. For awhile, he'd laid out on top of it, but by the time Christopher called to him, he'd moved to sitting like a normal human being.

"I may not go to family events on a regular basis, but I figured it had to be like any other major event. The good spots always go fast, and I didn't want to end up sitting on the grass." And tables would be easier for Christopher too, but he didn't say that part. Undoubtedly, Eddie already knew that's where Buck's head had been at.

"Thanks," Eddie said, setting the cooler by the table. From inside, he pulled a snack for Chris and a water bottle that he handed to Buck. They'd joked about bringing beer, but they also knew they'd get kicked out for it and that wouldn't be fair to Christopher.

While Eddie finished setting his stuff down and settling into the mood of the day, Buck stared out at the grass. He had the odd sensation that he'd been here before. Not just the park – because of course he'd been to the park before – but in this very scenario. He felt like Easter had been several weeks ago, could almost picture Chris laughing over colorful eggs filled with gummy bears and Eddie groaning when a bottle of glitter got knocked into his chest during crafts. His hands on the water bottle remembered the feeling of brushing Eddie's chest off, only to realize he'd spread the glitter onto himself in the process. He almost remembered laughing together until they cried and wishing he could brush his hands over Eddie's chest again. Almost.

He just had the oddest feeling of de ja vu.

"Thanks for coming out today," Eddie said, and Buck smiled through the weird repetition. Eddie was rubbing the back of his neck like he was nervous, but his eyes were steady on Buck. "I'm glad you came with us. It wouldn't be the same without you. I know Chris would've been really disappointed."

"Yep," Chris chimed in helpfully before giggling.

Buck watched Eddie pat his son's hair lovingly. "Come on, Eddie. You know I love being with you guys." He ruffled Chris' hair as soon as Eddie's hand moved. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

Work allowing, Buck would go anywhere with Eddie. And Christopher, of course. He knew they were a package deal, and he didn't mind at all. He loved Christopher almost as much as he loved Eddie. Being included in their plans, as though he were family, was everything Buck needed in life. Well, dinners with Bobby and Athena were pretty great, and hanging out with Maddie and Chim was usually a good time, but Eddie and Chris – that's where Buck's heart was. No matter what he was going through, an evening with his two favorite guys was sure to help him out.

Buck and Eddie sat close together and looked out at the tents set up around the park, where they could take Chris to partake in different games and events. With every tent discussed, Buck's sense of de ja vu grew. He had the feeling of already visiting every tent already. Bumping shoulders with Eddie, Buck wondered if the other two were feeling the same way. Had he dreamt the whole day ahead of time? Or was this the dream, a dream of a memory?

"Buck," Christopher called calmly, like the name was just a word.

"Yeah, kid?" Buck asked, giving the boy his full attention even as the de ja vu nagged him.

"Don't you think you should wake up now?" Chris asked, his eyes focused on the snack in front of him.

Eyes narrowing, Buck looked between Chris and Eddie, but the father just shrugged good-naturedly. "What are you talking about?" Buck tried again, careful not to sound too confused. He didn't want Chris thinking he was mad.

"Just, it's getting kind of hot. And you hit your head pretty hard. I just think you should, you know, wake up. Before you can't anymore," Chris said.

While Buck watched, Chris set down his snack and looked up at him. In the blink of an eye, Chris was covered in soot. No, not just Chris. Everything was covered in soot. Gasping, Buck jumped back from the table, dropping his water. He looked, terrified, at Eddie, but found the other man was gone. In fact, all the other children and families had vanished, leaving their soot covered benches and crafts.

"C-Christopher," Buck said, trying to steady his heartbeat. "We, uh, we gotta go."

When he looked back at the table, Christopher looked unconcerned. In fact, he smiled and gave a nod. "Yeah. You should go."

With his next blink, Buck was not in the park. His eyes opened, feeling like they'd been shut for days, not for a blink. The sun was above him, peeking in at him over the edge of some building. He tried to look around, figure out where he was, but his limbs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds and moving his head made him too dizzy to function. He squeezed his eyes shut against the swaying and the pain throbbing from the back of his head. His whole body ached fiercely, and he groaned.

Briefly he remembered falling. Was he in the basement, then? What about Ginny? He forced his lips apart and took in a deep breath, or as deep as his aching chest would allow.

"H-Hey," he said without volume, coughed and tried again with little results. "Ginny?"

Silence answered him. He felt sleep pulling on him, but he fought it. The sun meant he'd been in the basement for at least four hours. He'd slept enough. The sun also meant he'd been late to work. Buck couldn't bring himself to move, but surely the team would notice his absence and try looking for him.

He let out a whimper when he tried to shift his arm and felt pain shoot through his shoulder. His head ached and his eyelids drooped. Where was his phone? The team… The team would find him, right? Except… Buck always changed his running route. Not even Eddie or Maddie would know where he'd run that morning. Would anyone stumble upon him and call 911?

"Help," he croaked out. "Is anybody out there? I need help."

But the buildings on either side of this one were also burnt. No one should be going anywhere near them. It had been chance that Buck had heard Ginny crying at all. God, he needed to move, but his shoulder screamed and his head swam and he couldn't even manage to roll onto his side without using all the energy he had.

Ginny. He couldn't hear the girl, so she must have made it out. She'd find help. She'd rescue him the way he'd rescued her.

Tears stung his eyes. He didn't want to be stuck down here forever. He wanted to hear the fire truck's siren, see Eddie's face above his. He was supposed to help Christopher with his homework tonight, damn it. He couldn't just die down here.

"Help," he called again, a little louder. It took more of his energy to raise his voice, but he had to catch someone's attention. He had to. He had to. "Help!"

The 118 finished their first call, saving someone from a half-collapsed balcony, and was immediately called to help with a warehouse fire. On the drive over, Eddie checked his phone but there was no call from Buck. When he glanced around at the others, he got shaken heads. No calls or texts.

Eddie brought the phone to his ear. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Hey, this is Buck. If I missed your call, I'm probably sleeping or on the truck. Leave your message or send me a text, man. Catch up with the times!"

Beep!

"Buck, it's Eddie. Where are you, man? Answer your phone. Call me back." He hung up with a sigh of frustration.

Hen gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sure he's just sitting at the station, worrying himself into a stomach ache about Bobby benching him for being late," she said.

"I'll text Maddie," Chim offered, pulling his phone out. "If he's too sick to call out, she'll probably know. And she can swing by his place to make sure he's drinking his pedialyte like a good kid."

They all managed to smile a little at the joke, even Eddie. Chim was probably right. Buck was just sprawled out in bed with a fever and too dizzy to call it in. In the front seat, Bobby was radioing the station and smiling. He told them to radio when Firefighter Buckley showed up, and if he was sick they should send him right back home. Right, because if Buck dragged himself to work while ill, it would take the whole team to force him to leave again. More likely, they'd come back to the station and find him half-passed out on the couch and claiming he was absolutely fine.

Eddie wished Buck would take better care of himself. He always pushed himself too far, even if things did work out eventually. Buck needed to worry more about himself and less about the job. If something happened to Buck because of his recklessness, Eddie wasn't sure what he'd do with himself. His life was so tied up with Buck's at this point that he was sure it'd be like losing Shannon all over again.

His heart probably wouldn't survive it. Chris would be back with his nightmares. It might break them both. Which all boiled down to the idea that Buck needed to hesitate more, think things through, and stop pushing himself so hard. If the job didn't kill him, he'd cause himself some kind of heart attack with how much he worked these days. Eddie should sit him down and have a talk with him about it.

Eddie had a lot he needed to talk to Buck about, actually. He pat his chest, over where his St. Christopher medal hung under his clothes, against his heart.

They noticed the smoke before they saw the warehouse. With a deep breath, Eddie cleared his thoughts. Buck was fine. He would be fine. It was time to go to work.

Someone was singing. Buck noticed it slowly, like recognizing the sound of rain that snuck up on you on a lazy Sunday morning. Like waking up on Eddie's couch, the room dim from the overcast sky, and the smell of eggs cooking in the kitchen. Eggs – the only thing Eddie could cook without fail. He made such good omelets. Buck loved waking up to the smell of peppers and onions and eggs, and the sound of rain on the other side of the window. He always let himself pretend he lived in the Diaz home on mornings like that. Days off with Eddie making eggs and Christopher watching Finding Nemo and Buck lounging on the couch.

"Swimming…Swimming…" The singing was soft and slow, like it had all the time in the world. "What… do we do… we swim… swim... swim…"

Vaguely he realized the words were coming from his own mouth. His eyes, which had been starring ahead at nothing, refocused. He saw the burnt out hole above him. The blue sky beyond it. The sun burning bright. His vision unfocused again.

"Eddie…" His voice, even as a whisper, ached.

He'd shouted for such a long time. He didn't remember stopping, but his throat hurt from it. Did it count as blacking out if you never lost consciousness? Buck couldn't remember getting to the point of staring dazedly up, whisper singing Dory. How much time had passed? He tried to focus on the sun, to judge the time by its position above him, but he was having trouble concentrating. Concussion? Head trauma? Both? His shoulder still hurt like a bitch.

"E-Eddie," he murmured again. He meant to say more, call out to other people, remember other things, but his mind drifted into nothing for several long moments.

He was hot. His workout clothes were made not to hold onto heat from exercising, but lying under the sun wasn't exactly listed in their prescribed use. He didn't feel like he was sweating, but then he didn't have a lot of focus for more pain and discomfort than his head and shoulder.

He didn't think he was bleeding – or if he was, he didn't think it was a bad bleed. He probably wasn't going to bleed to death. But heatstroke… dehydration… eventually starvation. Something else would get him.

His tears were warm. He almost didn't feel them on his cheeks, although he felt them stinging his eyes. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die. He wanted eggs. He wanted Christopher curling up beside him on the couch. He wanted Eddie's adoring smile when he looked over from the kitchen. He wanted Maddie's arms around him. He wanted dinner with Bobby and Athena. He wanted to go to work. He wanted to know he'd saved that little girl; that she wasn't just lying in some other corner of the basement that he couldn't see. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

"Just keep… swimming," he murmured distractedly, breathing labored from crying. His tears were hot. "Just k-keep–" He choked out a sob. He had to stay awake. He had to stop crying. He had to keep calling for help.

"The rest of this shift better be silent as the grave." They were finally heading back to the station. Chim sighed heavily, letting his head fall back against the seat.

"For real," Hen agreed.

The warehouse fire had taken so long to put out, especially since they were down a hand. Buck wouldn't have made a huge impact, but one more set of boots on the ground was better than not. Their arms all ached slightly from the weight of the hoses and the fight against the water pouring through them. Hen rolled her shoulders while Chim and Eddie both checked their phones.

No text from Buck. Eddie frowned. Okay, now he was definitely starting to worry. It was past lunch. Surely Buck would have woken up long enough to check his phone by now. The guy lived for food. Even if he was so sick he couldn't function, Buck would find a way to eat. Whenever he made dinner for Eddie and Christopher, he always made enough for five or six people, claiming he didn't know how to cook small. Honestly, Eddie knew Buck just liked to eat a lot and still have enough for leftovers. That was fine, because it often meant Christopher had a prepared lunch the next day – like Buck was still there, cooking for them.

Across from him, Chim frowned too.

"Maddie says Buck's not at home. Any word from the station?" he asked.

Bobby shook his head. "Nothing."

He'd been in a car accident. It was the first terrible situation to pop into Eddie's head, but it definitely wasn't the last. Buck had been hurt in a collision, and he was laid out in some hospital, dying just like Shannon had, only this time Eddie wasn't there. Or he'd been mugged when stopping for gas, with no one around to stop it. His leg had started acting up and he was going in for surgery, the possibility of losing his ability to work hanging heavy on his shoulders again and no one there to assure him of his worth. He'd gone for a run and was attacked by a rabid dog – knowing Buck it'd be some kind of killer Chihuahua. He was dead.

Eddie's breath caught.

Maybe it was because he was already thinking of worst case scenarios, but something made Eddie's heart automatically panic when he saw the girl on the side of the road. He slapped his hand on the side of the truck.

"Stop the truck," he ordered loudly. "Pull over."

Bobby nodded from the captain's seat at the same time he turned around. "What's up, Eddie?"

"There was a little girl," he said, trying to see out the back of the truck. "She looked hurt."

The truck pulled off on the side of the road while Bobby turned around in his seat, trying to see what Eddie had. "Are you sure?" It wasn't common for them to stop for random people on the street.

Without answering, Eddie undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the truck. The little girl was slowly limping down the street, her clothes dirty and rumpled. As Eddy made his way toward her, he heard his team climbing down to follow him. The closer he got, the more Eddie was sure the girl needed help. For one, she was no older than eight, but she was walking down a major road by herself. Her limp became more obvious as he got near, and there was dried blood on her forehead.

"Oh my god," Hen said behind him. "I'll grab the first aid kit." She turned and ran back to the truck.

Though Eddie had brought her to their attention, Chim reached her first and knelt down. "Hey, are you okay, little girl?"

The girl stopped walking, but her eyes were unfocused. She seemed to recognize that someone was speaking to her, though, because her mouth started moving. Eddie and Chim both knit their brows in concern and confusion, because it wasn't words coming out. They shared a bewildered look as Hen reached them, Bobby close behind.

"Is she… clucking?" Hen asked.

"Concussion?" Bobby offered, kneeling down in front of her. She didn't look at him, just continued to make chicken noises. Bok bok bok bok. Eddie frowned, positive he'd never seen anyone revert to animal sounds from a concussion, and he wondered momentarily if the child had been drugged.

Hen did her best to look the girl over, though the child seemed to barely register the woman's touches. How long had she been wandering out here? She looked like she'd emerged from the wilderness instead of a home.

There was something about her that made Eddie nervous. The twisted ankle? The detached look in her eye? His mind replayed some of his worst case scenarios for Buck and he swallowed thickly. Instinctively, he pulled his phone out and checked for notifications. Still nothing. But – He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Don't panic, he told himself.

Eddie's brow pulled tight. With his eyes closed, suddenly the girl's clucking was sounding less and less like bird noises. He frowned and knelt down with the others, trying to get in the girl's view.

"Buck?" he asked, voice level and serious.

For the first time, the girl's eyes seemed to focus. Her lips shut, wobbling with fear and unshed tears. A cold dread settled in Eddie's gut. Was this really happening? Was this coincidence?

"B-Buck," the girl said, sounding scared and beginning to shake. "H-Help. Buck."

The others glanced at each other then at Eddie, whose eyes had never left the child. "Where?"

She looked around, and her wide eyes proved she must have been walking for awhile without noticing where she was. She shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. Hen was cleaning her head wound, which had long ago stopped bleeding. "I don't… know. Where am I?"

"If we go with you, do you think you could show us where Buck is?" Eddie asked, sounding leagues more professional than he felt.

Slowly, the girl began to nod. "The house… burned down," she murmured. "A lot of houses did. Buck… I was in… the basement."

"She's got a concussion," Hen confirmed. "She might not remember what happened, Eddie. We don't know if –"

"Someone's in trouble," Eddie interrupted, looking fiercely up into the gazes of his teammates. "Whether or not it's him, someone needs our help. Are we going to ignore them?"

No one argued. After a tense moment, Chim cleared his throat. "Well I'm always up for being a hero. Let's do it," he said, relieving some of the uncertainty of the others.

They clambered back onto the truck, with Eddie, the girl, and Hen sitting on the back to give the girl the best vantage point. They drove slowly down the road in the direction the girl had come from, keeping an eye out for burning smells or obvious fire. She'd said the house burned down. Eddie's gut swirled. Had Buck run into a burning building last night without backup? Without his equipment? Was he that reckless? That hadn't even been on his list of worst case scenarios.

When they were a few streets down, Hen clapped her hands together. She grabbed her radio, expression tight and determined. "Cap, you remember the multi-house fire we helped put out last week?"

Brow knit, Eddie looked around, trying to figure out why she'd brought it up. He didn't recognize the street, and none of these houses were damaged. But the captain must be on the same wavelength as Hen. Over the radio, Bobby said, "I follow, Hen," and the truck took a turn down the next road. Eddie didn't follow, but he also didn't argue.

They were two blocks over when the girl beside him came to life, pointing wildly. The burnt out remains of several houses had come into view, and now Eddie recognized them intimately. They were different in the mid-day sun, but it was definitely the same stretch of houses. He remembered Buck making a joke about the fish shaped mailbox at the end of the driveway of the last house.

"Looks like it's gonna bite my hand off when I reach for the mail. What is this, reverse fishing?" He could still hear the laughter, see the smile, feel the warmth it spread through his chest.

"There!" the girl screamed. "There!"

"Third one, Cap," Hen said into the radio, and the fire truck pulled to the curb beside the house that had started the blaze the week before. "Stay here, sweetie. We'll check it out," she said to the girl.

"Buck!" The girl shouted toward the house. "I found more firemen! Buck!"

Eddie's feet hit the asphalt with a scraping noise. His chest felt tight and painful. Was it true? He approached the house, his heart in his throat. The house was all but destroyed. He didn't see Buck, but if Buck was hurt… It would explain his absence at work and why he hadn't answered his phone. Had he been here, alone, all day? Why wasn't he calling for help?

Chim and Bobby reached the remains first. They split up to look around the rubble, and it was Bobby who first checked the large hole in the middle of the living room. In a flash, his hand was on his radio. "I need an ambulance immediately. Hen and Chimney, grab the ladder and call for a crane truck."

Ice ran through Eddie's veins and he scrambled up beside Bobby. His captain held a hand out to keep Eddie a short distance away and gave him a warning look. Anger flashed briefly through Eddie. Why –?

"Careful, Diaz. This floor is a hazard," the captain said, slowly lowering himself down.

Nodding, Eddie swallowed thickly. He sidestepped around to put distance between Bobby and himself then he copied his captain and knelt down on the floor. He couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he pressed them into the wood and leaned over the edge of the hole. A gasp stole his breath.

"Buck," he wheezed.

The young firefighter was sprawled on the basement floor, covered in dust and soot. His head had barely missed a metal filing cabinet, but there was definitely some blood around his head and his shoulder was unnatural – probably dislocated. Hopefully not broken. His eyes were shut. They'd never get him up a ladder.

No, no, no, no, no.

Eddie flattened himself on the wood. "Buck!"

"Buckley!" Bobby called out. "Buck!"

He wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. Eddie grit his teeth. This couldn't be happening. This couldn't –

"Carajo – Evan!" he screamed. In his mind, he screamed even more. Open your eyes. Damn it. Open your eyes! Don't be dead. Not like this.

Buck wasn't deaf. But he'd been hearing people calling to him in his mind all day – distant dreams of being rescued, memories of days past. At first, he thought these new voices, as real as they sounded, were more of the same.

"Evan!"

His forehead knit. That was Eddie's voice. Eddie had never called him by his first name. Did that mean…

"Eddie," he said with a quiet breath, too quiet to be heard up above. He forced his eyes to open. The sun was still bright above him.

"Yes. Yes, come on!" Eddie's frantic voice called.

"Eyes open, Buck!" Bobby too?

"Got the ladder!" Chim?

His team. Jesus. His team was there. They'd found him. Buck felt tears forming anew. He wasn't going to die down here. They'd found him.

There was a scramble up above. Another part of the floor cracked and fell away, exposing the basement all the way to its walls. No one fell down. Thank god. The sun glinted off the metal of the ladder as it was lowered into the hole. Buck closed his eyes against the light, and when he opened them again, he saw two people descending into the basement, a backboard and first aid kit in their hands.

"Buck. Hey. Hey, how we doing?" Eddie knelt beside him, laying out the backboard.

"Eddie." His voice came out with such relief that it sounded broken and desperate. If he weren't in so much pain, if he hadn't spent the last god-knows-how-many hours thinking he was going to die, then he might be embarrassed. But not right then.

Eddie was there. They were going to get him out of here.

Hen was on his other side, a neck brace in one hand and the first aid kit in the other. "Tell me where it hurts, baby."

Buck tried to shift, to draw attention to his shoulder, but it burned with pain and he hissed loudly and squeezed his eyes shut. When he caught his breath, he squinted up at her and spoke slowly, so he wouldn't lose the words before they made it out of his mouth. "S-Shoulder. Think I dislocated it." She nodded. "My head. Pretty sure I got a concussion."

"You sound like it," Hen agreed. Had he been slurring? Speaking even slower than he'd meant to? Eddie's face was pinched, but he helped Hen apply the neck brace. "This is gonna hurt." That was all the warning he got from Hen before the two of them moved him onto the backboard. His shoulder screamed in protest, but he clenched his teeth to keep from making more than a groan of displeasure.

"All ready," Eddie said into the radio. "That crane here yet?"

"Pulling up now," Bobby replied. "How's our man?"

Buck's head was swimming with relief. "Better now," he murmured. Eddie's knelt position left his hand within reach, and Buck grabbed onto it. He let his gaze meet Eddie's for a split second before he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He was going to live, and Eddie was here. Compared to ten minutes ago, this was heaven. "Better now," he repeated.

Eddie gripped his hand tightly.

Eddie was really starting to hate hospitals. Someone on the team was always ending up in one, but perhaps that just came with the job. They were first responders. They ran into dangerous situations all the time – like blindly rescuing small children from burnt out houses at five o'clock in the god damn morning without calling for help. Yeah, this one was all on Buck.

When Eddie and the others had heard Buck give his report, their mouths had hung open, their eyebrows raised high. Buck had gotten a good scolding from them all. Sure, he hadn't run into a burning building without his gear, but he'd run into a dilapidated house that he knew wasn't structurally sound without a word of warning to anyone. Oh, dios mio.

The fall had injured him, of course – the dislocated shoulder, the whack on the back of his head, the bruising all over his back – but he also had heat exhaustion from the California sun shining down on him for hours without any protection. That last one, at least, he would be recovered from in about an hour with air conditioning and water.

Bobby, of course, forgave Buck for missing work, considering he'd been trapped in a basement for about eight hours, and promised to bring him some food tomorrow, once he was out of the hospital. Hen, ever concerned about their baby buck, double checked that his IV was securely taped down and that his finger monitor was on right about four times before she was satisfied. She also made Buck drink a whole bottle of water before she felt comfortable leaving.

Mid-day, Maddie was still on shift, but Chim video called her to show her that Buck was alive. Besides his new sling and some bandages on minor cuts, he looked pretty normal. With his shoulder reset and the head wound all patched up, the only evidence Buck was in pain came when he tried to move his torso. It was gonna be awhile before his back forgave him for his stunt. So he just laid still while talking to his sister.

"I'm not even being kept overnight," Buck said as a way to assure Maddie of his wellbeing. "They fixed me up and I'll be home before you even get off shift."

"Okay. Do you want me to swing by? I can bring painkillers or dinner or a late night snack?"

"Oh no. No, thanks, Maddie. I don't need my big sister fawning over me, especially not when I'm totally fine." He even raised his bad shoulder to show he hadn't lost movement in it – though it was undoubtedly still sore. It had been out of place for a long time, but Buck hadn't moved much so the damage was minimal. He'd need mild physical therapy to retain his range of motion. Nothing big.

Lucky.

"Fine. But text or call me in the morning. Okay?" She didn't look as worried as when the call began, and Buck smiled easily for her.

"I promise," he said, crossing his chest with his uninjured hand like he was in church.

As soon as the call ended, Buck slouched. He handed the phone to Chimney and leaned his head back against the pillow. Chim pat his knee and promised to visit with Maddie as soon as Buck allowed visitors to invade his apartment. They both knew Buck liked to wallow on his own for a bit. He was on medical leave for a week, then light duty while his body healed, but he'd be back in the field soon enough. This wasn't like the ladder truck, and Buck didn't foresee wallowing too much.

"Hey," Buck called before Chimney could fully leave the room. "How's Ginny? She okay?"

Chim nodded once before smiling. "She's doing great, Buck. A worse concussion than you and a sprained ankle, but she's alright. Her parents are in with her now. Apparently they'd filed a missing persons report when she didn't come home last night – thought she was gone forever. They might just kiss you if they meet you."

"Nah," Buck said, waving him off, but the grin on his face was wide and telling. "I'm just glad I found her."

"You did good, kid." Chimney gave him a long distance fist bump then ducked from the room.

For a moment, Buck relaxed on the bed, smiling gently as he thought of the girl he'd rescued. It was his 'job well done' smile, the one he got when he felt like he'd really done something worthwhile on the job. Eddie knew that smile. He also knew the one Buck got when he was talking to or about Christopher, that proud glint in his eye as if Chris was his kid and not Eddie's. Buck really did love kids.

"What are you doing over there, Mr. Brooding?" Buck asked, drumming his fingers on his sling. "You haven't said a word in like twenty minutes. It's starting to freak me out."

"Oh, dios mio," Eddie murmured, rubbing at the space between his eyebrows. "Tengo tanto para contarte. Mucho que decir."

"¿Qué quieres?" Buck answered back. Eddie's head snapped up in surprise and Buck grinned, something smug but inviting. "Hábla conmigo."

"You know Spanish?" Eddie asked, a little affronted that he hadn't been informed of this before.

With a little wince, Buck held up his fingers to indicate the space of an inch. "Noooot really," he admitted. "I bartended in South America for a summer. Most people thought I was cooler because I was American, but I picked some stuff up."

'What do you want?' It made perfect sense that Buck would have picked that up as a bartender. Those two would have been common phrases for him. Hearing the Spanish, pronounced well even, coming from Buck's lips should not have made Eddie's heart beat so fast, but it did. It was like a bridge Buck was using to cross the divide, even though they barely had a divide as it was. These days, it felt like Buck might as well be Eddie's own left arm. That's why worrying about him all day had been so… exhausting.

"I dunno, man." Eddie ran a hand over his hair and moved to stand closer to the bed. Any minute now, the nurse would come in with the prescription for Buck's pain medication and tell him he was free to go. Any minute. And then Buck would try to leave, as if nothing had changed and nothing was wrong. But so much was wrong. "I just got real scared today, I guess."

"You guys think I was dead when I didn't show up for work?" Buck teased. Or mostly teased. Eddie could see how the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Somethin like that." Eddie put a hand on the bed's side rail. "Everyone kept offering theories. You were so sick you couldn't make a phone call. You were just late so we missed each other. I dunno. I just… When you didn't answer my calls, I just knew something was up. I couldn't shake it. Then, by pure luck, we found you half conscious in a basement. Jesus, Buck. I just –" He closed his eyes tight, unable to figure out how to say what he wanted to, in either language.

Buck's hand rested slowly over his on the rail. "Hey, I'm sorry I worried you. I know I was reckless and I shoulda called it in, but I… She was crying, Eddie. You know what crying kids do to me." He took a shuddering breath. "And I don't need another lecture. I- I just spent eight hours…" His voice trailed off, and when Eddie looked up from their hands, he saw Buck's eyes staring down at nothing. "I really thought I was gonna die down there."

"Hey." Eddie squatted down and touched Buck's cheek to get him to look over. "We found you. Alright? You're okay."

"Yeah, now." Buck took in a deep breath through his nose, revealing the unmistakable sound of a nose preparing for tears. He cleared his throat and blinked rapidly to fend them off. His hand tensed over Eddie's. "But Eddie. I-I couldn't breathe right. I couldn't move. God. I thought – I mean, I was hallucinating about going to the park with you and Christopher, and I just kept wishing we could do that again. Just the three of us. And then I'd remember that I was in a hole, with no one around and no one knowing where I'd gone. I –"

Eddie shushed him gently, turning his hand over to hold Buck's tightly. "Hey, I'm right here. You're gonna be alright. I never woulda left you down there. You hear?" He touched Buck's face again, regaining him from his tumultuous thoughts. "Ginny or no Ginny, I would have combed the city for you. We all would have. You believe that, right?"

Buck sniffled again and shook his head to help clear his tears. "Yeah. Yeah, no. I know that." He nodded, but then all the head moving made him dizzy and he leaned back into the pillow with a groan. "I've survived tsunamis. This should've been cake."

"During the tsunami, you're mind was busy worrying about other people instead of worrying about yourself, like you should," Eddie pointed out, smiling teasingly. That got Buck to crack a new smile, and Eddie's face relaxed into a tender expression. He could feel it in his cheeks, in his chest. "Hey, come home with me. Until your back's all better. I don't wanna imagine you in that big apartment by yourself."

He didn't want Buck to wake up alone, in pain, and with no one to help. He wanted to be there for Buck. More than that, Eddie didn't want to wake up without being able to see him. His thumb gently caressed the back of Buck's knuckles.

"Déjame cuidarte," he murmured, his tone gentle and a little pleading.

Buck's skin began to flush and he cleared his throat. "Uh. Yeah, I don't… I don't know what that means," he said.

Eddie chuckled softly. He'd managed to make Buck blush with just his tone. "Let me take care of you," he said, keeping his voice as soft as his eyes.

The blush grew more noticeable on Buck's pale skin, but after only a moment of hesitation, he nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Eddie nodded too and raised Buck's hand to his lips. He kissed the sun burnt knuckles, realizing again just how scary the whole ordeal had been. He held Buck's hand close to his mouth, though his lips no longer touched the skin. After second, Buck pulled his hand away and Eddie's stomach fell. He'd pushed too far. He'd crossed the line. He'd messed it all up.

Then Buck's hand was back, fingers hesitantly brushing over Eddie's stubble until he was cupping his cheek. Eddie raised his eyes back to Buck's face and found the younger man's jaw clenched and his face as red as ever. He looked as nervous as Eddie had ever seen him.

Eddie covered Buck's hand with his own and smiled to clear the tension from Buck's jaw. He felt Buck's thumb running back and forth over his cheek and knew they were on the same page. His chest felt like it was shuddering in relief.

"Can we stay together?" Buck murmured.

"Yeah." Eddie said it so quiet that he wasn't sure the word actually made it past his lips, but Buck smiled and he knew it had. He meant it too. He wasn't going to let anything get between them. Chris would never forgive him if he did, but also Eddie couldn't imagine his life without Buck in it.

From the smile on Buck's face, Eddie knew the feeling was mutual. He had the urge to lean over and kiss Buck right then and there, but it had been a trying day. High stress situations weren't the best time for love confessions. Except, he kind of felt like they'd already done that. Neither had said the word 'love', but it was clear to Eddie that the feeling was there. They could say the words later, when they were comfortable and safe – maybe with Christopher beside them, maybe alone.

They had time. Neither was going to let go now.

Carajo

-Damn it

Dios mio.

-My God.

Tengo tanto para contarte. Mucho que decir.

-I have so much to tell you. A lot to say.

¿Qué quieres?

-What do you want?

Hábla conmigo.

-Talk to me.