Chapter Text
Yesterday is history,
tomorrow is a mystery
(Best Time, Helloween)
A searing jet of fire swept past Buck's face as he opened the door.
He hardly noticed it, his adrenaline was already spiking since the 118 had responded to the emergency call. When they arrived, the building was already in flames. Somewhere in there, there were still people.
“LAFD,” he yelled over the flames’ whirring and crackling. “Follow my voice!”
There was always hope, he kept telling himself as he forced his way forward. People were incredibly resilient. Maybe whoever lived here had found a hiding place, or maybe– Buck stopped, ignoring the heat and the danger of hesitation in such a situation. There was a faint sound above all those ominous noises, like a… cough?
“Fire rescue! If you hear me, make some noise!”
Buck’s voice almost cracked. The room was filled with smoke, he could barely see anything. Was that a table in front of him, or a shelf? They might be hiding behind it, he thought as he groped his way along, constantly shouting. His radio crackled.
“Buck, you're too far ahead, we can't see you anymore. You need to get out there, now!”
That was Chimney's urgent voice, the voice of his captain. Although he couldn't see him, Buck shook his head.
“I heard something,” he hastily replied, then called out again. He was so close, they should hear him, he couldn’t stop now.
“Building’s about to collapse, we can't get the fire under control. You have to get out immediately. Don't make me order you to, Buck. Be reasonable.”
“There’s somebody here,” Buck screamed into the radio. It was so hot now, it felt like it was melting in his hand, even through the gloves.
There. A hand, groping its way along the wall to the right. Buck's own hand trembled slightly as he pointed his flashlight in that direction.
“Over here! Yes, buddy, that's right, just keep following my voice!”
Buck also moved forward with cautious movements; it felt like wading through fog. A brief cough shook his chest. Of course Chimney was right, Buck knew that. But Bobby would’ve never… No, he implored himself. Don’t go there. He reached out and got hold of a hand, an arm; another rush of adrenaline electrified his nerves.
“I got you. I got you!”
It was a child, a curly-haired teenager with wide-open eyes and tear streaks running down her cheeks. She coughed again, doubling over in pain that shook her entire body. But she was alive, and he found her; Buck could hardly believe his luck. There was no time to dwell on such thoughts; the room was engulfed in flames that would consume them in a matter of seconds.
“We're getting out of here, okay?” he yelled, pushing the frightened girl toward the door. “Just keep going. We need to speed up a bit!”
Somehow, they made it to the next room, by now also filled with smoke; flames were beginning to eat through the ceiling. Fire was an ever-hungry beast, never sated. The entrance hall was close, Buck knew that, even though the smoke stung his eyes so badly that he could hardly see anything. He suspected the blurry rectangle before him to be the front door. It seemed infinitely far away. Yet behind it, there was the 118 waiting. The thought spurred him on.
“Firefighter Buckley, respond.” Chimney sounded pissed. Or worried. It was all a blur now.
“We're almost at the door,” Buck shouted into the radio. “Found a girl, we need—”
A crashing sound made him look up. Wooden beams, Buck thought. He should’ve known. He should’ve paid attention.
“Run!”
The door was very close now, he pushed the girl forward. Through the smoke, the emergency vehicle’s blue lights were the only things visible, dancing before Buck’s eyes. There was somebody stepping in, grabbing the girl, shouting something.
Then, the room collapsed.
━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━
“Open your eyes, kid. Nap time’s over.”
There was a very peculiar mix of worry and calm in the voice Buck heard. But that wasn't what was so surprising about it. Buck recognized that voice, though he hadn't heard it in a long time. In fact, he would never hear it again. Wishful thinking must have deceived his disoriented mind. Still, he opened his eyes, and still, he thought he was dreaming.
It was Bobby's face leaning over him: the same kind eyes, the same fatherly smile. Great, now he was imagining things... that wasn't fair to his actual captain, was it.
“Chim,” he croaked. “Did she make it out?”
The face above him wore a puzzled look. Bobby (definitely not Bobby) briefly glanced over his shoulder. Heavy steps approached, and Buck finally clocked that he was lying on the ground, that he must’ve been unconscious and that the second man, now looking at him, was actually Chimney. Which made no sense.
“We got the kid, she made it out thanks to you. Hen’s checking her over. Now let me have a look at you, will you?”
“You gave us a good scare,” Bobby added, “and don’t get your hopes up, we’re gonna talk about that move, Buck. But for now, let Chimney check you out.”
Buck’s brother-in-law was already squatting beside him, flashing a penlight into his eyes.While Buck’s pupils obeyed, his mind didn’t. What on earth had happened? He must have said it out loud, because Chimney's eyebrows knitted together.
“What happened is that you ran inside that building although Bobby told you not to. You’re lucky you found the girl. And–” He’d finished the examination, patting Buck on the shoulder and helping him up. “–almost unscathed at that, it seems. That fire was a beast.”
Buck’s stomach dropped at these words, like this was some weird kind of foreshadowing. No, more like a déjà-vu.
“It makes no sense,” he said. “Why would you examine me?”
Chimney frowned. “Told you, Hen’s with the girl…”
“Shouldn’t Eddie do that? I mean, you’re the cap.”
Chimney and Bobby – yes, he was still there, rooted in the background – exchanged a look.
“You're definitely going to First Presbyterian, you have at least a concussion. No arguing.”
Bobby (who couldn't actually be there) and Chimney both looked at him with that stern expression, as if he were a child who’d done something very stupid. And maybe that was true. Maybe he just was reckless and stupid and confused, and he needed a break.
“Sure,” Buck muttered, “might as well get my double vision checked.”
“You’re seeing double?” Chimney sounded somewhat alarmed as he flicked out his penlight again. “Your pupils look fine to me–” His eyes widened as Buck pushed his hand away.
“Yeah, I—I'm seeing Bobby standing there. Don’t make a big deal out of it, okay? And don’t tell anyone. I’ll be fine, gonna get my check-up, some rest… where’s Eddie anyway, he can take me to the hospital, I’ll send him back once we’re there.”
Slightly swaying, he rose to his feet, brushing soot off his gear. When he looked up again,Bobby was still there, next to Chimney now, both standing with their mouths agape.
“That’s it, I’m calling it. You’re going in the ambulance,” Bobby said.
“Nah, cap, that one’s occupied with the girl, we’d have to call reinforcements.”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it.”
“What? Why?” Buck protested, interrupting a conversation that surely was only in his head. “If you need Eddie so badly, let Ravi do the drive, we’re not even far from First Presbyterian and–”
“Buckaroo, you’ve hit your head hard because you seem to have forgotten that Eddie’s in Texas,” Chimney said patiently.
“Sure,” Buck sneered. “That’s as real as you talking to thin air and calling my imagination cap. I hit my head, fine, but none of this is real. Wait. Am I really talking to you right now? Maybe I’m still unconscious…”
Bobby stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Buck’s shoulder to interrupt his spiral of thoughts. He’d always known when and how to do that. Sadness mixed into Buck’s confusion. The subconscious part of his mind still seemed to want Bobby back so badly that hitting his head made him imagine the man. He seemed painfully real. The hand on his shoulder felt real, and Bobby's gaze was just as he remembered it. Everything was too good an illusion—the soot, the smell of fire and smoke, the sirens.
“You think I’m not real? That I’m not really here?” Bobby asked, sounding inappropriately intrigued. “I'm no expert, but is that normal? Never heard of that being a side effect of concussions.”
“Memory loss isn't unusual,” Chimney replied.
“Would explain him forgetting about Eddie, but I never went anywhere.”
Buck's short, uncheerful laugh sounded like a sob that made the other two men give him an astonished look.
“Let's just go to the hospital,” he said wearily.
No one objected.