Chapter Text
When Buck left home, it was a rushed decision. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he had a high school diploma and enough street smarts to make it as far from his father as possible.
Keeping in touch with Maddie was hard, but he had managed what he could. He had a prepaid phone with limited everything, and she seemed to be starting a new life without anyone from her family. She probably never knew the full extent of what their father did, so Buck didn’t blame her for leaving them behind, but part of him still couldn’t help but feel abandoned. Her boyfriend turned fiancé was an ass, and Buck’s words of distaste went in one ear and out the other.
He ended up traveling with a friend, and after leaving the country, he lost contact with Maddie.
He’d gone to Canada and even Europe, but his longest stay anywhere was in South America. He was there long enough to work, but after a fall out with his friend, he headed back to the U.S. to try and really get a move on with his life.
He got back in contact with Maddie at twenty-two, and he remembers his dad calling on his twenty-third birthday, probably having gotten ahold of his new number from her. It’d been five years since Buck had left his home town in the dust, and his father merely asked him how he was. Buck ended up responding curtly to his father and declined the money that was being offered.
That was one of the things that had always thrown him off. Buck’s dad could be a caring man. He supplied Buck with almost everything he needed for school and sports, but he was also abusive, and the degree to which he was abusive had slowly increased over the years. It took Buck a long time to understand how wrong some of what his dad did was.
Buck never gets a call from his mom, but he isn’t surprised. She’d always been indifferent about the things that went on under her roof unless it involved Maddie. But Maddie had been out of the house for college by the time Buck was in his early years of school and had apparently taken all of his mother’s love with her.
He never blamed Maddie for that, either, but it makes it harder when at twenty-four years old, he stopped hearing from Maddie altogether. The number he had was disconnected, and neither he nor his parents had the new one.
The only time his parents reached out to him after that was when they were asking after Maddie.
He stopped hearing from them a year before she showed up in his apartment, and he changed his number to make sure it stayed that way.
Days like these are the ones where he almost wishes she never showed up at all.
In hindsight, Buck should’ve seen this day coming. He knew that Maddie was close to their parents, unlike himself, so he never thought twice about Maddie asking for his father’s number. At first, she’d kept her location from anyone from her past, aside from Buck. But Doug was gone, and now there was no reason she couldn’t reach out to them or anyone else she used to talk to.
He debates lying and saying he doesn’t have it, but knowing that his parents would never harm her is a reassurance, and he gives her the number. He refuses to be the reason that Maddie goes the rest of her life without her loved ones.
She doesn’t seem to notice the hesitation, though, probably because Buck can’t hide his emotions for shit, but he’s pretty good at keeping a level tone when talking over the phone.
She thanks him, and he goes along with the rest of the day, almost as if nothing had happened.
The next morning, she calls to tell him their mother is dead, has been for a few months now, and their dad has a heart condition. It’s not the update he was looking for— doesn't really know what he was thinking he might hear— but it’s one he can live with.
He finds himself almost happy that one connection from his childhood is gone, and another on its way. Yet there is still an uncertain emotion that lingers around him. He knows he’s not sad about her passing, but he wonders if maybe a part of him had hoped to one day get closure as to why she treated him the way she did. That thought— not knowing— might haunt him more than his mother could ever care to if possible.
—
When Buck walks into the fire station that morning, he’s surprised to find Chimney talking to Bobby in hushed tones. Something must be exceptionally surprising because Buck hears the normal-volume, “Are you sure?” from Bobby. His eyebrows are raised and Buck looks away just in time to miss the way the captain nods at him.
Chimney looks back at Buck in surprise, too. “Maybe he’s in denial about it?” he suggests to Bobby.
“Possible,” the captain agrees. “But I learned not to assume much about anyone because we can’t really know what’s up unless they tell us.”
In the locker room, Buck greets Eddie with his normal level of enthusiasm, and the two strike up a conversation about a date night later in the week. When Chimney enters the room, Eddie’s own mood falters when he sees the looks that Chim gives Buck. The man makes a face as if to ask Chimney what’s going on, but Chimney just shakes his head.
This happens throughout the rest of the day, too. Chimney watches Buck like a hawk as if waiting for something to happen, and eventually, Buck catches on.
They’re sitting down for lunch after a rather easy call when Buck confronts him about it.
“Okay,” Buck calls to him, managing to catch the attention of the rest of the team, too. “Chim, man, what gives? You’ve been staring at me all day like I kicked your puppy.”
Hen and Eddie laugh, mostly unaware of the sad look on Chim’s face. Bobby doesn’t seem to miss it, though.
“I’m just making sure you’re okay, Buckaroo. Is that such a bad thing?” Hen and Eddie’s laughter dies down after that.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” Buck questions.
Eddie admits that he wants to know, too. Buck has seemed fine all day.
“C’mon, Buck,” Chimney gestures to him with his hand. “You gotta know your sister tells me everything.” The team, aside from Bobby passing out some plates full of salad, is quiet and listening in. He knows the other few firefighters not apart of their team aren’t trying to be nosey from their spots at the billiards table, but they’re not making the idle chatter they previously were, either.
“Okay, so you know,” Buck throws out. “Am I supposed to stop functioning just because someone died?”
The team doesn’t miss the bitter bite to his words, and Eddie shifts uncomfortably in his seat, realizing this is the first time that his boyfriend hasn’t told him about something seemingly important in his life.
Chimney ignores Buck’s harshness and responds again with soft tones. “Look, I know it’s not my business—”
“It’s definitely not,” Buck retorts.
“—but you are my friend, and I have to wonder, Buckaroo.”
Buck clenches at his fork and stabs at his salad with more force than necessary.
“Buck,” Chim goes on after some silence, “are you really telling me that your mom dying isn’t upsetting you at all?”
Buck doesn’t miss the heavy breath of air that Hen releases or the other firefighters vacating their game to squeeze by them and leave the loft altogether.
“I guess it would be if she were ever really a mother to me at all,” he replies.
“Buck,” Hen chimes in, “I know just how much a mom can suck, but she’s still your mom.”
And ain't that a phrase that never ceased to bug the hell out of him.
Buck shakes his head with a harsh smile on his lips. “Look, guys, I appreciate the concern, but Maddie and I had completely different relationships with our parents. You guys forget she was already in college by the time I was starting elementary school.” Chimney looks a second from adding more, but Buck cuts him off with, “Please, guys. No more questions. I would really rather forget it already.”
His friends and boyfriend are speechless, questions dying on the tips of their mouths. It creates for a few awkward moments, but soon enough they’re back to their regularly scheduled program.
Buck only wishes that were the end of it.
Maddie calls the next day while he’s got the day off. Buck’s half expecting it because he has no doubt that Chimney talked to her after that display.
“Hey, Evan,” she greets, and for a minute it sounds too much like his mom. For years he’d told people to call him by his nickname because he couldn’t stand to be called by his given name. Significant others always seemed to want to call him by ‘Evan’ despite the request, so he’d let that be, but with old feelings swirling around in his head, he can barely stand it. He’s thankful that Eddie never called him by his first name and hadn’t continued that trend.
He finally returns the greeting. “What’s up, Mads?”
“Maybe you should tell me.” Her words aren’t mean, but rather they’re soft like she’s talking to a scared child. Maybe that’s exactly what he is. He thought he had left that part of his life behind him, but now, he’s not so sure.
He puts the phone on speaker and sets it on the table so he can move around to clear up his kitchen of the used dishes on the countertops, emptying the sink so he can fill it up with soap and water.
“Look, Mads, I know you think I’m probably just in denial, but it’s like I told Chimney. Our relationships with mom and dad were different.”
“Yeah,” she laughs lightly, “he made that point pretty clear on your behalf.”
Buck shrugs, not caring that she can’t see it through the phone. He picks up the knife and cutting board next, intending to place them in the sink, but his sister’s next words startle him.
“Just uh… try not to be so blasé when Dad visits,” she says, which shocks Buck enough to drop both of the things he’s holding. For the smallest moment, he’s frozen, and he can’t breathe.
How would his dad act? Would his dad be the caring father Buck tries to remember or the strict and scary man he tries to forget?
He curses as he comes back to reality. The large steak knife just barely misses his toes as he jumps back, but the wooden cutting board bounces and smacks into his shin. Buck hisses and hears Maddie shouting in the background.
“I’m fine,” he bites out through clenched teeth, though they’re clenched more out of anger. “Look, I’m busy, Maddie. Can I call you back? Or maybe you can just text me details?”
“Sure,” Maddie responds. She knows very well that Buck likely won’t call back later. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Buck doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, though she can’t fathom why.
She hangs up without saying goodbye. On any other occasion, he might feel bad about it, but he knows he wasn’t being the nicest to her to start with.
Standing in the middle of his apartment, he’s not sure how the hell he’s going to deal with his dad. So much has changed about Buck since he last saw him— since he ran away. He never talked about anything personal in his phone calls, and the money he offered was never enough to let him forget the pain of forceful hits raining down on his body. His dad doesn’t know about his near-death experience. He doesn’t know about the relationships he had with Abby or Ali, and he sure as hell doesn’t know about his current relationship with Eddie.
Buck doesn’t want to know how his dad will react if he finds out, assuming Maddie hasn’t told him already.
His phone chimes, signaling that a text came in, and when he opens it, he sees that it’s his father’s flight and hotel information from Maddie.
In two days— because of course, that rich asshole would get one of the earliest flights out, no matter the cost— his dad will be in LA.
This will be quite the shit show.