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Buck’s priority was his daughter. And moving far away from her wicked grandparents and the memories of the mother she’d never met and the traces of her deadbeat uncle and absent aunt… It just seemed best to leave.
They’d lasted three years this way. But when Beth was diagnosed with leukemia not a month after her third birthday, and the family secret came out in a whirlwind of tears and gaslighting and blame, Buck just… he took his daughter and left.
Captain Nash and the 118 accepted him onto their team with open arms. Hen, Chimney, and Eddie welcomed him into the fold. The transition seemed effortless.
Despite this camaraderie, Buck would always decline invitations to parties, get-togethers, after work hangs. He couldn’t wait to get home to his daughter, and he was wary to bring her anywhere that wasn’t the doctor’s. She was so young, her immune system wasn’t strong enough to endure that level of interaction, not to mention with the cancer? Her immune system was so underdeveloped, and a simple disease could be the thing to take her. Buck couldn’t risk it. So, when he was invited out, he denied every time, citing getting home to Beth. The expressions and comments that elicited confused him, but he shrugged it off and left.
As he left the locker room now, he heard Eddie muttering to the others, “Beth seems to take up a lot of his time.”
Chimney responded, “I know. She’s got him on a tight leash.”
Buck was about to turn around and say something when his phone vibrated with a text from Beth’s caretaker, Carla.
Do you know when you’ll be home? Beth is asking for you.
Buck rushed to his car, typing back a quick response that he was on his way. He got back to the house quickly and made his way inside. Immediately, his arrival was met with squeals and an energetic little girl tossing herself against his legs in a hug.
“Dada!” Beth yelled into his knees.
“Beth-Beth!” Buck returned. He hoisted her up in his arms, sitting her on his hip, and smacked a loud kiss on her chubby cheek. “How’s my girl?”
Beth pressed herself tight against Buck’s chest and began a ramble about her very exciting 24 hours with Carla. Buck listened intently as she spoke; he only understood a portion of it, since a large majority was her stumbling through words and a fair bit of baby babble, but Buck still listened to her voice and how excited she was. It was one of his favorite parts of coming home.
Carla got her things ready to go, then came and pressed a kiss to each of their cheeks. “I’m off, y’all, but you two have a good day together, okay?”
Buck nodded. “Thank you, Carla, you’re a godsend.”
She chuckled and sent him a wink. “I’ll be sure to add that to my resume.”
Buck grinned back at her, and walked her to the door with Beth in his arms. She fiddled with his collar as they said goodbye to the caretaker, and then it was just the two of them. He walked her back to the couch and sat down with her in his lap. Despite knowing without a doubt what she’d say, he asked her, “What do you wanna watch?”
“Moana!” She yelled, delighted. Buck chuckled, entirely unsurprised by her answer, and the two got comfortable on the couch as the opening to the movie played. Beth watched the movie with rapt attention, and Buck let the very familiar scenes and Beth’s little sounds and noisy breathing lull him to sleep.
***
Buck carried Beth into the children’s hospital. Despite only being in LA for roughly a month and a half, they knew their way around the place quite well. He carried her into the elevator and hit the right button to take them up to the oncology ward where her doctor had her office.
“Mr. Buckley,” she greeted him with a grin, then turned her smile to his daughter. “And hello, Beth.”
Beth waved at Dr. Jackson then buried her face in Buck’s neck. Dr. Jackson gave Buck a little smile then led them into her office. Buck let Beth play with the little toys she had set out for children, then sat in one of the chairs for parents. The doctor sat in her own chair and opened Beth’s folder.
“Well, I’ll just cut right to the chase,” she said. “We’ve started the chemo, but it hasn’t made a difference. While her white blood cell count has not increased, it hasn’t decreased.”
Buck swallowed nervously. “So, uh, what are our options?”
“I think we should adjust the treatment.” She looked through her folder. “We are currently on a rather light treatment, but I think a more aggressive treatment is what we need to really reduce her white cell count.”
Buck bit his lip and turned to look at his daughter. She was playing with that looping-metal-rod-and-wood-bead toy that seemed to be in every children’s doctor’s office in the country. She had her curly dirty blonde hair back in a messy braid, though a good portion of it had gone astray. She pushed it away from her face and moved the beads across the rods with extreme focus.
“What’ll happen with the more aggressive treatment?”
Dr. Jackson sighed. “Probable hair loss. More nausea and vomiting, more fatigue and lethargy, more emotional, decreased appetite. Things like that. More extreme symptoms than what we’re seeing already.”
Buck watched Beth. She brushed her hair out of her face with her little palm, running her fingers over the birthmark which was identical to Buck’s own. And then, she looked up at him and smiled.
Beth was the most important person in the world to him. This treatment would make her miserable. But it could also save her.
“When can we start?”
***
Buck knew everyone could tell he was distracted, but he couldn’t quite get himself to focus entirely on the tasks before him, not when he had so much on his mind. His daughter was dying. Just like his brother died. The brother he didn’t even know he fucking had.
“Buck,” Eddie stressed like it was definitely not the first time he said his name. “What’s going on with you?”
My daughter is dying and I was apparently born to save a brother I didn’t even know I had who died of the same disease my daughter has. Telenovelas weren’t as dramatic as his life. “I don’t know, man,” Buck answered with a shrug. “Just a lot on my mind.”
“Well, focus up,” Bobby said as they arrived at their call. “We’ve got people counting on us.”
“Yes, Captain,” Buck muttered as they all made their way out of the truck.
The call went by in a blur. Eventually, Bobby told him to get back in the truck as they finished up. Buck felt extremely guilty about it, but he didn’t know what else to do. Once he got off this shift, he was taking his daughter to her first appointment with the new chemo, and he knew it would wreck her. How was he supposed to focus?
It was 6 am by the time the team got back on the truck and was heading back to the station. They were all suspiciously silent as Buck checked his phone every thirty seconds as if there was anything there that he’d need to know. Beth was sleeping, Carla was probably just waking up if she wasn’t still asleep, as well. Beth knew that her chemo was changing, but to her, it wasn’t anything to stress about. Well, no more than her regular chemo stressed her.
His baby girl was going to lose her hair. She was going to be constantly vomiting and sick and in pain and miserable and there was nothing Buck could do to take it away. There was fucking nothing Buck could do to take it away.
Eddie nudged Buck with his elbow. “You coming?”
Buck looked around, surprised to see they were back in the station. He got off the truck to find Bobby standing there, waiting for him. “Buck, come to my office once you’re out of your gear.”
Buck nodded nervously and stripped out of his PPE, then made his way to Bobby’s office. Bobby was sitting behind his desk and gestured for Buck to sit in one of the remaining chairs. “Buck,” Bobby said carefully, “You seem to have been distracted all shift. What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Captain, it won’t happen again.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Bobby leaned forward on his elbows and fixed Buck with a concerned, calculating look. “I’m worried about you, Buck. What’s going on?”
The idea of spilling his guts was tempting. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop. He knew he was one rant away from a breakdown, from a full-blown panic attack, and that was the last thing Beth needed.
“Just… some stuff with Beth.”
Bobby nodded. “I know how that is.” He seemed to consider his words before he said, “Just make sure your girl doesn’t get in the way of your job.”
“My girl?”
Bobby waved at the door. “You’re free to go. Head out early, get home.”
“Seriously?”
Bobby nodded again and pulled his paperwork toward himself. “Yes. Just try to keep your head on a bit better next shift, okay?”
I make no promises. “I’ll do my best, sir.”
“That’s all I ask,” Bobby said with a gentle smile. He gestured to the door again. “Go on home. Talk to Beth. I’m sure everything will be okay.”
If only. “Thank you, sir.”
He practically dashed out of the station and drove home, anxious to get to his daughter. He let himself into the house, finding Carla sitting on the couch with a book. She looked up, surprised at his entrance. “What are you doing here so early?”
“Captain let me go,” he answered. “I was distracted, so he let me leave early.”
Carla nodded and slid her bookmark between the pages before putting her book to the side. “You’re nervous about the new treatment?”
Buck shrugged and sat down on the other end of the couch. “Carla, she’s so little and she’s already going through so much. And this is gonna change her so much. I mean, what if it doesn’t work? What if she’s so miserable that she wants to give up?”
“Buckaroo, you’re gonna run yourself in circles with the what-ifs,” Carla said. “You will drive yourself crazy. You don’t know how it’ll impact her. You don’t know what it’ll do, but you do know that her current treatment isn’t working so it’s time to try something else. Right?”
Hesitantly, Buck nodded. “I know. I’m just… There are so many decisions to make and if I make the wrong one, I could lose my daughter.”
“You have a team of doctors and nurses on your side to guide you. And you have your extensive research that you’re always doing. And you have me.”
Buck nodded again, this time more confident. “I know. I’m just worried about her.”
“The price of being a parent,” Carla said with a sympathetic smile. She patted his knee then stood with a light groan. “I’m gonna head out. Give her a kiss from me, okay? Text or call if you need anything—and I mean it, Buck. You need anything—groceries, a second set of hands, whatever—you call me, understand?”
Buck smiled, relieved, and stood to hug her. “I understand, Carla. Thank you. For everything.”
She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy to help, you know how much I love you two.”
Buck walked her to the door, and with one last promise that he’d call her for anything, she went on her way. Buck went to his room and curled up, hoping to get a bit of sleep before Beth woke up.
But sleep didn’t come. He was anxious about all the possibilities, overwhelmed by all the thoughts swirling through his head. Already near another panic attack, Buck picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts, hitting one before he could really think of his options.
“Hello?”
Buck winced at the exhaustion in Eddie’s voice. “Shit, you were sleeping, weren’t you? I’m—“
“Buck.” Buck snapped his jaw shut at Eddie’s tone. He sounded wide awake now. “What’s wrong?”
Buck honestly didn’t know what to say. “I’m scared, Eddie. There’s so much going on with Beth, and—“ He sighed. “Can I ask you something?”
Eddie sounded a bit reluctant as he said, “Sure. But you should know, I’m not very good with relationships. I mean, my wife left my son so she could get away from me.”
Buck pulled a face, confused as all hell, before he said, “Uh, no, I just… How do you handle Christopher’s CP? I mean, he’s got physical therapy and surgeries and stuff and the possibilities of bad things and… how do you handle all of that? Especially all on your own?”
Eddie was silent for a moment. Just when Buck was about to apologize for asking such a question, Eddie spoke. “I honestly don’t know. Sometimes it doesn’t really occur to me. Sometimes it’s all I can think about. I mean, I’m never really worried about the CP itself, y’know? On normal days, I don’t even really think about it. But on the days he has more trouble with his mobility, or he has a doctor’s appointment, or he gets sick, I get a little overwhelmed. But I guess it’s all about compartmentalization. His CP itself isn’t something to worry about, it’s just a part of him. It’s the things that come with it that make me worried, y’know? The mobility, the surgeries, the impact it can have when he gets sick, the way others may see him. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, it does.” But it didn’t help. Because Eddie was right; Christopher’s CP in and of itself was not a concern as much as the things that come with it and the possible effects. But the cerebral palsy itself was just a disability, not an illness. Beth’s leukemia? That was an illness. That, at the very basic concept, was worrisome. They weren’t the same thing and couldn’t be compared. He was about to go into his fears about Beth when he heard her little voice calling from her bedroom. “Hey, Beth’s up, I gotta go.”
A weird tone came to Eddie’s voice as he said, “Uh, y-yeah, okay. Have a good day, Buck.”
“I’ll try,” Buck said, voice trembling. He ended the call and made his way to Beth’s room, opening the door to find her sitting up in her bed, entertaining herself in a way Buck could never fathom as she methodically poked her duvet. She turned to him and her face positively lit up at the sight.
“Dada!”
Buck couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. He moved into her room and sat down on her bed, gathering her into his arms. “Good morning, sweet girl.”
“Dada,” she said again, softer, but just as happy.
“I’m here,” Buck answered.
They stayed like that for a bit, just holding each other in her room, sitting on her pink bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals and toys. God, Buck loved this little girl more than he’d ever loved anything in his life.
“Are you ready for the day, meatball?”
Beth giggled and nodded, though she was a bit subdued. She always was on chemo days.
Buck kissed the top of her head and caressed a hand over her hair, her curls tangled from sleep. “Let’s do this,” he said seriously.
And Beth, in all the seriousness a three-year-old could muster, repeated, “Let’s do this!”
“Hey, Buck,” Chimney called from his locker. “You comin’ to Cap’s this weekend?”
Buck sighed and shook his head. “Beth hasn’t been feeling well, so I’m gonna stay with her.”
Chimney nodded in understanding. “We’ll miss you.”
Buck offered him a smile and slipped out of the locker room, almost walking into Eddie.
“Shit, sorry,” Buck muttered, trying to ignore Eddie’s warm hands on his shoulders as he steadied him.
“No problem,” Eddie said with a little smile. “I should’ve looked where I was going.”
Buck shrugged. While he was desperately trying to think of something to say (that wasn’t asking the man on a date), Eddie said, “So, you comin’ to Cap’s?”
Buck shook his head with a remorseful grin. “Beth is sick, I’m gonna be taking care of her.”
Eddie got this closed-off expression as he nodded, almost like he was trying to mask frustration. Buck didn’t really understand; Eddie had a kid, too, why did he seem so angry that Buck couldn’t go?
“Well, I hope she feels better soon.”
Buck smiled. “Thanks, man.” He clapped Eddie on the shoulder and made his way to his car, berating himself on the way. Why was he so damn awkward?
***
Having a toddler who was still reeling with the effects of chemo was never easy, and Buck was at the end of his goddamn rope.
Beth was either sleeping, vomiting, or crying, and Buck would have gladly stabbed himself in the chest if it took away her seemingly perpetual misery. She refused to eat, which wasn’t exactly uncommon for toddlers or cancer patients, but that didn’t make it any less bad. She would burst into tears at any point in time, crying out in her discomfort. The only thing Buck could do was hold her in his arms, walk around with her or sit in the rocking chair until she fell asleep against his chest.
By the time the next shift came, Buck felt guiltily relieved. He hated that he had to pass Beth onto Carla, and he hated even more that he was glad to leave and get away from it. It was clear that Beth found comfort in his presence and embrace, and Buck knew that, and yet he was glad to leave? Plus, Beth had to have her first chemo appointment without him since they were more frequent now. And he was glad to be away from it? What kind of terrible father was he?
Needless to say, Buck was feeling pretty damn lousy as he changed into his uniform. He barely slept all weekend, and he’d been worried all morning about Beth’s appointment without him and her terrible reactions to the chemo, and, just, fuck his baby was miserable and he could do nothing about it except be there and he wasn’t there and he was relieved. He was a goddamn monster.
“Buck, you okay?” Buck groaned in answer, and Eddie just chuckled. “I take it your weekend taking care of Beth didn’t go well?”
Buck sighed sadly. “She’s miserable and there’s nothing I can do and I just—“ He sighed again and dropped onto the bench dejectedly. “I feel terrible about it. But I’m relieved I don’t have to be there anymore. She’s got an appointment today, and she’s never gone without me, but I honestly can’t even find it in myself to wish I was there because I don’t. She’s just… so upset all the time. And I can’t fix it.”
“I can see how that would be frustrating,” Eddie said softly, much more sympathetic than he was before, and more than Buck deserved. “But everyone needs a break. She can handle herself for one day, right?”
Could she? Could she handle a day with her dad?
“Look,” Eddie said, “I understand your frustration and your exhaustion. It sounds like a lot. But you can’t help her if you’re exhausted, too. Take the time away from her to get some rest when you can, and then when you get back to her, if she’s still not feeling well, you’ll be ready to be there.”
Buck nodded sadly. “I just hate that I can’t be there. She’s my baby girl, y’know?”
Eddie screwed his face up in distaste. “I do not. But good luck with that.”
Eddie clapped him on the shoulder and walked out. Buck watched him go, confused, but let it go. He finished getting changed and followed Eddie out to Bobby, where he was giving the morning debrief.
“Buck, you look like hell,” Hen whispered once Buck arrived.
He snorted. “Thanks.”
“No, seriously.” She turned to him and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead; he was too tired to push her away. “No fever, but man, you look dead on your feet. Are you sure you should be here?”
“Honestly?” He asked. “No. But I can’t go home. I just… I don’t know.”
“Well, I think you can ask Bobby to be man behind,” Chim said from beside Hen. “Get some rest, do some chores, have an easy shift, go home.” He shrugged at Buck’s offended expression. “Beth still sick?”
Buck sighed heavily. “I’m starting to wonder if there will ever be a time she won’t be sick.”
Chimney rolled his eyes. “You’re being dramatic, Buckaroo. Just give it time.”
“You sure she’s just sick and not, y’know…” Hen raised her eyebrows pointedly. Buck had absolutely no damn clue what she meant, and he honestly had no patience for it.
“No, I don’t know, so leave it alone.”
Hen and Chimney exchanged a loaded look, but said nothing more. Bobby finished the debrief and the rest of the teams broke away, leaving just the five of them left.
“Buck, you look like death warmed over,” Bobby said bluntly.
Buck sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I look like hell, I feel like hell, Beth is sick, she’s got an appointment I can’t take her to, life sucks, we got it.”
“Buck should be man behind,” Chimney blurted, like he was going to get in trouble. Buck glared at him but didn’t reply.
Bobby gave him a calculating look, then nodded. “Just this shift, Buck. It’ll be good for you. Besides, everyone is man behind at some point. Might as well do it when you obviously need a nap.”
“Can I take a nap?”
Bobby shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’ve got bunks for a reason.”
Buck was about to excuse himself then, even though he knew he was too worried to get any real sleep, when he was interrupted by a little voice shouting, “Dada!”
Buck whirled around, lighting up. “Beth-Beth!”
She threw her arms out in front of her and waddled toward him. “Dadadadadadada—“
“BethBethBethBethBethBethBeth—“
Buck waddled toward her, arms out in similar fashion, and they met in the middle where Buck swooped her into his arms. Beth giggled and snuggled in close. It was the first time in days that Buck saw her smile, let alone heard her laugh. He couldn’t help the tears pricking at the backs of his eyes, and if one look at Carla meant anything, she understood just as well as he did.
“What are you two doing here?”
Carla shrugged with a bittersweet smile. “She wanted her dad before her next appointment.”
Buck nodded and looked down at his daughter. “You’re a little scared, aren’t you?”
Beth nodded sagely. “The pinch.”
“The pinch,” Buck agreed. “You’re worried about the pinch? And you don’t feel good after, huh?”
She shook her head and played with the buttons of Buck’s shirt as a distraction. “Not coming, Dada?” She asked softly in her little voice. She sounded so sad, and she was so tiny, and she’d been so miserable and Buck was so damn tired. He didn’t think he could be blamed for the tears filling his eyes at an all too rapid pace.
“No, sweet girl, I’m sorry. I have to stay here.”
“Why?”
Buck couldn’t honestly give her a good answer. What explanation could he possibly give that may make sense to a three-year-old?
Just then, Bobby stepped forward and told her, “Beth, sometimes grown-ups have work. And your dada takes care of people when he works, and makes sure the whole city is safe.”
Beth gasped. “Like a superhero?”
Bobby smiled fondly at the little girl and nodded. “Like a superhero.”
“Dada, you’re a superhero?” She bounced in his grip with a little burst of energy. “Dada’s a superhero!”
Buck laughed, and no one mentioned how teary and sad the sound was. “Everyone here takes care of people, and we all make sure the city is safe for little girls and little boys like you.” He tapped the tip of his finger against her little nose, delighting in how it always made her giggle.
She looked around and looked at the team standing close by. “Superheroes, too?”
Buck nodded. “Right, sweetheart. Superheroes.” He gestured to the team and moved closer. He pointed to each as he introduced them. “That’s Eddie.”
In her little voice, she said, “‘Dee.”
“Exactly. And that’s Aunt Hen.”
“An’ ’En!”
“Mhm, and this is Uncle Chimney.”
“Chimmie.”
“Right. And this,” he turned to Bobby and smiled, “is Grandpa Bobby.”
“G’ampa.”
“That’s right.” She’d known a grandfather before, and he’d been her favorite aside from Buck just because he gave her hugs, so Buck assumed she was putting those two things together as she studied Bobby.
Beth tilted her head as she assessed him and said again, “G’ampa.”
“That’s Grandpa, yes.”
“G’ampa,” she said again in her sweet, tiny voice, and leaned forward for Bobby. Buck gasped and tried to quickly adjust his grip so the girl wouldn’t fall, but Bobby was already there, carefully taking the little girl into his arms. She cuddled happily into his chest. “My G’ampa.”
Bobby smiled, though his eyes were suspiciously wet. “That’s right. Your grandpa.”
She turned to look at Buck, and her eyes were still a bit sad. “No Dada?”
“No Dada,” Buck agreed. “But that just means that I’ll be able to take care of you for the next two days. I’ll be able to stay with you when you feel sick. I promise.”
“Okay,” she said softly. She held her arms out for Buck and he gladly took his daughter back into his arms.
“We’re gonna need to get going, little one,” Carla said gently. “It’s time to kick cancer’s butt!”
“Yeah,” she agreed, though it was a bit lackluster.
“Yeah,” Buck parroted with forced enthusiasm. “You’re gonna kick cancer’s butt!”
She nodded vigorously. “Its butt!”
Carla shook her head with a chuckle. “I knew she’s just like her daddy. Same sense of humor.”
Buck grinned at her then gave Beth a series of quick kisses to her cheek until she was giggling and squirming. “Dada, stop!” She squealed with a giggle. Buck gave her one last kiss before gently setting her back on her feet, kneeling before her.
“You got this, Bethany,” he told her sincerely. “You’ve got Miss Carla, and she’s gonna be with you the whole time. You’re a pro at this, aren’t you? You’re gonna rock!”
Beth smiled and took Carla’s outstretched hand, then waved with her free hand. “Bye-bye, Dada. Bye-bye, ‘Dee. Bye-bye An’ ‘En. Bye-bye, Unca Chimmie. Bye-bye, G’ampa.”
“Bye, Beth,” they chorused and watched the two walk away.
“So, that’s your daughter?” Bobby asked gently.
Buck nodded as he stood. “She’s a little angel.”
Hen came up beside him and settled a hand lightly on his shoulder. “She has cancer?”
He nodded again. “Stage 2 leukemia.” He chuckled, though the sound was mirthless and bordering on manic. “The same disease that killed my brother when he was a kid.”
“Buck,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. That has to be hard.”
“Sometimes it feels impossible.” He buried his face in his hands, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes until he saw spots. “We just started her on a new treatment since her last wasn’t working. We spent the last few days together and she was absolutely miserable. I mean, she was just in neverending discomfort, and all she could do about it was cry. There was nothing I could do.” He turned to her, and for once, he didn’t bother to hide the agony inside him as they met gazes. “It’s killing me, Hen. She’s my little girl. And she’s miserable and there’s…” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes again. “There’s nothing I can do,” he whispered.
“You’re taking care of her, and you’re there for her,” Hen told him, resolute. “Sometimes, that’s all you can do. And,” she added pointedly, “you can’t be there for her if you’re all burned out already.”
He nodded and Bobby sidled up to Hen, reached out to squeeze Buck’s shoulder. “Go get some rest, Buck,” he said. “We’ll be okay out in the field, just get some rest.”
Buck nodded and, without any more words, he turned to the bunks and curled up in the one farthest from the door. There, he let his tears go, and fell asleep.
***
He woke twice to alarms, but didn’t bother to move. After the team must have come back from the second call, he forced himself out of the bed and stumbled into the light of the station, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He could hear cooing, and figured Hen must be nearby.
“Hey, pretty boy,” she said fondly. She reached out and scratched her nails gently through Buck’s hair. He leaned into the touch. “Sleep well?” At his hum, she chuckled, and waved him upstairs.
Bobby looked up and brightened when he saw Buck. “Hey, how’d you sleep?” Buck answered with the same hum he’d given Hen as he dropped himself into a stool. In an instant, there was a plate of food and a coffee in front of him, and he looked up to find Bobby and Eddie having just set them down. Chimney made his way over to them as Hen sat at Buck’s side and encouraged him to eat.
“Okay,” Chimney began. “So, we’ve been doing some research, and we think we’ve put together a pretty solid game plan.”
Buck furrowed his brows and swallowed his bite of food before saying, “What are you talking about?”
“Beth,” Chimney said as if the answer was obvious. “We didn’t realize before that she was your daughter, sorry, we sort of assumed it was a girlfriend or something.”
Buck considered that admission, and the past few months came together to make a lot more sense.
“Anyway, we want to help you. We know it can be hard raising kids, especially sick kids, and we don’t want you to have to keep suffering like this.”
Buck looked up at his team, all looking at him hopefully from all sides, and he shrugged, acquiescing. “Okay. Whaddya got?”
“Well, first, this,” Bobby started and grabbed a small ream of papers. “I don’t know how, but your paperwork doesn’t say you have any dependents. We’ll fill it out, get it expedited to HR, and you’ll get a smaller income tax. Since she’s sick, we can see if HR can offer you any additional aids.”
“We’ve done some research, as Chim said,” Hen continued, “and we found that certain food groups can help with some of those effects of the chemo.”
“I tried that,” Buck told her. “Beth doesn’t eat. She just throws it all back up, and she’s never hungry.”
Bobby nodded. “If you try smoothies or other liquids, it should be more appealing, and easier to get down and keep down. Also, electrolytes are your best friends. I can help you make smoothies and stuff or at least make pre-portioned mixes so you can just toss it in a blender and hand it over. It’s best if you give it to her a bit frozen and a thin consistency.” Bobby pulled another paper aside and handed it to him. “This is a list of smoothie types I think would be palatable for a young girl, and in order to ensure she gets her protein, we can add chocolate-flavored protein powder. Not a lot, just enough for the flavoring to get in and for her to get at least enough protein. And these different mixtures ensure she won’t get bored of the same taste, and if we do it right, even if she doesn’t hold it down, she should get some protein and electrolytes in her.”
Buck nodded, finding himself suspiciously choked up. “And, uh, you’re gonna help me make all this?”
Bobby nodded and gave him a gentle smile. “I had Athena do a quick grocery store run, so she should be here soon with all the food. All we’ll need to do is cut it up and separate it into different portions, and then you can put them in the freezer when you get home.”
“And we’ll all help with that,” Hen added. “You, me, Bobby, and Athena will make the bags of food, Eddie and Chimney will label them.”
“We also looked into anti-nausea remedies for cancer kids,” Eddie piped up. “And we looked into activities she may be able to do so that she can get her mind off the discomfort and can have a bit more of a normal childhood. And these activities are for special needs kids ages 3 to 10, and Chris will be going with her. They’re not too energetic, more arts and crafts and stuff, so it won’t be too taxing, but it should still be fun for an hour.”
“And that way you can have some time to yourself,” Hen added. “We’ve also organized little shifts. At least once a week, you’ll have someone with Beth for a little while so you can go relax, get some rest, and come back ready for her.”
“We left it up to you when and where, and we’ll make sure we’re healthy and wash our hands so she doesn’t get germs from anyone.” Chimney told him next. “And if you want, it can be at night so you can go out with someone without having to worry about Beth being without you, or you can do it during the day, whenever you please.”
“And these times are not for errands,” Eddie stressed, pointing a finger at him. “We can help you with that. These times we have Beth are for you to relax so you don’t come into work dead on your feet just to go home and continue to be dead on your feet. Buck, we’re worried about you. Let us help.”
There were footsteps on the stairs and Athena appeared at the top, carrying big bags of groceries. “Fruits and vegetables are here!”
Buck looked at all of them, their earnest faces, their helpful lists and researching and care. He looked at them all and took in their concern, their support, their confidence. And then, he promptly burst into tears.
He was gathered in a hug from all sides, held together with five different pairs of arms. They were a family, not by blood, but by love. And they accepted him so easily. They took him in without a single request or condition. They accepted him just as he was, and they accepted his daughter simply because she was his.
He sobbed into the embrace, held on tight to the nearest shirt he could find, found his face buried into Eddie’s chest as he cried. Hands ran up and down his back to soothe him, lips pressed to the crown of his head to ease him, arms squeezed tighter to embrace him.
He’d never in his life felt this loved.