I Will Carry You

Buck paced around his living room, adjusting boxes, brushing imaginary dust off his couch, and doing his best to rein in his nerves while he waited for his sister and Chimney to arrive.

He’d made it home from the sandwich shop with just under ten minutes to spare before they would arrive, and he’d been anxiously moving around the apartment ever since. When it hit him that the labored breathing he was hearing was coming from his own throat, Buck took a second to sit on his couch and put his head between his knees.

In between breaths, he reminded himself that he was doing the right thing, that Maddie would always love him no matter what, and that everything was going to work out. After a few more deep inhales and exhales, he finally felt his heart rate slow and his breathing calm. He wasn’t sure if this many panic attacks over the course of an hour was a good thing, and he just hoped it would be the last one for the day.

And then, the doorbell rang.

Girding himself for the barrage of questions that he knew would come the second his sister walked in, Buck picked himself up from his couch and slowly made his way to the door. 

The smile Maddie gave him when he opened the door was enough to warm him to his toes and took away some of the remaining anxiety he’d been feeling. “Hey, Evan! Thanks for having us for lunch. I brought some brownies, and before you say anything, I know it’s not your cheat day, but they are beyond delicious. You have to have one! Ugh, I’ve missed you! It seems like it’s been ages since we…”

Chimney had followed Maddie into Buck’s apartment, smiling at his girlfriend’s happy greeting, before he stopped beside the kitchen island, noticing what Maddie hadn’t yet. All too soon though, Maddie’s words trailed off as both she and Chimney surveyed the stack of boxes set against the living room wall. Maddie looked around the practically bare space and turned to face Buck who’d stayed beside his front door, hands in pockets, with his eyes glued to the floor. 

“Evan…what’s going on? Why is all your stuff packed up in boxes?” Maddie tilted her head, her eyes the picture of concern as she took in Buck’s sad expression. 

“Maybe—maybe you should sit down, Mads.” 

He motioned to the dining table he’d yet to shrink wrap before placing their lunch in front of them. When neither Maddie or Chim moved to start eating, Buck sighed deeply and grabbed his bottle of iced tea, needing something to fidget with while he told his sister and his friend what he had to. 

“Maddie, things haven’t been working out so good for me at the 118. The team hasn’t really let up on me since I’ve been back. Every call I go on, every decision I make, every little maneuver, I get criticized for it all. There isn’t one day that’s passed since I returned to the 118 months ago that Bobby or the rest of the crew haven’t had a hundred bad things to say about my performance every day. As far as they’re concerned, I can’t seem to do anything right. And if they’re not critiquing me, they’re ignoring me completely. It’s—it’s kind of been like Marcus and Mom all over again.” Buck hung his head with shame, the murderous, yet heartbroken look on his sister face—along with Chimney’s solemn expression—gutting him. “Th-the only person who hasn’t been that way towards me is Chim. He’s been pretty much the only thing holding me up at the firehouse these days.” 

At the mention of her boyfriend, Maddie seemed to remember that he was sitting there beside her. She turned to him with a glare, but before she could yell at him for—Buck imagined—not telling her the truth, Chimney interrupted. “I wanted to tell you, Maddie. So many times. Every day it just got harder and harder to pretend things were fine, and every time you asked me how things were going, I almost confessed everything to you.” 

“Then why didn’t you, Howie?” 

“Because I asked him not to,” Buck interjected. Maddie whipped her head around to look at him and the fierceness in her gaze was a sight to behold. “You’ve already lost so much time, Maddie. You finally had an entire family, people who care for you almost as much as me, and you had Chimney. I didn’t…I couldn’t take them from you. Not like that. I just couldn’t let you lose anyone else. So, I told Chim not to do anything about it.” 

“Oh, Evan,” Maddie whispered, a tear falling down her cheek as she reached over to take his hand. “Little brother, it’s not your job to protect me from something like this. If someone or something is hurting you, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me. What was it you said to me when I came back? Standing in between you and anyone who wants to hurt you-” 

“Is exactly where I want to be standing,” Buck finished for her. “I remember, Mads, I just—I didn’t think that rule applied in this case.” 

“Well, now you know. So, I’m here. We’re here,” she said, looking at Chimney and grabbing his hand too, seemingly forgiving him for the small part he’d played in everything. “You’re not alone, Evan. Just tell us what to do; we can help you.” 

“I know that. Even more so now that I told you the truth, too.” 

That seemed to surprise her, and she cocked her head to the side. “Who else have you told?” 

“Uncle Owen. He—he’s going to help me.”

“Owen? But, besides listening or giving advice, how can he help? He’s all the way in…” 

Maddie’s words trailed off again, her face morphing from confusion to something else Buck tried to identify. He knew the implication of his words, the packed boxes suddenly speaking loud and clear, and just waited for Maddie to finish connecting the dots. When it seemed she finally had, a sad smile crossed her face and she gently placed on a hand on Buck’s cheek. He closed his eyes at the feel of her soft skin cradling his face and heard her whisper, “You’re leaving us, aren’t you?” 

Tears filled his eyes and while he did his best not to let them fall, the delicate smile on Maddie’s face had him letting them go without realizing it. She’d always known what he was going to say before he’d even gotten the words out. 

Placing his hand over hers, relishing in the comfort his sister gave him, Buck nodded. “I have to, Maddie. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore. I can’t keep feeling like this. Being a firefighter is the only thing I’ve ever done that made me feel like I was worth anything. It’s the only thing I’ve ever done that has truly made me feel like I matter, like I’m making a difference. I became a firefighter for Dad, but I stay in this life for myself. It’s who I am, who I choose to be. But, being here, doing it this way with people who constantly either have me second guessing myself or have me feeling invisible? It’s torture. I feel like I’m going crazy, like everything I’ve ever believed about myself is a lie. I’m—I’m losing myself here, Maddie. It’s like I can barely breathe, like I’m—I’m coming apart all over again. I can’t…do this anymore. Not here.” 

“But…New York? You hate it there.” 

“No, not New York. Uncle Owen got an offer to rebuild the 126 in Austin. They uh—they lost all but one member of the Ladder in a factory explosion. AFD wants Owen to do for Austin what he did for the 252. He was already taking TK with him; he’s been having a…difficult time, too.” Buck looked Maddie directly in the eye and emphasized the word “difficult,” willing her to understand what he meant. The subtle clenching of her jaw told him she had. “When I told Uncle Owen about everything happening at the 118, what was happening to me, he offered me a spot with him. And, apparently, I have ‘desirable” skills because the AFD agreed to the transfer, no questions asked.” 

Maddie inhaled deeply before returning both her hands to cover Buck’s. She seemed to ponder his hands for a moment, running her fingers softly over the ridges and grooves of his skin. Buck often wondered what went through his sister’s mind when he’d see the calculated manner she’d almost stare through someone or something, seeing the parts of them hidden furthest out of sight. After a few minutes passed, Buck blurted out, “Mads? What are you thinking?” 

“Well,” she paused for a moment, giving Buck’s hands a squeeze before looking up at the ceiling and quirking her eyebrow. “I’m thinking about how much notice I have to give Sue about requesting off for Christmas, seeing as it looks like I’ll be in Austin for the holidays this year.” They both smiled at her small joke before Maddie cocked her head to look him in the eyes again. “I’m also thinking about how much I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. Which, by the looks of things, will be sooner than later?” 

Buck looked around to stare at the boxes piled along the wall, the few pieces of larger furniture he’d already plastic wrapped. He nodded and looked back at her again. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow. I uh—I couldn’t really take being here much longer than that, and I guess Owen and TK felt the same. The plan is for the three of us to arrive in Austin by Friday, so we have the weekend to start getting settled before the work begins.” 

“You never did like to wait around once you had a destination in mind.” Maddie laughed, despite the tears glistening once more in her eyes. “I’m really going to miss you.” 

“We’re both going to miss you, Buckaroo,” Chimney agreed. 

Buck turned to look at his coworker, his friend, and was surprised to see the moisture settled in the corner of his eyes too. Chimney was never a big crier, from what little Buck had seen, so it surprised him that everything he’d heard today had made such an impression.

Chimney leaned forward, grasping onto Buck’s right shoulder and squeezing it in a supportive manner. “I just want you to know I’m sorry things happened like this. I understand why you didn’t want me telling Maddie, but I wish I had—if only because maybe it’d mean you wouldn’t be leaving us. I’m really going to miss you, man. I’ve liked having another little brother around; I’m not sure what I’m going to do without my second favorite Buckley being a stone’s throw away.” 

Buck smiled at Chimney’s words, enjoying the warm feeling they left in his chest. He pulled one of his hands from beneath Maddie’s and grasped onto Chimney’s. “Well, at least you’ll have the scarier Buckley around to keep you on your toes. I'm only a phone call away, Chim, and, from the sound of things, you’ll be visiting for Christmas. So, it won’t really be that long that we’re apart, will it?”

The two men smiled at each other and nodded in agreement. Maddie’s stomach growling reminded them they hadn’t yet eaten, so the three of them took a few minutes to enjoy the levity and eat their lunch. After they’d finished, they talked more about the details of Buck’s move, and Chimney agreed to come before his shift Thursday to help Buck with his heavier furniture. Maddie promised to join them so she could say goodbye and give her brother a proper sendoff. 

Buck tried to ignore the guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach when Maddie cried again over his departure. 

As the couple got ready to leave, Maddie having a shift that night, Chimney asked the question Buck had been waiting for since he’d confessed he was moving. “When are you going to tell the others?” 

Buck sighed and clenched his hands in his pockets again. “Tomorrow, after my shift is over. I know it’s probably not fair of me to tell them when you’ll all still have another few hours on your shift. But I wanted to tell you and Maddie first, and I’m hoping I’ll be able say goodbye to Athena and—and Christopher while you’re all still on shift tomorrow night. It will be my last chance to see them before I leave, so I figured that would be the best time.” 

Chimney hung his head before clapping Buck on the shoulder and looking him in the eyes again. “Well, I’ve got your back, Buckaroo. You don’t have to do it alone; I’ll stand by you while you do this. Whatever you need, man; I’m here for you.” 

“Thanks, Chim,” Buck said shaking his friend’s hand. “I appreciate it.” He gave Maddie a firm hug goodbye, promising he’d see her soon and telling her to be safe during her shift. 

Closing the door of his loft, Buck couldn’t help but look around the place and cringe at how he felt. After the heaviness—then the bit of lightness—of the afternoon he’d had, his apartment almost felt claustrophobic from the weight of everything he’d dealt with that day. He picked up his roll of shrink wrap, pondering wrapping up the last of the big furniture save for his bed, when he decided he had to get out of his apartment for a little while. 

As he scaled the steps to the rooftop deck of his building, it occurred to Buck how the closer he got to his move, the smaller Los Angeles started to feel. It had felt for a while like the world had been closing in around him, suffocating him, but telling Maddie had really served to make everything real. And while he stared out across the expanse of the city, he realized that reality didn’t terrify him the way it had a few days prior. He still had telling the 118 to face, not to mention his other goodbyes, but he was confident that he’d be able to do it all and, hopefully, remain in one piece. 

And on that note, he thought, taking out his phone and clicking to a contact he hadn’t used in a while, he pressed the “dial” button before he could stop himself. The phone rang a few times and the call finally connected. 

“Buckaroo! Where the heck have you been and to what do I owe the pleasure of a call?” 

 Carla’s laughter filled the phone and her greeting had him smiling ear to ear. “Hey, Carla. I’ve uh—I’ve been around, just a little out of the loop these days. But I’ve been missing you. How’s things with the family? How’s—how’s Christopher?” Even the mention of his favorite kid, who he hadn’t seen in weeks, felt like a punch to the gut. 

It was bad enough that Eddie would only give him the time of day when he was criticizing him. But when, shortly after Buck’s return to the 118, Eddie stopped letting Buck see Christopher, telling Buck he wasn’t “comfortable” with him getting near his son, it had devastated Buck. It felt like his insides had frozen and his heart had slowed to a crawl. 

“My babies are good, thank you for asking. And little superman is doing just fine, though he misses you like crazy. He keeps asking where you are, and I’m starting to run out of excuses.” 

Buck heard what she wasn’t saying out loud and felt his chin drop to his chest, his throat tight and wobbly. He wasn’t sure how much Carla knew, he’d never come out and admitted anything to her himself, but his constant excuses for why he couldn’t see Christopher spoke volumes—of that he was fairly sure. But, considering Buck was leaving in less than 48 hours, he was running out of time to say his goodbyes to Christopher. 

He’d have to tell Carla something, but it didn’t necessarily need to be the whole truth. Buck decided on a variation of it that would save everyone, especially Eddie. They may have broken him, but he wasn’t about to spread the feeling around to anyone else. 

“About that, um, Carla, there’s something I gotta tell you. I’m—I’m moving…to Texas. My Uncle Owen, he’s rebuilding a House in Austin that lost all but one of their team in a big disaster. He has experience with rebuilding an entire crew, but he could use the help. So…so I’m going to go and help out down there for a while.” It took everything Buck had not to let his voice waver harder than it was, to not admit the whole truth of why he was leaving. Carla had always been a straight shooter with him, and here Buck was basically lying to her. 

But he couldn’t let her know the whole truth; he just couldn’t. Eddie and Christopher needed her, and Buck wouldn’t compromise their relationship for him. It wasn’t worth it, not when he was leaving anyway. 

“Aw Buckaroo, that’s the saddest news I’ve heard in a long time. I mean, don’t get me wrong, hon, I’m thrilled for you. It sounds like a good opportunity, but I’ll certainly miss your pretty face—even more than I already have been.” 

Buck could hear the implication in her tone and did his best not to let it sting. After all, it was his fault she hadn’t seen him in so long, but how could Buck see Carla without seeing Christopher too? The risk was too high, Eddie would’ve been furious, and Buck couldn’t chance it. 

Until now.

“Well, the thing is, I’m leaving the day after tomorrow. They need us in Austin immediately, so I’m pretty much leaving right away. I was—I was hoping I could see you and…and Christopher? Maybe tomorrow night, so I can say goodbye? I know it’s short notice, but I’m rolling out first thing Thursday morning.” Buck knew tomorrow night would be his only chance to say goodbye to Christopher without Eddie interfering. Since Eddie would still be on shift, Buck wasn’t sure if his former friend would know to interfere or even try at all, but Buck wasn’t about to find out. He inhaled deeply, trying to force out what he needed to say. “It’ll be my—my last chance to say goodbye to you both before I go.”

“Of course, honey! I’ll be sorry to say my goodbyes, but you’re not leaving this city without giving me a big enough hug to last me ‘til you come back. I’m not sure how Christopher will take the news, though.” 

“I imagine he won’t take hearing it much better than I will saying it,” Buck whispered out. Looking out over the LA rooftops, he suddenly felt like his heart was in a vice. He had to remind himself—again—that he was doing the right thing for himself, even if it may hurt Christopher. Buck would rather cut off his own arm than ever let anything bad happen to the kid, but Buck knew with time he’d be okay. 

Christopher would have his father, his Abuela and Tía Peppa, not to mention the rest of the 118 and Carla and everyone. He’d be fine. Eventually he’d forget about any pain he may feel over losing Buck and find happiness again.  

Buck had to believe that. Otherwise, he’d really fall apart. 

“I’ve uh—” he cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the hollow feeling of wanting to sob that had settled into his throat. “I’ve got a shift until about five tomorrow. Why don’t I meet you at about six-thirty? At the park you always take Christopher to?” Buck could only hope that he’d have extricated himself from the 118 and the impending conversation with the crew by that point. “Oh, and Carla? Can you not say anything to anyone—especially Eddie—if you see them before tomorrow afternoon? I—I haven’t told the 118, yet. I’m telling them after my shift tomorrow.”

If Carla heard the way his request sounded desperate in his ears, she didn’t say. She simply replied, “I understand, Buckaroo. I won’t say a thing. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“See you, Carla. And…thank you.” 

“You know I’ve always got your back, handsome. Now, go get some rest. You’ve got lives to save in a few hours.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Following another set of ‘goodnights’, Buck hung up the call and turned to head back inside his apartment building. The sun had started to set, and Buck realized he still had quite a few things to wrap up—literally—before he could go to sleep.

Buck had talked to his landlord, Nelson, earlier that morning about breaking his lease. He paid an extra month’s rent and told the landlord to keep the additional last month’s rent he’d put down when he first moved in. Nelson tried to refuse the extra month, the man had felt practically indebted to Buck after it turned out one of the people Buck saved during the tsunami was Nelson’s sister, but Buck wouldn’t hear of it. Nelson did insist on Buck at least taking back his security deposit and promising if he ever decided to move back to LA, to consider giving one of Nelson’s properties a shot again. Of course, Buck agreed, and the men parted on good terms. 

He decided to send Nelson another thank you email, along with the promise to refer anyone he may know in LA looking for a new apartment. Ironically, he realized Chimney’s brother, Albert, might make a good referral since the kid was desperate to get off his brother’s couch.

After that, Buck confirmed his truck rental and started making a list of all his boxes to ensure nothing was missing. He finished shrink wrapping the remaining furniture—with the exception of his bed frame and mattress. Those would wait until Thursday morning. Figuring that he wouldn’t really be able to drive more than twelve to fifteen hours at a time, Buck thought it’d be smart to find a hotel halfway there. He booked a room at an El Paso Hampton Inn, checked to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything else for the evening, and closed his laptop once more. 

After spinning around his loft a few more times, making sure he wasn’t missing anything, that all major articles and furniture were present or packed, and that there wasn’t any spot he hadn’t cleaned thoroughly, Buck figured now was as good a time as any to head to sleep. His shift started at five a.m., and considering it was the last one he’d have with the 118, he wanted to be sure he went out better than he started. 

As he trekked up the stairs to his bedroom and climbed under the blankets, Buck couldn’t help the anxious tremble that went through him at the thought of his shift tomorrow. He’d received an email from Chief Sayre a few hours after their meeting offering to accompany him when he told the rest of the 118 about the transfer, but Buck politely declined. Buck was counting on them taking it well with most, if not all of them, pleased to finally have him out of their hair. On the slim chance that some of them responded poorly, well, it wouldn’t really matter anyway because Buck was leaving regardless. 

He wasn’t counting on any of them being too broken up about it though. 

There was a small part of him that hoped at least Hen or Bobby would be upset about his leaving. Even though they both either contributed to or ignored his recent torture, Buck always believed some part of them still cared about him—still loved him in some way. Maybe they’d done everything that had because they really did want to teach him something? He always said firefighting was his life, the only thing he really ever cared about, but they didn't know exactly why that was. So, maybe this was just their way of trying to…

‘Knock it off!’ a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his uncle interrupted his mental thrashing. ‘That’s not how people treat their teammates or teach someone they care about, and you know it.’

Even if it might make him crazy for continuously listening to voices in his head, Evan knew this one was right. It would probably take him forever to overcome this—this constant belief that he deserved what he got—be it good or bad—but he told himself that was the reason he was moving to Austin. He was going to be with most of his real family that had never treated him that way, that always loved him, and truly made him better. 

Losing the 118 would be painful, but Bobby had it right the first time. 

This is not a family. 

So, Buck would go in tomorrow with his head held high, do his shift to the best of his ability, and then he’d say his goodbyes.

One last time.

For all the nerves coursing through him, Buck had a surprisingly good sleep. He’d managed to wrestle himself out of bed and dress for his day without thinking too hard about what he had to do later on. 

Since all his small appliances were packed up, he left his apartment a little earlier to grab coffee and a breakfast sandwich before making his way to the firehouse. 

He’d arrived and walked into the 118 as inconspicuously as possible, carrying his gym bag to his locker. After getting dressed for his shift, he looked around to make sure nobody was watching and quickly emptied his locker into the bag. Buck hadn’t kept much in the way of important things in there for months now, but he had a few photos and some training gear he didn’t want to leave behind. 

With that out of the way, he made his way up into the loft and noticed Bobby, Hen, and Eddie all seated around the couches cheerfully discussing an upcoming cookout. Chimney nodded to him from the kitchen, sad eyes peeking out from over his coffee cup. Buck simply walked behind him and squeezed his shoulder for a minute before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“Buckley! Check the ambulance and the trucks before you do anything else! Make sure all supplies are fully stocked and ready to go.”

Buck finished half his water bottle and acknowledged Bobby’s command. “Yes, sir.” He gave another small smile to Chimney before slipping quietly down the stairs. 

The rest of the day passed much the same as it usually did. Bobby gave him an order, Buck followed it, and somebody found something to criticize. Thankfully, however, Chim seemed to realize he’d be thinking about what he had to say to everyone later and did his best to keep the rest of the team as distracted as possible. He told stories about Maddie, shared a bunch of jokes Josh or Albert told at the last poker night, and played more than enough rounds of “What if…?” and “Would you rather…?” to last hours. 

The whole time, Buck barely said a word, remaining solidly locked inside his head trying to figure out how he was going to say goodbye to this team of people he’d believed for so long was his family. He also thought seriously about what Sayre had said, wondering if he should tell the team what their treatment had really done to him. And, in between his thinking, it seemed like the city of LA knew he’d need an easier time of it because there was only a handful of emergencies throughout the day, including one major housefire. 

There were, thankfully, no casualties. 

Halfway through his shift, TK had texted him “good luck” and to remind him that he was there for him, that no matter what happened with the 118 today, he had family waiting for him on the other end of all this. The small bit of love—not to mention the rainbow of heart emojis—from his cousin brought a smile to his face, and he didn’t even mind it when Bobby yelled at him to put his phone away and get back to mopping. 

Before Buck knew it, the emergencies were done, his chores were finished, and his last shift at the 118 was over. As he packed up in the locker room and started making his way back up to the loft, he took several deep breaths and tried not to throw up from nerves. “Just say what you have to, get it all out, and then leave. They can’t keep you here; it’s not up to them anymore,” he whispered to himself. 

When he crested the top of the staircase, he looked at Chimney sitting at the table with Bobby and the rest of the 118 and nodded to him, acknowledging it was time. Chim’s eyes got that somber look again, but he gave a reassuring smile that spoke volumes. 

Buck silently made his way to the head of the table and cleared his throat, getting the attention of the rest of his team. “Um…everyone? I—I have something I have to tell you.” 

“What, Buckley? Planning to sue us again?” Buck tried not to wince at Eddie’s jab or the way the man antagonistically smiled at his comment while sipping his coffee. 

Before he could reply, however, Chimney interfered. “Shut up, Eddie, and let him talk.”

The dark expression on Chimney’s face must’ve said a lot to the team because Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, and Bobby nodded to Buck and said, “What is it, Buck?” 

Part of Buck almost wanted to smile. It’d been months since the captain had referred to him by his nickname. But now, after so many months of not hearing it and only having his last name cruelly flung around in its place, the nickname just felt wrong. It was like it burned him to finally hear it again in the context of this situation. 

He took a deep breath, tightly gripped the strap of his bag resting on his shoulder and looked around the table. “I just wanted you to know that today was my last shift. I’ve formally resigned from the LAFD and the 118. I’ve already cleared out my locker and left all my equipment cleaned and ready for you to inventory. If you have any questions, Chief Sayre should be able to answer them for you. He has all the necessary paperwork for my resignation and transfer.” 

The remaining members of the 118—save Chimney—stared at him like he’d grown another head. Buck had previously considered the possibility it might be a slight surprise to them and gave them all a minute to process. Before he could open his mouth to say anything further, though, all hell broke loose.

“What do you mean this is your last shift?!” Hen.

“Buck, what are you talking about? You’re resigning?!” Bobby.

“Oh, that’s just great, Buckley. So, you sue us and don’t get exactly what you want so you just bail? Leave us in the lurch again?! There’s a damn surprise.” Eddie. 

“I—” Buck tried to respond, to answer even one of them, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. It was like his usual verbal barrage kicked up to ten. Bobby kept asking him what he could possibly be thinking, Hen asked where he thought he was going to go, and Eddie went off about how selfish he was to put them through what he had only to turn around and quit a few months later. 

With every second of their tirade that passed, Buck felt lower and lower until he thought it was a miracle the Earth hadn’t swallowed him whole. All three had stood up and their voices all seemed to get louder as they backed him up away from the table. They were closing in on him like walls, and even though he kept trying to pick his head up and respond, nobody would let him say anything. 

Buck had expected some reactions, but not a fight like this. It confused him. Why would they care so much now when they’d had nothing good to say about him for months? If anything, he was doing what they all really wanted. 

After several minutes of yelling, he seriously considered just giving up and walking out without so much as a goodbye when—

“EVERYBODY, SHUT THE HELL UP!” 

The shout, along with the slam of a fist, had every person’s jaws snapping closed and their eyes flying over to Chimney. Ironically, despite the anger dripping from his shout and his clenched hand still resting on the tabletop, Chimney still wore an expression of tense calm—poised, yet ready to strike. 

“Chimney?” Bobby, looking beyond shocked at his normally reserved paramedic, was the first to speak. 

“You heard me, Cap. All of you, shut the hell up.” Despite the disrespectful word choice, Chimney’s tone remained steady as he rose to his feet. “I’ve had it. I’ve had it with each and every one of you. I’ve sat here for months and watched him deal with all the mind games, the criticism, and the lies. You all drove him to this! And after all of it, you stand there pissed at Buck when you all are the ones who pushed him right out the door? No, I don’t think so. I’ve been quiet long enough, and Evan has heard more than enough from all of you. Now, you are all going to sit there and listen to what he has to say without another god damn word.” 

Nobody had ever heard Chimney speak that way, and it seemed the shock of that alone was enough to keep them quiet. Receiving a nod from his last remaining friend at the 118, Buck took a deep breath and tried to quickly force out what he wanted to say so he could get out of there. 

“He’s—he’s right. I can’t do this anymore, Captain Nash.” Focused as he was on a random spot on the table, Buck didn’t catch the visible wince on Bobby’s face when called him by his formal title. “I know I made mistakes, more than my share, with the lawsuit being the worst of it. I know I’m selfish and—and exhausting and it wasn’t fair what I did, but you have to understand. This house, this job, it’s everything I have. My entire life is—was—wrapped up in the 118. Besides Maddie, the 118 and the people in it were practically all I had. And for a while, I didn’t even have Maddie, mostly just this place. And, when it was t-taken from me, I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I was losing half myself if I lost this job, if I lost all of you.” 

Buck finally picked his head up and looked at his former teammates, the sorrow of their loss filling him again. His eyes stopped on Bobby, and he could almost imagine it was regret shining in the man’s eyes. “And the worst part was, Captain Nash, I trusted you. I believed you that you’d never lie to me, that you’d treat me with the dignity and respect of a captain who made me part of a team and also made me feel like one of his own. It felt so good to know I had someone who was both a captain and like a father—something I-I haven’t had in so long—on my side. But, after the way you lied to me before the suit, the way you’ve allowed Hen and Eddie and almost everyone else in this house treat me like I’m less than nothing, a moron, a person incapable of doing a job I care more for than even my own life? After the way you ignored the tests I passed, the records I set, every successful rescue I have to show for my skills? After I had my clots and still saved all those people during the tsunami—including your son,” he said, pointing at Eddie, before turning back to Bobby. “After you made me feel like I was worthless, like I was going mad, like everything I ever believed about myself and my identity was meaningless? I’ve realized you were right all along, Captain Nash.” Bobby tilted his head in confusion, seemingly prepared to respond, when Buck cut him off. “‘This is not a family’. And it’s ‘your house, your rules’. You let this happen; you let them all do this to me.” 

His sorrow had quietly morphed into a resigned anger the longer he talked, words coming out that he hadn’t planned but refused to stop—Captain Sayre’s advice singing in his head. And when Buck’s gaze pierced Eddie’s, he couldn’t help himself. “I didn’t want to leave, but you gave me no choice. I’ve given everything I have for this job, for all of you, and now, there’s just not anything left. I’ve got nothing else to give any of you.” 

It was as though all the sound, all the air, had been sucked out of the 118. No one spoke; no one breathed. It was like they’d all forgotten how. But Buck wasn’t finished yet. 

“I didn’t ask to be crushed by a ladder truck. I didn’t ask to have a pulmonary embolism. I didn’t ask to go through a tsunami. But I did go through all those things. And I made it. I worked, and I fought, and I lived, all so that I could come back to this job and all of you. Because despite all of you having lives outside the 118, this place and all the people in it were all I believed I had. At least, I did believe that; until somebody reminded me that I do have more to live for, that I do have real family that loves me, and wants me to be happy, and do what I love without taking everything from me or forcing me to question every step I take while doing it.” 

“So,” Buck said, picking up his bag from where it had dropped on the floor in the midst of his speech. “That’s where I’m going.” He looked at the people that used to be his friends, his team, but not his family—not really. They all had complex grimaces on their faces: Hen’s a mixture of guilt and sadness, tears pricking in the corners; Bobby looking like he was sifting through his brain, trying to find something to say; and Eddie, he managed to somehow look both furious and heartbroken at the same time. 

In another life, it might have made Buck quake with concern and a need to fix whatever had gone wrong for this man he cared so much for. But now, Buck didn’t have anything left. He was done. 

Turning to leave, he felt a soft hand grasp his shoulder, and he turned—surprised, yet not, to see Hen had stopped him. “Buckaroo, please. Don’t go. Let us fix this. We can fix this; we have to. You can’t just…” 

The look in her eyes, the tears on her cheeks, had Buck’s heart—what little he had left for the 118—breaking. He felt a tear run down his cheek before placing his hand over top of Hen’s. He held it there for a second before sliding it off him. “I’m sorry, Hen. I really am, more than I bet any of you could comprehend or want to believe. This…this was never what I wanted. But it’s too late. I have to go.” He squeezed her hand one last time before looking up at his former captain. “Thank you, Captain Nash, for the opportunity to learn what I could from you and this crew. I can only hope you’ll find a worthy replacement.” 

Buck looked over at Chimney, nodded to him, and simply said, “I’ll see you, Chim,” before he turned to go. As he got to the top of the stairs, he turned back one more time, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Meeting his eyes, Buck couldn’t decipher what he saw there, but it felt similar to how he felt being called “Buck” again; it felt like Eddie was burning somewhere deep inside his mind, too far down for anyone to reach. Inhaling deeply one last time, Buck looked at him, narrowed his eyes and said with as protective a tone as he could manage, “Take care of him, and watch out for yourself.” 

Shockingly, a tear fell from Eddie’s eye and after what felt like an eternity, he clenched his jaw and nodded to Buck, sharp and only once. And, knowing this was probably the last time he’d set foot in the 118 or see this crew—except Chimney—again, Buck allowed a small, watery smile to cross his face and he softly whispered to them all, “Stay safe.” 

And with that final wish, Buck quickly and quietly descended the steps and walked out of the 118 for the very last time.