Hiiiii cal!!! I’m so glad you’re enjoying writing this way because I love getting to read these snippets - it’s like a bunch of mini cliffhangers that prompt my imagination to go wild and it’s so much fun!! I’ll be sending emojis for as long as you’re wanting them!
⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(they’re getting a house! And about to get married!!! And i might be misremembering but i don’t think you’ve done a detailed buddie wedding in any of your fics yet? I’m very excited to see how you do it!!)
🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(the shenanigans and tomfoolery of being bad at hiding a secret relationship… it amuses me so!)
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(as i’ve said many times before, my love for this fic goes beyond words!! And you’re venturing into truly riveting territory here i’m so pumped!!)
🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮(my heart breaks for babby - my typo for baby bobby and i’m keeping it - my dear sweet babby)
🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(i can already feel this one becoming my new obsession! Idk why i thought it was going to be something shorter when you first started posting about it but i was thrilled to see that anticipated chapter count on ao3!)
👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑(islands in the stream has been stuck in my head all day and i blame you! I’m so looking forward to the madney sweetness!)
🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼(oh my god cal the angst! It’s angsting!)
💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐💐(huge fan of mays crush being named april - it makes me giggle every time)
🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(cranberry my baby! And the covidness of it all is so vivid - i’m loving the buck-chris dynamic!)
I never count the amount of emojis i type as i go so i’m always a bit shocked at how many sentences i’ve requested of you when you post the reply 😬 thank you so much for putting up with my crazy requests it brings me such joy!
I hope you have a lovely weekend and week!!
SO AS I WAS FILLING THIS OUT MY FUCKING LAPTOP CRASHED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT HAS TAKEN ME HOURS AND HOURS ACROSS TWO DAYS. FUCK. Let's see if I can find the sentences I wrote again.
For TWATYTK and Zombies, those parts have already been posted, because as I said, this was taking so long. GAH!
I had a whole message typed out about how much I appreciate you. You are so kind! IT'S LOST TO TIME NOW.
I think this was what I had for ⚡️:
---
Their next call is to the scene of a fire.
This should not be especially eventful, considering that they are firefighters and all. And, for the drive there, it isn’t. The transit process? Just fine.
It’s the rest that sends Buck into a tailspin.
He spends the ride seated next to Eddie, thighs touching. They’re back being partnered together. Sadie earned her shield a couple months back, and has been working as Ravi’s partner since. Buck is pretty proud of her - and himself, for training her. He liked working with her a lot. But he’s happy to be back where he belongs, in terms of workplace duos.
Buck and Eddie - okay, mostly Buck - talk everyone’s ear off about the house for the time it takes them to get to the fire. They should possibly be a little less giddy headed towards an actual three alarm fire, but at that point, Buck thinks his mood simply can’t be shaken. How naive.
It is perhaps due to this focus on the house, which is nowhere near the direction they’re headed in to get to this fire, that Buck doesn’t realize what is in the direction of the fire. In his defense, neither does anyone else! Not even Eddie! Even Bobby, who knows better where they’re going, doesn’t put the pieces together.
Maybe it’s because they spend so much time driving around the city. Here and there. Fires and car accidents and medical emergencies everywhere. Everywhere looks familiar! They could all be city tour guides. It’s not like driving through a city where you only know a few places, so the places you know feel like beacons.
Or Buck is just making excuses for his lack of attention. Either way.
Really, it’s not until they turn onto the street that Buck notices. Though, it’s a long road, and they’re still a few miles out.
“This is weird,” Buck says.
“What is?” Sadie asks. She’s sitting across from him. Noticing his sudden onslaught of nerves.
“We’re on the same street as the wedding venue.”’
That makes Eddie look. He’d been typing a rather long message to his mother and not paying much attention to where they’re going. At Buck’s words, his attention snaps to the window.
“Shit, you’re right.”
Well, obviously Buck knows he’s right.
“Bobby,” he asks. “What’s the address of where we’re going?”
“Uh, it is…” Bobby reads. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Buck repeats. He grabs Eddie’s arm. “Oh? Oh, what?”
“Okay, well first let’s remember we don’t know how bad it is yet,” Bobby says, maintaining a steady facade.
“Bobby, it’s a three-alarm fire!” Buck exclaims, voice raising an octave.
“And the wedding is in days,” Eddie adds, voice wavering with stress. “There’s no time to do any repairs, even if it’s not totally ruined.”
Days. Days. What the fuck are they going to do?
“Okay, let’s not jump to any conclusions. Technically, the address is for the building next door,” Bobby explains. “Everything might be fine.”
Everything is not fine. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Two minutes after his painstaking revelation, Buck finds himself standing next to his fiancé on the street in front of their wedding venues, watching it plume with smoke. The wind blew the flames from the building next to it, and the roof caught. It won’t fare as badly as the other building, but it certainly won’t be available for their wedding.
They are getting married.
In three days.
Their wedding is in three days.
Their wedding is in three days and has no venue.
Because their venue is burning right in front of him.
Their venue was also their caterer, so add that to the fucking fire.
“Buck! Eddie!” Bobby calls. “Work first, react later!”
Easy for him to say! It’s not his wedding venue!
“Come on.” Eddie tugs on his turnouts. “We’ve got to go.”
Buck feels like he’s been possessed by a heap of barbed wire.
He turns his head to Eddie. His eyes are bugged out so wide they might pop from his head. An absurd but sticky thought pops into his head.
“You jinxed us,” Buck accuses.
“Buck!” Eddie complains.
---
And 🚨:
---
“Okay, that makes sense. Was it his family?”
Buck nods. “They were religious. Conservative. Southern.”
“I can relate,” Eddie tells him.
“Eventually, I just wanted to be able to relax, though,” Buck says. “I made him promise we’d do it at the end of the tour. Not to his family. Just, to friends… And in public.”
Eddie’s expression softens as he realizes.
“And then he died.”
“Yeah.”
And then he died.
“I’m so sorry,” Eddie exhales.
Buck shakes his head. His eyes start to sting.
“It’s stupid, Eddie. I know there’s no logic behind it. It just feels like once something is out loud, it can be taken away.”
Eddie nods, understanding the thought process.
“We both know I can’t promise you I won’t spontaneously die,” he says. “Especially in a global pandemic.”
“I know,” Buck nods.
“But, uh…” Eddie sighs. “It’s like you said when I was worried about Chris, right? I’ll just have to prove it to you.”
“Prove it to me?” Buck asks.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I’ll just prove that we get to have a life together. Even if we’re both a little bit scared of dying.”
“I’m scared of you dying,” Buck reminds him.
“Okay, well we’re at an equal risk, so… Not the point, actually. Buck, the point is, I’ll show you every day, alright?” Eddie promises. “We get to have this.”
Buck takes a deep breath. He leans forward in bed and grabs Eddie’s hand.
“I don’t know if I’d believe anyone else,” he says quietly.
Eddie shuffles up the mattress, closer to Buck.
“Believe me,” he says.
“Okay,” Buck relents. “But only because you’re very pretty.”
Eddie smirks. “It’s a gift.”
“Mmm, or a trick.”
Eddie chuckles and kisses his temple, right beside the birthmark.
“I love you,” he says. “That’s not going anywhere, okay?”
“Okay,” Buck breathes.
He decides to try his best to believe him.
---
And the 90 sentences I wrote for this damn 🩸:
---
But it does show Buck what she’s up to.
It kind of makes him mad, actually. Eddie has gone to such intense, devastating lengths to hide himself. Meanwhile, his attacker has been out here, just living life. Posting about walks through the park and her latest baking experiment. How is that fucking fair?
It’s not.
It’s not fair.
And while Buck knows what he has to do isn’t fair either - isn’t right or human or good - he tries to keep that in mind.
She ruined Eddie’s life. Twice. She didn’t have to do that. Now, what choice does Buck have?
February 10th, 2025
Eddie does something on Monday that he perhaps should not do. Something the tiniest bit risky. After his call with Adriana, he’s feeling that a bit of risk taking to get his life back where it needs to be is necessary. And anyway, he’s not doing anything illegal. Not doing anything wrong. Nothing he can be arrested for.
He’s picking his son up from school.
Chris pauses, exiting Durand School to see Eddie in the driver’s seat of the truck. His eyes widened with nerves for a moment. Eddie felt a rush of guilt. He doesn’t want to make Chris worry. Doesn’t want to cause any undue stress. He just wants to feel like a normal dad again, picking his kid up from school.
But then Chris breaks out into a wide grin, and Eddie feels his whole body relax.
“You came!” Chris exclaims, surprised, when he reaches the vehicle.
Eddie climbs out to help him into the front seat. Not that Chris needs a lot of help anymore. Mostly just someone to hold his crutches and bag.
“I did,” Eddie confirms. He tries to keep his voice even.
“You’re not worried?”
“No,” Eddie says. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”
Chris thinks about this. “I’m glad you came today.”
“Me too,” Eddie decides. “Do you want to grab ice cream or something on the way home?”
Chris narrows his eyes. “I’m not a little kid, remember?”
“Jeez, I didn’t know ice cream had an age limit,” Eddie frowns. “Buck will be devastated to hear this. You know how seriously he takes his Neapolitan.”
Chris smirks. “Fine. Okay. I want ice cream.”
Eddie grins. “Thought so.”
Fifteen minutes later, they’re sitting on a little patio, under the shade of an umbrella. Eddie is in the darkest seat, also covered by sunglasses and a hat. Chris sits in the sunshine, spooning strawberry ice cream from a little paper bowl.
“So, I wanted to run an idea by you,” Eddie says.
“Me?” Chris asks.
“Yeah, you. Who else?”
“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “What is it?”
“Well, I think I need to get a job,” Eddie says.
“But you can’t be a firefighter,” Chris fills in.
“No,” Eddie says. “I don’t think I can.”
“So, then what?”
“Well, May suggested I look into telehealth services. Like a hotline for medical advice or something,” Eddie says.
Chris nods. “You’d be good at that.”
“Thank you,” Eddie replies. “But, uh, I did a little research and I think I found something different that suits me even better.”
“What is it?”
“Well, there’s this nonprofit that operates out of Los Angeles looking for people with medical experience. Nurses. Doctors. Paramedics.”
“Like a charity?” Chris asks.
“Yeah, but I’d get paid,” Eddie says. “It’s a job. Bringing emergency medical care to people who maybe don’t feel safe to call for help.”
“Like… You?” Chris whispers the last part.
“Yeah, but not just like me,” Eddie explains. “All kinds of people. People facing deportation. Homeless people. People who can’t afford an ambulance ride. Stuff like that.”
---
This is easier to count again haha 🔮:
---
Buck wakes up with his cheek pressed into the bannister support poles of Bobby’s apartment stairwell. He can feel their imprint as he woozily pulls his upper body upright. His head is pounding and he feels vaguely nauseous. Almost like he’s been drugged. Though, the comedown when they’d been spiked with LSD had been far more gradual than the sudden, brutal snap back to reality that had been whatever that was.
Not a coma, he realizes. If he’s sitting in the stairwell to Bobby’s apartment, not a hospital room, then it wasn’t a coma dream. Kind of an insane regular dream, though? And why had he passed out in the first place?
Acutely aware he won’t find any answers here, parked on his ass, Buck pulls himself to his feet. Slowly, and gripping the bannister for support, just in case, he straightens out his body. His legs give a little wobble.
What the fuck happened to him?
Partway down the stairs, Buck looks up and down. Should he go out to the Jeep and risk driving home? Feeling like this? He supposes he could call Eddie. Eddie would come for him, no questions asked. He knows he could ask Bobby for help, too. No matter what just happened between them. But his brain is battling two contradictory memories; the fight he had with Bobby in the kitchen and the memory he somehow intruded on of Bobby at his father’s funeral. If that was even real. The easy thing to do would be to go downstairs and call Eddie, not deal with any of it. Hold onto the only thing he knows really happened.
With a sigh, Buck turns and climbs the stairs. Up towards Bobby’s.
The moment his foot hits the landing on Bobby’s floor, Buck sees the breathless, similarly disoriented face of his captain jogging down the hallway. He looks pale. Hair a little mussed. Half his face is red, like it’s been pressed against something, too.
---
A bunch for this guy here 🧟:
---
“May is awake and lucid,” she says. “She’s asking for you.”
Athena grabs one of Hen’s hands and squeezes it.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Then she hurries off in the direction of her daughter’s sickroom.
Hen doesn’t go after her. She waits, lingering, to speak with Bobby.
“Did you find Michael?” She asks.
Bobby shakes his head slightly.
“It looks like he was infected in the initial outbreak or sometime soon after.”
Hen’s shoulder sag. “Damn it. Poor Athena. Poor kids.”
Bobby nods. He doesn’t know what else to say. Yes. It’s horrendous. Everything is always so horrendous and everyone’s families are always dying.
“We should ask her to stay,” Hen says quietly. “She’s a friend. We trust her. The kids will be good for Denny.”
Bobby knows they have enough food to stretch to more than just the three of them. Plus, more hands means more potential to harvest more. Fish more. Preserve more.
“It’s not just my decision,” Bobby says. “We’ll have to discuss it as a group.”
“No, but it’ll go whatever way you want it to go,” Hen says. “You know that.”
He does.
“I think it’s a good idea, Hen. But I want everyone’s input.”
“Like you did with the radio?” She asks.
Bobby raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Buck told you?”
“Oh, yes.” She says. “Wanted to get ahead of it, I guess.”
“Do you think I did the wrong thing?” Bobby asks.
Hen might be the only person he’s willing to ask this of. The only person whose answer he really wants to know.
“No,” she says. “I don’t think you did the wrong thing. But I’m worried about him anyway.”
“Me too, Hen.” Bobby admits.
He’s always worried about Buck. All the time. Every minute. Even when Buck hasn’t done anything deserving of Buck’s worry.
One day, Buck is going to finally let himself realize they’re all dead. Maddie. Abby. Every person he knew and loved before this. He’ll realize they’re all gone. And Bobby worries, every moment, that it will destroy him. He worries he won’t find a reason to keep pushing forward.
---
A few here 👑:
---
Chim finally gets a chance to talk to Hen about it, privately, somewhere around four in the morning. They’re in the ambulance, driving back from yet another party gone wrong that resulted in a hospital transport. At least this time no one puked. Just a badly broken ankle from a drunken trampoline adventure.
“So you forgot to get her number,” Hen says. “Can’t you go back?”
“Stroll up to a gated mansion tomorrow and say, ‘hi, I’m the guy who kissed your daughter while you were trying to set her up with rich hedge fund types?’ I don’t think so, Hen.”
“She’s probably trying to find your information, too,” Hen tries.
“I hope,” Chim grumbles.
“And, hey, you’re very findable on social media,” Hen adds. “She won’t have trouble.”
“Should I message her brother?” Chim asks. “Is that crazy? He was nice!”
“Mmm, maybe wait until you’ve slept for all forms of communication,” Hen advises. “She knows you’re at work, anyway. She won’t be expecting to hear from you.”
“Right. Right. You’re so smart. Why are you so smart?”
“I had a nap in the bunk room while you were at the party.”
Damn. Yeah. A nap would make him sharper.
“So, it’s just a waiting game for now,” Chim sighs. This is not helping with the resounding feeling that he may, in fact, be a complete fool.
“I think so,” Hen agrees. “Sorry, Chim.”
👑👑👑
By some stroke of fate, he’s not waiting very long.
When they park the ambulance in the engine bay and climb out, sore and tired, Chim is met with the sound of a strangely familiar voice. One he thinks he may just be hallucinating.
“You’re the captain? That’s so cool!” He hears. “That means you’ve been doing this forever, right? You know a lot about it?”
---
OKAY BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING! THAT IS WHERE MY LAPTOP ABANDONED ME.
30 for 🔼:
---
She accepts the cards she’s been dealt, just like last time. After all, didn’t she shuffle the deck?
She sees her son as much as she can. She goes back to her office admin job as soon as she’s able. She misses Eddie’s shield ceremony. His request. She avoids his parents while they’re in town altogether. Her choice.
Other than coworkers, she really has no adults to see. Compounded with that, she and Eddie have made the decision not to tell family - even Christopher - until her second trimester. So Shannon finds herself existing in this strange vacuum of silence. Again, one of her own making. But difficult to navigate nonetheless.
That changes about seven weeks after her accident. Completely unintentionally, she might add.
None of it was ever a plan in her head.
She’s been seeing a physical therapist for her shoulder. Her ankle has healed on an intended timeline, not causing her much additional trouble. Her shoulder, on the other hand, has been a source of difficulty. Perhaps with everything else changing in her body, it can’t quite figure itself out. It wouldn’t be the only thing.
She’s thirteen weeks along now. Almost at that second trimester mark. Almost at the point where not only will they be able to tell people, but they’ll have to. Namely their son. She’s not really showing per say, but she certainly feels bigger and tighter. Her chest is another matter entirely.
So, to paint the picture, there she is; thirteen weeks pregnant with a man whose trust she shattered, shoulder hardly functional, sitting in the waiting room of her physical therapist in loose sweats and her baggiest tee shirt because nothing fits her boobs properly anymore, and who walks in? Or hobbles in, rather? Her soon-to-be-ex-husband’s best friend.
---
33 for 💐 (YEAH THANKS I THOUGHT APRIL WAS FUNNY):
---
She orders a wine spritzer. April orders a cider. They sit in a corner booth and for a good few minutes, it’s awkward as hell. Neither of them really seems to know where to start. Which makes sense, because they didn’t exactly have any solid communication foundations to begin with. May is reminded, strangely, of the time Sue left her and Claudette to sort out their issues in the quiet room, right before the fire at Dispatch. Not that she thinks this will end the same way, obviously.
“Listen,” May starts after the server brings them their drinks. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood things. I really got the sense you didn’t like me.”
April frowns. “I’m not sure how, honestly. I was trying pretty hard to get to know you.”
“I think I definitely, uh, read things wrong,” May admits. “I’m definitely… Confused about things. But, come on, April. You have to admit, you were acting super competitive with me in class.”
Her brows furrow, hazel eyes giving the impression she’s sifting through memories.
“Was I that bad?” She asks.
“Yes,” May insists. “You disagree with everything I say. You compete over grades. When you did better than me on the criminology midterm exam, you literally said April always comes before May.”
April’s cheeks redden.
“Oh my god,” she mumbles.
“You did say it!” May reiterates.
“No, I know,” April says. “I’m sorry, I just… God, it’s stupid. You thought I was serious?”
“Well, yeah?”
April takes a long sip of her cider.
---
45 for darling Cranberry! 🦮:
---
Cranberry brings Chris the ball, pressing it eagerly into his hand.
“Ew, so much slobber,” Chris complains, wiping his hand on his pants. Luckily, laundry day is tomorrow.
“Well, you’re the one who keeps throwing it for her,” Buck says. He’s just been snapping photos to send to Eddie.
“Gross, Cran,” Chris chides, and throws the ball again, a little absentmindedly. This time, the ball goes high. Higher than Buck would have liked. And at an awkward angle.
Cranberry twists her body as she jumps, catching the ball midair. When she comes back down, she fumbles, front left paw hitting the ground hard and buckling under her. She yelps and stumbles forward.
“Cranberry!” Chris shrieks.
Buck lurches forward to where they’re playing, straining his leg.
Cranberry stands and stumbles a little again. She lifts her injured paw, favoring it. Tail tucked between her leg, she limps towards Buck, seeking comfort.
Buck lowers himself down as quickly as he can manage to examine her.
“Are you okay, baby?” He asks.
“Did she break her leg?” Christopher asks, bottom lip trembling.
Buck lifts Cranberry’s injured leg. It doesn’t look broken. He flexes it. Her elbow and shoulder move without resistance, but she fights him when he tries to straighten her wrist. It can move, it just hurts her.
“Is she okay?” Chris asks again.
Buck feels a pang of annoyance.
“This is why I asked you not to throw it too high,” he grits out.
Tears spill out from the boy’s eyes.
“I-I’m sorry, Buck.” He blubbers. “I didn’t mean to hurt her!”
Buck clenches his jaw. He feels unreasonably angry and panicked. If Christopher had just listened this wouldn’t have happened.
“I know it was an accident,” Buck manages.
“I’m sorry, Cranberry,” Chris cries. He takes his glasses off to wipe his eyes.
“I think it’s just twisted,” Buck says. “I’m going to bring her inside and call the vet to see if she needs to get checked out. Okay?”
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