Chapter Text
Buck had never been a religious person. He never saw Jesus or Satan as real figures—not out of opposition to religion, but simply because he hadn't been raised with it. His parents barely acknowledged his existence, treating him like an afterthought, so when he finally moved out, he had to build his sense of community.
The 118 had been dispatched to what was described as a "spiritual service." Buck wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but the building they stood in was unmistakably a church. After assessing the cause of the mass illness, he stepped outside to meet with his captain, awaiting his next orders amid the chaos.
“I’m coming, Jesus! I’m coming!” Sister Greta yelled from the top of the church’s metal cross sculpture that stood over 20 feet tall above the building.
“Oh God,” Hank said from beside Bobby who had already decided what to do next.
“Buck, I need you up in the air. Eddie - Ravi, I want you up on the roof to make sure it is stable. Hurry!” Bobby yelled to the team.
Once Buck was strapped in a harness and began to climb the firetruck’s ladder he approached Sister Greta and commanded her, “M’am, I am going to need you to stop climbing,” he yelled from where he was climbing.
“No, thank you, Satan,” Sister Greta said while climbing up the metal structure.
Buck used his walkie-talkie to communicate with his Captain. “ Cap, she thinks I am Satan,” he chuckled to himself and climbed up the last step.
Bobby didn’t care if this was a joke, “Tell her you are not,” he commanded Buck.
Up on the top of the metal structure, Buck stood feet away from her and said, “M’am I am not Satan. My name is Buck,” he said calmly, trying to get her to stop.
“Get thee behind me!” Greta yelled angrily before the metal cross structure began to shake from instability.
“Woah, oh my god,” Ravi said from below the metal structure where he was doing his assigned task.
Before Buck could reach for Greta’s hand, the metal structure let out a terrible groan. Bolts snapped. Beams twisted. The entire framework shuddered, trembling more violently than before. Greta gasped, her grip failing. Her fingers slipped from the bar she had clung to for dear life. Then, she fell.
She plummeted like a broken-winged bird, the wind rushing past her ears in a deafening roar. A scream barely had time to escape her lips before she hit the fire rescue air cushion below—a last-second salvation set up by the firefighters. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but she was alive.
Buck, still gripping the swaying structure, could only watch in horror as the wreckage beneath him groaned once more, louder this time, like a final warning. The crisp autumn air was thick with dust and the scent of crushed leaves. Time was slipping away. Then, without warning, the entire structure gave out beneath him with a deafening crack. Buck’s fingers scrambled for a hold, but there was nothing left to grasp. The world tilted, his stomach lurched, and before he could even shout for help, he was plummeting.
Branches snapped as he crashed through a tangle of fiery red and orange foliage, the brittle tree’s leaves breaking his fall but doing little to soften the impact. Pain shot through his limbs as he hit the ground, the world around him spinning. Dazed and breathless, Buck lay still, the distant sound of collapsing debris echoing through the cold evening air. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, and then— he recognized his head was hurting, everything went black seconds later.
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“I think we should tell Eddie,” Ravi said to his teammates while he was sitting in the trauma center of West Presbyterian's waiting room.
“I think that we should see what the surgeon says first,” Hen piped up from where she was sitting knowing that trauma wasn’t something you could mix with a best friend's absence.
Buck and Eddie were ‘best friends’ but Hen knew it was more than that. She just didn’t know what to do about them until someone made a move.
“I’m here! What did I miss? Did the doctor come out and say something yet?” Maddie came rushing in through the main doors holding onto a sleeping Jee that she didn’t have the heart to wake up from her nap.
Chimney stood up from the chair he was uncomfortably sitting in and took his daughter from his wife’s arms quickly so that she could sit down.
Moments before Bobby could speak about what happened to his pseudo-son’s fall, a doctor and a nurse came out from the ER to talk to the first responders. “I’m assuming this whole group is here for Evan Buckley?” the doctor said as he held onto his folder.
“I’m his sister, Maddie. This is the firefighter team he works with and his captain. How is he doc?” Maddie stood up from the chair she just sat in and rushed to the doctor’s side.
The doctor looked at her sympathetically, his expression a mixture of concern and professionalism, before finally addressing the group. His voice was calm but carried an unmistakable weight.
“Hi, Maddie. My name is Doctor Arnold. I’m Evan’s doctor on call.” He paused briefly as if choosing his words carefully, before continuing. “Would you mind stepping into my office for a moment? I need to discuss your brother’s condition with you.”
His gaze flickered toward the large group seated in the waiting area, their anxious faces reflecting exhaustion and worry. The sterile hospital lights cast a dim glow over the room, highlighting the tension that filled the air. The sound of hushed whispers and the occasional beeping of medical equipment only added to the uneasy atmosphere.
Maddie swallowed hard, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. She had been bracing for this conversation since she arrived, but hearing the doctor’s hesitant tone made her pulse quicken. She glanced around at the familiar faces of friends and colleagues who had gathered, all waiting for news on Evan—Buck.
She could feel every set of eyes on her, silently urging her forward. Taking a shaky breath, she nodded and pushed herself to her feet. “Of course,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Dr. Arnold gave her an understanding nod and gestured for her to follow him down the hall. With each step, Maddie’s heart pounded louder in her chest. Whatever he had to say, she just hoped she was strong enough to hear that her brother was in one piece and breathing.
“Is he breathing on his own?” was Maddie’s first question to the doctor once she had sat down in a chair in front of his desk.
“Yes, he is. That’s the good news,” the doctor sitting at his desk paused to hand her a tissue since she began tearing up.
It was her pregnancy hormones and also the fact that a serial killer almost killed her and now her brother was in the hospital after falling from a building structure. Chimney offered to go in the office with her for moral support but she refused his offer, and let him stay with their sleeping daughter.
“What’s the bad news, doc?” Maddie looked around the room and saw all the detailed images of brain injuries that were medical related.
“At the moment, he isn’t speaking to anyone—not even the nurse who carefully drew his blood earlier. He has remained silent ever since he was given his possible diagnosis after asking us what had happened multiple times to the point he got a headache from talking,” the doctor began to say as Maddie blew her nose into a tissue.
“The news was undoubtedly a lot to process for firefighter Buckley. Thankfully, the tests confirmed that he does not have a concussion, which is a relief. However, the fall caused significant damage to both of his cochleas, the delicate structures in the inner ear responsible for converting sound waves into electrical signals that the brain interprets as hearing,” he continued while Maddie held onto the chair’s armrest tightly.
“What are you saying, doc?” she sniffled while holding onto her belly.
Doctor Arnold felt bad for her but was just doing his job, unfortunately.
“This type of injury can have a profound impact on his ability to perceive sound, and right now, he is likely coming to terms with what this means for him moving forward. Understandably, he needs time to absorb everything, and we’re giving him the space he needs while ensuring he has the support and care necessary to navigate this difficult moment. My team is going to have an audiologist come in and test his hearing when he is more stable and awake. The next step after we get his hearing prognosis is to determine if he will need hearing aids or not.” Dr. Arnold said while showing Maddie all the scans they did of Buck’s brain and where the cochlear of his ears was damaged.
Maddie was still in shock and holding her baby bump. She didn’t know what she was going to tell Chimney or Eddie.
“So, he has hearing loss?” she said slowly but surely since she was a nurse and knew her medical language.
The doctor nodded his head and pulled out another folder that showed what a normal cochlear looked like in-ears versus Buck’s damaged ones.
"I am most concerned about his ears," the doctor said, furrowing his brow as he reviewed the chart. "However, his other injuries include a bruised back, a sprained leg, and a broken arm. These will heal in due time if properly taken care of with ample rest and physical therapy. The bruising on his back and limbs is extensive, but with patience and the right care, the swelling and discoloration will subside. He’s pretty banged up from the fall—cuts, scrapes, and deep bruises cover much of his body—but nothing appears life-threatening beyond the concern for his ears. A good shower will wash away the dried blood and dirt, and over time, his body will gradually recover. As long as he follows the prescribed treatment plan, he should regain full mobility." Doctor Arnold said while opening another folder with his treatment and recovery plan in it.
Maddie’s heart was breaking faster than it ever had before. Her brother’s entire life was firefighting. Now, he lost Eddie’s contact, most of his hearing, and possibly his job.
“Can I see him?” her voice cracked and forgot that she 118 and Bobby Nash needed to hear all of this too.
“Yes, I’ll have a nurse take you back when you are ready. Two people are allowed in the room at a time. However, he might not want to see people right now because of his headache and overstimulation,” the doctor said while letting Maddie have another tissue box to keep.
“Can you tell everyone waiting in the waiting room Buck’s condition? I don’t think I can,” Maddie said softly and made a mental note to call Eddie.
“Yes, I can. When you are ready, a nurse will take you back to his room,” Doctor Arnold closed the folders in front of her and stood up from behind her desk to get her a cup of water from a dispenser in the corner of the office.
Her heart was struggling to keep beating and her breathing was unsteady. She couldn’t tell the fire family about this. But she needed to.