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Tommy Kinard has had a strange year.
He fell in love; that fell apart, mostly because he’s an insecure mess of a man with a very convincing facade. He reconnected with old friends and even made a new one; that fell apart too. It was hardly a shock but still stung more than he was expecting.
He turned forty, which might have been the most surprising thing. He worked on his birthday because at least that meant he could fly and be around other people. His team bought him a cake and played Happy Birthday through a speaker anytime he stepped out of the cockpit.
Tommy then tried having hope for approximately five minutes and the universe very swiftly reminded him why that is an awful idea, and Tommy barely made it through his front door before breaking down in sobs, feeling stupid and used, and then once he gained his composure, he was left sitting on the floor, emotionally exhausted, judging his own dodging paint work on the skirting boards and feeling like even more like an idiot for his outburst.
Then his former captain died. He thought Evan already found all the ways he could break Tommy’s heart, but watching Evan crying on the ground was a whole different type of heartbreak. Tommy grieved in private, offered his condolences and offered to be a shoulder to lean on if Evan needed it, unsure if he had any right to do so, and judging by the way he never got a response he really missed the mark with that one.
And to top it all off he’s been stuck doing groundwork for the past two weeks due to some spectacularly awful food truck giving half of the 217 gastro and Tommy, as one of the few unaffected, has been left filling in the gaps.
Now he’s at a house fire.
The flames are slow moving and the neighbour said the owners had gone out to dinner, but Tommy knows how quickly things can change. Him and Miller have just cleared the top floor, just in time judging by the way the staircase has started creaking. They’re halfway to the door when Tommy hears it.
Coming from upstairs is a faint banging sound.
“Wait,” Tommy shouts, “Do you hear that?”
“No.”
“The banging.”
Miller just gives Tommy a look like he’s lost his mind. “We cleared the floor, Kinard. Samuels wants us out.”
“You go. I’m going to check it out.” Tommy is sure he heard something and as much as he prefers to be in the air, he has enough experience under his belt to trust his instincts when it comes to things like this. But there’s no point in Miller risking his life because Tommy has a hunch.
“Kinard, that staircase is about to go.”
“Then tell them to get the ladder ready.” Tommy says with all the authority he can muster before bolting back up the stairs.
Sure enough by the time Tommy makes it to the landing, the ominous creaking has gotten louder, and the staircase collapses entirely.
Fuck.
There better be someone here or else his team is going to give him so much shit.
“LAFD. Call out!” He shouts out to no reply.
“Kinard what the hell are you doing,” comes a voice through Tommy’s radio.
“I heard banging.”
“You heard banging,” Captain Samuels repeats, voice dripping with exasperation which Tommy thinks is a little uncalled for. “You better know what you’re doing.”
Tommy might be in for a lecture when he gets back on the ground, but he knows that Samuels respects Tommy enough to trust him on this.
“Come on, come on,” the pilot mutters to himself as he makes his way deeper into the house. But then, he hears it, the sound of something hitting metal, coming from the bathroom.
Tommy takes off at sprint, grateful that the sound is coming from the room furthest from the flames.
“LAFD. Is anyone there?” He shouts as he gets to the doorway, and sure enough someone is.
Standing in the middle of the room is a little boy. He looks about four years old, soot in his hair and tears streaming down his face. He’s holding a toothbrush that he must having been using to hit the sink to make the noise Tommy heard.
“Hey there, little man.” Tommy says crouching down in front of the boy. Where this kid came from, he has no idea. “My name’s Tommy. Are you hurt?”
The kid just shakes his head. At least that’s something.
“Okay. It’s getting pretty hairy out there, so how about we get closer to the window and then my team can come gets us.”
The boy only nods. Tommy can’t suppose he can blame him for being too scared to speak. Still the boy goes willingly when Tommy picks him up, immediately wrapping an arm around Tommy’s neck. Tommy ends up siting on the edge of the bathtub with the boy in his lap.
“This is Kinard,” Tommy says into his radio. “I’ve got a preschool aged kid in the bathroom. Second story, facing north, should be the third window along. Requesting extraction.”
“We’re on it Kinard,” Captain Samuels replies.
If Samuels has any sense at all she should be expecting Tommy’s next move as he starts undoing the straps on his mask as gently as possible, so he doesn’t jostle the little boy who is just watching Tommy with big brown eyes.
He holds the mask out in front of him. “I need you to put your face in this and take a big breath for me.” It’s not ideal, but it’ll do for now. The kid moves somewhat suspiciously towards the mask and Tommy takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging the boy to follow. “That’s it. You’re being so brave. It’ll just be a little longer.”
Tommy has never been so restless waiting for an extraction before. But then again, he’s never been waiting with such precious cargo.
He’s dealt with kids on calls before. Frequently. He’s even dealt with kids when the call has hit a little too close to home, but there’s something about this kid who’s been left here all alone that is causing feelings Tommy would rather not look too closely at.
“Do you want to tell me your name?” No reply. “That’s okay. I’m not exactly a social butterfly either.”
Then the kid starts moving Tommy’s hand, so his palm is facing upward. Then with a shaky finger the boy starts tracing a W against Tommy’s glove. Then he draws a Y.
“Wyatt. Your name is Wyatt?”
Despite their admittedly shitty circumstances the boy starts smiling. Tommy finds himself following suit. “That’s a great name. Like the cowboy, Wyatt Earp.”
“H…horses”
“Horses are pretty cool.”
Tommy is trying to recall any horse facts Evan might have mentioned when he finally catches sight of the ladder and then Miller is poking his head in the window. Wyatt gets spooked at the sight, fully clinging to Tommy, who starts stroking his back in reassurance.
“Told you I heard banging.” Tommy says with a smirk, to which Miller just over dramatically rolls his eyes.
Despite Miller’s shoddy hearing, Tommy gets on well with him. They have the same dry sense of humour and Miller tends to be the one who drags Tommy’s sorry ass to afterwork drinks, because apparently Tommy is the only one worth playing pool against.
They’re not exactly the deep-and-meaningful type of friends, but after the break-up, despite Tommy insisting it was his fault, Miller still signed Evan up for every random mailing list he could find, including the one for the local Ferret Association. However, knowing Evan he probably quite likes the newsletters.
“And I bet Adkins twenty bucks you’d have your mask off when we got to you,” Miller says, already reaching out to take Wyatt.
“Yeah, yeah. This is Wyatt. Probable smoke inhalation. No apparent injuries.”
“Hey little dude. Let’s get you out of here. Kinard, you can come to.”
As much as Tommy is relieved to see Wyatt being carried away from the burning building, he feels desolate seeing the little boy being taken away from him.
It’s a little heartbreak, but a heartbreak nonetheless,
God, it’s been a long day.
His captain is immediately there when Tommy sets foot on the ground, but Tommy is preoccupied watching Wyatt being carried over to the paramedics.
“You took your mask off,” Samuels says, more resigned than annoyed, effectively getting Tommy’s attention.
“Sure did.” Samuels is the only superior that Tommy would ever consider talking to this way, mostly because when he first got to the station, she called him into her office and told him on no uncertain terms would she be putting up with any ‘yes ma’am,’ ‘no, ma’am’ bullshit.
She’s the leader, but she respects Tommy’s skills and his instincts, and treats him more like an equal than an underling in a way that Tommy probably doesn’t deserve.
“You are going to go and get yourself some oxygen and if Adkins says you need to go to hospital, you’re going Kinard.”
“You got it boss.” Tommy says with a mock little salute before making his way over the ambulances.
——-
Tommy has been a firefighter for a long time. He knows the rules. You don’t go beyond the glass doors. He never has. Except for today.
He finished his shift - without needing to go to hospital, thank you very much - and even managed get some sleep seeing as there were no other calls after the house fire. But on the drive home from Harbour Tommy couldn’t help thinking about Wyatt. He checked with the paramedics when they got back to the station and apparently he was okay. Silent but okay. But Tommy knows how quickly things can go south.
He’s just going to go and check with a nurse and make sure that everything’s fine and then he can go back to his empty house and watch Runaway Bride until he falls asleep again. That’s the plan.
Except on the way to Cedar-Sinai he passes a toy store and Tommy thinks that anything the boy owned is probably burnt to a crisp and no kid should be left in a hospital with nothing. So, Tommy makes a quick detour, forks over a small fortune on a stuffed horse, and then goes to the hospital.
He only feels slightly stupid standing in line, shopping bag clutched in his hand, and about to waste some poor nurse’s time just so he can feel better.
“Hi, I’m firefighter Tommy Kinard. Last night …” he starts when he gets to the desk, only to be interrupted.
“Tommy,” an unfamiliar voice calls his name.
“Sorry,” he tells the nurse, before stepping out a line to meet the stranger. She looks about 15 years older than him and barely comes up to his shoulder. Her hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she carries herself with an air of authority that Tommy has usually seen reserved for firefighter captains and army colonels.
Tommy has never seen her before in his life and feels a pit forming in his stomach like he’s about to be told off.
“Sorry, I’m Annie Montgomery,” she says holding her hand out. “I heard that a firefighter named Tommy rescued a young boy named Wyatt from a house fire last night. Would that be you?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“No need for that, Annie is fine. I’m Wyatt’s social worker.”
It’s hardly a surprise. Leaving a four-year-old home alone is a sure-fire way to get child services involved.
“Is Wyatt okay?”
“He quite shaken up but doing well all things considered.” At that the tension that Tommy has been carrying in his shoulders disappears and he can’t help but let out a small, shaky laugh.
That might be the first bit of good news Tommy has gotten in months.
“I’m really glad.” Tommy says, quickly working to regain his composure.
“That makes two of us. Is that for him?” Annie says, gesturing to the shopping bag, and Tommy can feel blush rising on his cheeks. He’s not some probie fresh on the job, but here he is anyway.
“I was just going to pass it along to a nurse, but if you wouldn’t mind giving it to him?”
Annie shifts her gaze up and down, not bothering to pretend she isn’t blatantly inspecting him. Her eyebrows draw together like she’s deep in thought. After a moment she speaks. “Or you could give it to him yourself.”
That wasn’t what Tommy was expecting. He got the information he came for and according to the plan he made on the way over here, he should already be halfway back to his car and deciding what ready-made meal he’s going to eat once he gets home.
Tommy wraps his arms around his torso in the hopes that will calm down his heart which has started to race. He really doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. “I wouldn’t want to upset him.”
Annie must take pity on him because her gaze softens. “I think he’d like a visitor that isn’t me to be honest,” she says softly.
“His parents haven’t been in?”
“Wyatt was removed from his biological parents care eighteen months ago. They are fully out of the picture. He’s been in foster care ever since, but obviously his most recent family were not who we thought they were.”
Tommy feels his heart sink. He’s had plenty of experience with stories like Wyatt’s, but it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. “That’s rough.”
“It is. Wyatt’s been through a lot, so he’d probably like getting a visit from cool firefighter.”
What is Tommy meant to say to that. “Okay, yeah. I can go see him.”
“Come on then.” Annie says already walking off towards the elevators, leaving Tommy to trail behind her, still slightly stunned at the turn of events.
She reminds him a bit of Hen, both competent and compassionate and not one to beat around the bush.
When they get to Wyatt’s room Tommy waits outside so Annie can make sure Wyatt is up to seeing him and Tommy can’t help but start fidgeting with the straps of the shopping bag.
This whole situation is ridiculous. He’s meant to be recovering from a hard shift and trying desperately not to wonder how Evan is doing. Instead, Tommy has gone so far past the glass doors they might as well not exist. He doesn’t think he can be written up for this, but still he knows better. You do not get emotionally attached to your saves, even if they are children with tragic backstories and big eyes.
Before Tommy gets a chance to completely rip the bag to shreds, Annie comes and gets him.
Even with the nasal cannula in, Wyatt looks a lot better than he did last night. The soot is gone at least. But he’s still really pale, and Tommy now realises just how skinny he is. The poor kid. And the part of Tommy that never moved on from the first time his dad hurt him wonders if this is what he looked like at this age, and if he did how did no one notice how bad things were.
“Hey Wyatt. I’m Tommy from last night.” Tommy might just be imagining things, but he thinks that Wyatt brightens up when he sees him as he starts smiling. Tommy honesty didn’t think Wyatt would recognise out of turnouts.
Annie gives him a small push, getting to walk further into the room, so Tommy pulls the visitor’s chair up closer to the bed before taking a seat.
A quick look behind him shows that Annie has taken up his former spot in the doorway, leaning against the frame, just watching more out of curiosity than judgement. She gives Tommy a small thumbs up when she catches his eye.
Well, it’s nice to know he hasn’t immediately frightened the already traumatised child.
“Last night was pretty scary, huh?” Wyatt just nods. Still not much of a talker. Tommy can appreciate that. “You did really good though. Hitting the sink was a smart move.”
Tommy has been around children. He’s told school fields trips about how helicopters fly and met his teammates children over the years, but this is different. A traitorous part of Tommy wishes Evan was here because he always seemed to know what to say around kids.
“Um this is for you.” Tommy says handing over the bag. Maybe he should have wrapped it.
Wyatt just looks at him. Tommy knows that look, that need for reassurance, so he makes sure he’s looking Wyatt in the eyes. “It’s okay Wyatt. It’s for you to keep. Okay?” Tommy says, with a small nod of his head.
Wyatt mimics the movement, which Tommy will admit is very cute.
Slowly, as if waiting to be told off, Wyatt removes the toy from the bag. Very gently he places the shopping bag on the bed next to him, before wrapping both arms around the toy, hugging it close to chest.
“Than…thank you.” Wyatt says in a voice so soft it breaks Tommy’s heart.
“You are so welcome, sweetheart” he says around the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat. “I figured every cowboy needs a horse.”
Tommy stays for another fifteen minutes, before it becomes evident that Wyatt needs to rest, and honestly Tommy needs to get home before whatever fumes he’s been running on run out. Most of those fifteen minutes were spent in silence, apart from Tommy’s comments as he acted amazed as Wyatt shows him all the very cool ways a stuffed horse can be moved.
Tommy tries to remember that last time he smiled like he has today, in a way that wasn’t sarcastic or put on so people wouldn’t worry. It’s been four months since the hook-up with Evan and Tommy’s uncharacteristic moment of hope, so Tommy guesses he hasn’t genuinely smiled in four months. Isn’t that a depressing thought?
He really needs to get out more.
On the way out the door, Annie stops him as asks if he would be comfortable visiting Wyatt again. And even though it’s stupid and selfish and makes Tommy seriously question what Annie is thinking, Tommy says yes.
——
Tommy ends up visiting Wyatt again the next day and exchanging numbers with Annie. And he leaves home early before the start of his next twenty-four-hour shift so he can drop into the hospital. He visits again during his next 72 off.
During those visits he learns that Wyatt named his horse Earp, which Tommy finds ridiculously adorable. He likes the colour green, but not green jello. It becomes pretty clear that Wyatt has some sort of stutter and Tommy has to assume that the people in Wyatt’s life weren’t too happy about that, and that’s why the kid doesn’t speak much. However, he’s starting to talk more, which makes Tommy feel weirdly proud.
He doesn’t tell anyone at work about the visits, although he catches his captain giving him a strange look more than once making Tommy think she has her suspicions. But Wyatt waves wildly when he sees Tommy so Tommy can’t bring himself to regret his decision to visit. He’ll take the lecture from Samuels gladly.
Today Annie has brought a book about Paddington Bear and Tommy had a chance to read to Wyatt. It was the happiest in a long, long time.
Tommy promises to stay until Wyatt falls asleep, only leaving once it’s clear the little boy is getting some much-needed rest. He’s just thinking about whether he can be bothered going to the good grocery store even though it’s out of the way, when Annie stops him.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Sure,” Tommy says and tries to ignore the sense of foreboding in the air. He’d been having such a nice day.
“Is Wyatt okay?” Tommy asks as Annie leads them through the hospital to cafeteria. He looked okay when Tommy was with him, but he’s no doctor.
“Wyatt’s fine. He’s doing very well all things considered. Coffee?”
“Please.”
Tommy hopes he’s doing a good job of keeping the panic off his face. He usually is.
All he can think is that Annie doesn’t want Tommy to visit Wyatt anymore and is trying to find a way to let him down gently. It’s okay, really. Sure, it’ll hurt like hell, but honestly Tommy was expecting it.
He’s just grateful he got to spend any time with Wyatt at all.
“Wyatt’s getting out of hospital soon.”
“That’s great.” Tommy says truthfully. The little boy has already quietly confessed to Tommy that he didn’t like the hospital. Too loud.
Tommy moves to add sugar to his cup, ignoring the curious look Annie gives him as he tips in his fourth packet.
Tommy stopped pretending to like black coffee around the same time he stopped pretending to like women.
“It is great. We have an emergency placement lined up for him, but I want to set something more permanent up as soon as possible. I’ll cut to chase. Tommy, have you ever thought about fostering.”
Tommy keeps his grip on his paper coffee cup but it’s a near thing.
He allows himself five seconds of wonder and longing and warmth, before very quickly stamping those feelings out. It’s a nice idea, a really nice idea, but it’s not a possibility.
“I’m flattered, really. But I don’t think that’s an option.” Tommy says, hiding all the emotions currently warring in his chest. Tommy likes Annie. She is obviously a strong woman who does a lot of good and genuinely cares about those in her charge, but he can’t help but hate her a little bit in this moment.
How could she say something so cruel, inspiring visions of a future Tommy is never going to get.
“Why not?”
There are so many reasons.
“I don’t have a partner.”
That’s the simple way of putting it.
The truth is more Tommy had a partner and got scared because he has issues and Evan didn’t seem to be as serious about their relationship as Tommy was, so Tommy left and was miserable. And then he made himself more miserable by driving past his exe’s loft, except, newsflash, his exe wasn’t even living there anymore. You would think that would be rock bottom, but no, it gets worse. Because Tommy hooked up with said exe and went out and brought champagne the next morning like a dumbass, but instead of getting back together, the man Tommy still loves basically told him he only wanted a good fuck. But wait there’s more, because then Tommy stole another helicopter and thought he and Evan shared a moment in the middle of a chase with the U.S military, but then his exe’s father figure tragically died and Tommy was a pallbearer at the funeral and he tried reaching out after but got left on read and even though Tommy knows Evan is grieving that still really hurt. And now Tommy is just left with all this love and all this hurt and he is so goddamn lonely he doesn’t know what to do with himself, which is weird because Tommy has been lonely for most of his life.
But Tommy figures Annie doesn’t want to know about all that.
“Okay, anything else,” Annie says far too casually.
“I’m gay.”
Tommy really thinks that would be enough to shut this all down. LA is progressive place, but he knows the idea of giving a child to a single, gay man would probably still give people pause. Annie doesn’t miss a beat though.
“Noted. Anything else?”
Tommy takes a deep breath. “It’s basically just me. Apart from a cousin in Connecticut I don’t have any family.”
He spent a lot of time telling waiters that no one else is coming and nurses that they don’t need to call anybody, because there’s no one to call. That doesn’t change the fact that having to say ‘it’s just me’ still has a little bit of kick to it.
“That everything?” Annie says with a quirk of her eyebrow. This woman is formidable.
“I have weird work hours.”
“Arrangements can be made.”
“I’m big.” Annie just levels him with a look, but it makes sense to Tommy. “I mean, I’m a big guy and I know that can be intimidating for some people. I don’t want Wyatt to be scared.”
“Tommy, that boy has not once been scared of you.”
Tommy isn’t sure what else Annie wants. He’s honestly not sure why she’s still sitting here, and he feels bad for wasting her time. She obviously thinks he’s someone he’s not. And the thing is, he really doesn’t want to mention the other reason why she might need to rethink this, because it’s the one thing Tommy still struggles to say.
“I …. Um… I come from a … I had a bad …”
Annie reaches out and places her well-manicured hand on his arm. “Thomas G. Kinard. You were temporarily placed into foster care when you were fifteen while your father attended court-mandated anger management sessions.”
Tommy has to blink furiously to make sure he doesn’t start crying because he’s meant to be better than this and he definitely doesn’t want to be the guy who starts blubbering in public because his daddy didn’t love him. “I didn’t know I had a file.”
“I had to go digging to find it and I’m guessing Anthony didn’t just snap one day and take a random swing at the postman.”
“No ma’am.” He definitely didn’t.
The postman had just been asking about Tommy’s broken arm and Anthony who was already three sheets to the wind and angry at losing money on the races didn’t take kindly to a stranger asking about his business.
“Tommy, this isn’t coming out of the blue. I have done my research. More than just your file. You are a decorated firefighter-pilot and veteran. Everyone I talked to spoke very highly of you, mentioning your competency and your generosity. Chief Simpson says you’re a credit to the LAFD and that there is a reason they keep letting you get away with stealing aircraft.”
“You asked the chief about me?”
“I’m in a book club with his wife. Tommy, I’m not saying this will be easy, but I wouldn’t be bringing it up if I didn’t think I could make it happen. And you know, you’ve said all these reasons why it’s not option, but not once have you said that you wouldn’t want it.”
That’s because Tommy does. For a few moments he let himself picture it, what the life might look like. He let himself imagine a future that includes bedtime stories and making school lunches and dealing with temper tantrums and making sure that Wyatt gets all the love and safety he deserves. But that’s all it was: a fantasy.
The universe has gotten very good at proving to Tommy that type of future, with family and a sense of belonging, isn’t in the cards for him.
“What I want doesn’t matter. It’s about doing the best thing for Wyatt.”
“I have been doing this job for a long time and I think the best thing for that little boy is you. Yes, it would be unconventional, but nothing I have seen or heard has given me any pause.”
Tommy wants to know how Annie can be so sure. Because everything Tommy has just told her makes him seem like a sad sack with a shitty childhood who at 40 years old still hasn’t found any where he belongs except for alone in a cockpit. That’s hardly father of the year material.
But Annie does seem sure and that’s feeding that tiny part of Tommy that still knows how to have hope.
Maybe she’s right. Maybe. Tommy would like to think he’s a pretty good person nowadays and he’s helpful. Miller once said he was a gentle giant, and yeah, she was teasing but in a kind way. Tommy’s not an angry man and that’s a fact he will forever me proud of. And he has all this love and care in him just wanting somewhere to go.
Plus, Wyatt always smiles when he sees Tommy and maybe it’s just because he saved the kid’s life, but that has to count for something.
“Wyatt needs somebody to fight for him. Can you do that Tommy?”
Tommy never had anyone fight for him, not once, but he’s been fighting for survival since the day he was born, four weeks early to parents who never wanted him. And he’s made it, more than a little damaged, but he still here and he’s done that knowledge that he has always been fighting alone.
He doesn’t want Wyatt to have to go the rest of his life feeling like that. Not if he can do something about it.
“Yeah” Tommy says around the lump in his throat. “I can do that. I want to do that.”
“Good. I’ve got the first round of forms here for you to go over.” Annie says already digging through her oversized handbag.
“Bit presumptuous,” Tommy replies, still caught in a state of disbelief. He can’t believe this is happening. He was just meant to go grocery shopping today.
“Oh, I knew you would say yes.”
“How?”
Annie stops her rummaging to look him directly in the eye, and to his credit Tommy meets her gaze. “The one thing everyone I talked to told me is that you’re the guy that shows up. I had no doubt you would show up for Wyatt.”
——
Tommy is no stranger to feelings of regret.
He has regretted the person’s he’s been, defensive and sharp. He’s regretted the times he’s been cowardly and the times he’s had hope only to be metaphorically punched in the gut.
He felt regret when he didn’t measure the burgundy rug he bought for his bedroom that ended up being too big, so it went on his living room which pained sage green, meaning Tommy was stuck with a living room that looked like a Christmas nightmare for three weeks until he got the chance to repaint.
That night, after talking with Annie, Tommy waited for the feelings of regret or some sense of panic to come choke him at 2am. Honestly, he was counting on it. It doesn’t come.
It never does.
At no point during the entire process does Tommy ever doubt his decision.
The official plan is for Tommy to get his foster license and once Wyatt is in his care they can work on Tommy officially adopting him.
Tommy asks Captain Samuels for a letter of recommendation, as well as George from the VA who has known Tommy for years and seems to like him. It turns out Annie had already spoken to them both when she was doing her own reconnaissance. They were happy to do it and Samuels talked about Tommy potentially only working part time, forgoing groundwork entirely. Apparently, he has skills that the other pilots don’t so the LAFD is willing to be unusually accommodating if it means they keep him on.
When Tommy gets back to his car after that little conversation, he ends up crying and is eternally grateful there was no one else in the parking lot to see him in such a state.
Mrs Harrison is a schoolteacher who lives next door to him. She took early retirement when her husband got sick. Tommy took them both to doctor’s appointments occasionally and has been helping around the house and just generally checking in on her since he passed.
Annie got to her too.
(Honestly, the woman would make a brilliant private investigator).
Mrs Harrison comes over for tea on day and offers to help with childcare while Tommy is at work. She puts her hand on his arm when Tommy moves to take her empty cup to the kitchen as tells him how proud she is.
Tommy has meetings with Annie and his lawyer and submits countless forms and employment records and medical records. He has home visits and bares his soul in interviews because he knows he can’t be coy about this. Tommy has to make it clear that he wants to be Wyatt’s parent and he is willing to put the work in.
And then one day Annie comes over with a bottle of champagne and a smile and Tommy has to sit down before he knees go out on him.
She shows him the paperwork, and then shows him again, before telling him to go get his ass in the car so they can bring Wyatt home.
The emergency foster home Wyatt has been staying in is nice enough, but there are three other children there, all bigger and louder than Wyatt is so it’s not the best place for a boy who likes quiet and is prone to hiding.
Still Wyatt runs up and hugs Tommy the minute he gets through the door, dragging him by the hand to new at his new toy car. Eventually all three of them settle in the room Wyatt is sharing. Annie sitting on the edge of the bed, while lies down on the floor next to where Wyatt is playing.
After Tommy has properly appreciated Wyatt’s car, Annie clears her throat. “Wyatt, honey, you know how we talk about you might want to live?”
Annie motions to Tommy to continue, bumping his thigh with the toe of her shoe, and Tommy guesses this is first official act as a parent.
“Wyatt, my foster licence came through, which means, if you want, you can come live with me.”
Wyatt twists around so he’s looking directly at Tommy. “Really?”
“Really,” Tommy promises.
Wyatt forgoes replying, instead he reaches up and wraps his arms around Tommy’s neck, tucking his face into Tommy’s neck. In return, Tommy wraps him up in his arms and presses a soft kiss to Wyatt’s hair, vowing that Wyatt will never have to doubt how much he is loved.
40 years old and Tommy thinks this might be the first time he’s felt true happiness.
And just like that Tommy’s life completely changes.
He takes up the offer to work part time, which means he’s only flying now, and that alone seems too good to be true. He stocks his freezer with chicken nuggets and learns how to make meals other than breakfast. He spends his evenings watching Disney movies instead of rom-coms and when Tommy ends up humming Poor Unfortunate Souls at work one day the entire team, including Captain Samuels, gave him shit for it.
They really need to have that speaker taken away from them.
It’s not that he doesn’t have moments of loneliness, but his loneliness has changed shape.
He is still single and even before becoming a father Tommy was a long way off even thinking about dating again. His friendships haven’t really changed but he finds himself talking about his own life a lot more, mostly because he wants to talk about Wyatt.
Plus, Tommy wants Wyatt to have a full life, which means socialising.
They go to story time at the library, and Tommy joins the parents’ group chat, which involves a lot more talking about movies starring Keanu Reeves than he would have expected. Once a month they go to a children’s music group, and Tommy can’t help but laugh as Wyatt spends the entire car ride home complaining about the instructor playing the harmonica. Tommy guesses his kid isn’t going to be a Bob Dylan fan.
That perpetual longing for family that Tommy has spent so long trying and failing to make peace with has gone. And in its place is so much love and so much joy.
It’s not necessarily always easy though.
Tommy still has moments of doubt and more than once he has called Annie so she can reassure him that’s he doing okay. She just tends to laugh and tell him he’s doing fine, but that’s really all Tommy needs to hear.
Wyatt has his own moments.
Nightmares aren’t uncommon and Tommy has gotten very good at wiping away tears and stripping the sheets. When they first went shopping for a new bedding, Tommy realised Wyatt has a hard time making decisions, so usually Tommy gives him two to three options to choose between. In the end Wyatt chose a duvet cover with blue unicorns on it and a green quilt.
A few weeks in Tommy realised that beyond the boy’s stammering, Wyatt has a hard time understanding long sentences, which leads to them going to speech and language therapy fortnightly and Tommy joining an online forum so he can support Wyatt as much as he can.
But even when it’s two am and he’s stuck watching Happy Feet Two and stroking Wyatt’s hair in a desperate attempt to get him to fall back asleep, and Tommy is too exhausted to pretend he’s not genuinely emotional about the krill dancing along to Under Pressure, Tommy thinks that going to the hospital that day might be best decision he’s ever made.
Annie still checks in.
It’s during one of those visits, after Wyatt has gotten bored of making conversation and been excused to go play with his train set, and Tommy moves to clean up the coffee mugs and juice cup that Annie stops him with a hand on his arm.
Tommy thinks it’s a sign of progress that the gesture doesn’t immediately cause Tommy’s stomach to sink. He knows this isn’t how Annie delivers bad news, this is how she leads into to conversations she knows are going to poke at Tommy’s old wounds.
“Do you have a moment?”
“Careful, last time you said that I ended up with a kid.”
“Yeah, and you seem to be regretting that so much,” she says rolling her eyes. Annie then reaches into her bag and pulls out rainbow ringer-binder and pushes it across the table until it’s in front of him. “I wanted to show you these.”
“More forms?”
“They’re letters. That people wrote about you.”
Just once Tommy would like to have a conversation with Annie without being completely thrown for a loop. He reaches out a tentative hand towards the binder before thinking better of it.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. I thought I only needed two character witnesses.”
“Yeah, but apparently word got around. You ended up with a lot more. I’ve got letters from half the LAFD, a far few veterans, some cops, a lot of people that live in your neighbourhood, all saying that Wyatt deserves to be with you.”
Even with the evidence staring him in the face, Tommy can’t believe that’s true. His brain can’t compute that anyone would care about his life so much. Tommy can feel his face getting warm and his heartbeat is starting to feel like a jackhammer. This is usually the type of sentimental moment he would defuse with a sarcastic comment, but he doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to be pithy at the moment.
It’s too much.
A not insignificant part of him wants to just get up and leave, go and hide in his bedroom until Annie takes her ring-binder and leaves, but that’s not the type of example he wants to set for his son.
“Some are more involved with others.” Annie continues, undeterred by the fact that Tommy has suddenly gotten very teary-eyed. “I have one from a Detective Parker. Apparently, you helped repaint her house a year ago.”
“I ran into her husband. Saved him from buying the wrong paint and offered to lend a hand.” Tommy explains, pleased that his voice only cracks once.
It really wasn’t that big of a deal. He had no plans for his 72 off and he knows how much time and effort a job like that takes, he repainted his house a few years ago, so why wouldn’t he help lessen the load for someone else. Plus, he had met Parker at a couple scenes before her promotion and she always seemed like a hard worker.
“You, Tommy Kinard, are a strange man.”
Tommy knows he’s the guy that’s good for a favour. Part of it probably steams from a need to make up for the mistakes of his past, but he also just likes helping people. He’s had to do so much alone. He doesn’t want anyone else to. He doesn’t expect anything in return because that’s not why he does it. Still, he’s saved every thank you card he’s ever gotten.
But this is something else.
“You said you couldn’t be a dad to Wyatt because you were alone. I know this isn’t quite what you meant, but I thought you should know you have a lot of people in your corner rooting for you.”
Tommy is starting to get that.
“The rainbow was a nice touch,” he eventually chokes out.
“I thought you might appreciate it. I’ll let you go through them in your own time, but if you doubt yourself, I want you to look at that folder and hear me telling you that seeing you and Wyatt together, seeing how much better that little boy’s life has gotten because of you, that’s what makes my job worth it.”
Tommy starts roughly wiping at his eyes, only slightly embarrassed that this is what got to him to finally cry in front of Annie.
💜💜💜💜
Evan Buckley has had a weird year.
He discovered something new about himself, and probably didn’t look as closely at that as he should have. He fell in love with a wonderful guy only to be left confused and bereft when he left. He had a chance to get back with said wonderful guy only to ruin his own chances by being cruel and for reasons he still doesn’t quite understand himself, Buck never apologised.
Then Bobby died and the entire world turned grey.
Buck thinks he’s doing better now, finding pockets of joy, but it’s hard.
He misses Bobby so much, and his therapist pointed out he’s not just grieving his surrogate father, but the life he had before, when the 118 was a family and not just a fractured group of people trying their best.
The extended Han-Wilson family are only getting closer, and as much as Buck can rationalise that because he knows they’re all at the same stage of life and having kids changes things, he can’t help but feel like he’s standing on the outside looking in.
It also hurts that no one seems to realise that he’s been left alone in the cold.
He is still friends with Eddie, but there’s a distance there now that Buck doesn’t know how to bridge and if he’s honest he doesn’t know if he wants to.
But therapy is helping and he’s trying to build a life for himself outside the 118.
He joins a cooking class and while he wouldn’t say he’s friends with the other cooks, they’re friendly and its fun trading recipes. He even managed to get Francis’ family recipe for Beef Wellington.
He has an apartment he likes well enough even if it still doesn’t feel like home and he’s making the appropriate moves for advancing his career. He also is making an actual effort at being friends with Ravi and finds himself looking forward to their afterwork drinks, even if he always ends up disappointed that he never sees Tommy there.
Buck can even say his nephew’s name without feeling like his heart is being ripped out of his chest, or at least he can most of the time.
And even though things will never be the same, they still have family dinners with everyone turning up at Athena’s new place once a fortnight. Technically everyone is meant to bring a plate, but Buck still ends up doing most of the cooking, because everyone else is busy and there is no way Buck is going to disrespect Bobby’s legacy by letting his team go hungry.
So, Buck thinks all things considered, he’s doing okay.
Or at least he is until Chimney decides to drop a bombshell during family dinner.
“I think Tommy might have a kid,” Chim blurts out the second everyone has filled their plates.
Buck doesn’t think he’s ever moved so fast as he turns to stare at his brother-in-law. It’s a wonder he manages to keep his grip on his knife and fork.
Seeing as he’s the only one not in a state of shock, Ravi is the first to respond. “That’s cool.”
“That seems unlikely,” Hen says slowly, like she’s trying to work out how Chimney might have come to that conclusion. “Do you want to explain?”
“So, I was finally added to captain’s group chat, they have a group chat by the way. Who knew? And then a message popped up from Captain Samuels from the 217 saying, and I quote: the adoption went through for Kinard. I mean he might have adopted a dog or something, good for him if he did, but I don’t know why that would be the talk of the LAFD. Then again, I don’t know why him adopting a kid would be either, but everyone seemed very happy for him.”
“Breathe, honey.” Maddie says, gently rubbing Chimney’s thigh.
Buck doesn’t even know how to process all that. Individually he knows what those words all mean, but right now Chimney might as well be speaking gibberish.
Tommy might have a kid.
It’s only been five months since they last saw each other at the funeral, and Buck doesn’t think Tommy had a kid then. Then again, they didn’t really talk much. Buck knows Tommy asked how he was holding up; Buck gave some vague answer. Tommy said he was there if Buck ever needed anything.
Tommy also texted once, just saying that he hoped Buck was okay, and Buck’s not proud of it, but he never replied. It’s just he was busy dealing with Eddie at the time and it didn’t seem fair to burden Tommy with all of that, and then Buck was busy with his nephew and then his move and time passed, and it seemed too weird to reply and now suddenly Tommy has a kid.
It doesn’t make sense, but that doesn’t mean Buck can’t picture it. Tommy with a baby strapped to his chest, whispering lullabies. Or chasing a child around the backyard next to a playground that Tommy spent an afternoon building. Or making dinner for a troubled teen who needs someone with Tommy’s patience to help get their life on track.
Buck knows first-hand that Tommy is a very caring person. Any kid would be lucky to have him as father.
But Tommy can’t have a kid. That’s life-changing and Buck would have heard about it. Something that big happening to Tommy. Surely, he would have to know. Unless Tommy didn’t want Buck knowing.
The room suddenly feels very, very warm.
“Maybe he’s transferring, and they just phrased it weirdly,” Eddie says before helping himself to another serving of mash potatoes.
How he can even think about eating a time like this is beyond Buck.
Tommy might have adopted a child, or a dog, or he’s transferring, although Buck doesn’t think the last one seems likely. Tommy loves flying too much to go back to solely groundwork. Unless he’s transferring out-of-state. Surely, Buck would have heard something. But then Buck hasn’t heard anything about a child. Or a dog.
This is terrible.
Buck didn’t apologise and he didn’t reach out and now Tommy is probably leaving for Australia with his kid and his dog and Buck is never going to see him again.
And Eddie has the audacity to be thinking about mash potatoes.
“Did you ask about it?” Hen asks, always the most rational one in the room.
“Well, that would be a little lame. ‘Hey, I know you’ve only just added me to this group chat, but can you catch me up with all the gossip’.”
Hen doesn’t bother hiding her eye roll. “I meant Tommy?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t think of that.”
“They probably just mean he adopted a pet. I’m sure Captain Samuels will be posting a photo of a puppy as soon as she can.” Maddie says calmly, looking directly at Buck like she can pass along some of that serenity to him.
Seeing as Buck is already mentally planning a trip to Australia that ship might have sailed.
“You’re being awfully quiet.” Hen says, tipping her wine glass in Athena’s direction.
Athena just sighs. “Tommy just adopted a four-year-old boy named Wyatt.”
Oh, Buck thinks, Tommy has a son.
Tommy has a four-year-old son named Wyatt.
Wyatt Kinard.
That’s a nice name.
“How … how do you know?” Buck asks, finally finding his voice, as feeble as it might currently sound.
“A lot of people who know Tommy wrote letters of support. I heard about it from Detective Parker. So, I wrote a letter too.”
“What did … what did you say?”
“That Tommy Kinard is a good man and would make a wonderful parent. And if my husband were here, he would be saying the exact same thing.”
Yeah, that sounds about right.
“I’m glad you did that.” The thing is Buck truly means it. He wants to be heartbroken and part of him is. There is some new grief that has just buried itself in his chest. But he’s also so, so happy in a way that’s entirely unexpected. Because Tommy has a son, and they might not have ever talked about kids, but Buck knows, he knows, how much Tommy will be loving being a parent.
He also knows how much those letters would have meant to him. Buck only wishes he could have written one too.
He would have written a really good one.
“I have a photo, if you’d like to see.” Athena says softly after a moment.
Buck has to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Please.”
Everyone else at the table has seemingly turned to statues, as Athena gets up and walks over to the mantle. They’re all watching him, waiting for the inevitable crash out, but Buck can’t bring himself to care. He’s about to see Tommy’s son.
“Tommy must have found out about the letters because he sent everyone thank you cards. Mine came with this.” Athena says, gently placing a polaroid in front of Buck.
It shows a little boy with brown hair and the biggest smile sitting in Tommy’s living room, holding out a green car towards the camera. He must be showing Tommy who’s taking the photo.
‘Thank You - Tommy’ is written down the bottom of the polaroid in familiar uniform letters. At least Tommy’s handwriting hasn’t changed. But there right next to it a very wonkily drawn W.
Buck reaches out and traces the letter with his finger.
Tommy has a son.
Tommy has a family that doesn’t include Buck.
——
Buck would like to think it’s sign of growth that he didn’t immediately drive over to Tommy’s and demand answers. No, he waited a week and a half, dodging a lot of pitying looks from his friends, and planned out what he wants to say.
Mainly congratulations and sorry.
Then wearing his best polo shirt, he knocks of the door to Tommy’s modest Californian ranch-style home and acts like his heart isn’t threatening to escape through his mouth as he waits for Tommy to open the door.
He looks so happy is all Buck can think when Tommy finally appears.
Tommy is just in a grey Henley and the jeans Buck knows Tommy only wears around the house because they’re stained and worn. His strong arms are crossed over his chest, showing off his muscles in a way that Buck still finds a little breath taking. He’s also wearing a blue train conductor’s hat which is definitely too small for him. It should look stupid, but because it’s Tommy, it doesn’t.
And then there are his eyes. There is a lightness in them that seems heartbreakingly unfamiliar.
“Nice hat,” Buck says, gesturing to the offending accessory. Tommy must have forgotten he was wearing it because he hastily removes it from his head. He’s caught off guard. Blinking furiously, the pilot’s gaze keeps shifting from the hat in his and to Buck like he can’t believe his eyes.
“You and Wyatt playing trains?” Buck asks.
There’s no point in Buck pretending he doesn’t know, although he more than a little curious to see how Tommy would have started the surprise-I-have-a-kid-now conversation.
“Yeah. We’re playing trains,” Tommy says with the softest smile, and Buck is reminded just how much he still loves this man. “Do you want to come in?”
“You have a kid.” Buck says as Tommy leads him to the living room and Buck tries hard not to think all the other times they’ve been in this position. That first time Tommy gave him a tour, trying hard to contain his excitement as he talked about the how he did the herringbone flooring himself.
“Yeah, I have a kid.” Tommy replies quietly but Buck can tell how overjoyed Tommy is that he gets to say those words.
There’s no denying there’s something different about Tommy. Buck doesn’t want to call it confidence because he’s made the mistake twice now of assuming Tommy is completely self-assured and it’s cost him, but there’s an ease about Tommy now that so entirely new and Buck can’t help but stare.
It’s a good look.
“If you want to sit, I can go get him,” Tommy offers and really Buck didn’t expect to be introduced so soon, but he can’t deny that he’s excited at the prospect. And nervous, but mostly excited.
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Okay,” Tommy says more to himself than Buck, before walking towards the bedrooms.
It’s not like Buck assumed Tommy was just existing in stasis since the break-up, the hook-up and everything else, but it’s more than a little confronting seeing the physical evidence of just how much Tommy’s life has changed.
Next to television is a framed selfie that Tommy must have taken of him and Wyatt in the park. The old detective novels that once lined the lower shelves of the bookcases have been replaced with toys and spare blankets. The rug is far plusher than the thread-bare old red one Tommy had before. Perched on the other end of the sofa is a stuffed dinosaur that seems to be staring into Buck’s soul.
Buck would bet anything that if he were to go into the kitchen, Wyatt’s art would be covering the fridge.
It’s obvious that it’s not just Tommy’s home anymore.
And then the man in question appears and in his arms is Wyatt, and look Buck thinks all children are precious but that is one cute kid. He’s all big eyes and spiky hair and the hand that is not currently wrapped around Tommy’s neck is holding a brown stuffed horse.
“Evan, this is Wyatt. Wyatt this is my friend Evan.”
Calling him a friend is a kindness that Buck isn’t sure he deserves, because if him and Tommy are friends, then Buck has been a pretty bad one lately. He never should have left Tommy on read.
Buck hopes he manages to hide his disappointment when Tommy sits down with Wyatt in the armchair instead of next to Buck on the couch. Buck gets it. He’s stranger and Tommy doesn’t want Wyatt to get overwhelmed. It’s just the two metres or so between them feels like a gulf.
Then Wyatt waves at him and any bad feelings Buck might have basically disappear.
He’s such a little sweetheart.
“Do you think Earp would like to say hi to Evan?” Tommy asks Wyatt after he’s got them settled in the chair. Wyatt is sitting in Tommy’s lap, leaning against Tommy’s arm, and just looking at Buck with his big brown eyes.
Buck thinks that he has loved Tommy voice since he first heard him shout Chimney’s name across the Harbour parking lot. He’s heard him try speak after he’s been kissed breathless and late at night when he’s been half asleep yet still asking Buck question about his recent research binge. Hearing Tommy talk to his kid is something else entirely.
The sheer amount of tenderness is a lot.
(And that small, treacherous part of Buck’s brain is thinking how much sooner he could have heard that voice of things had been different).
“Earp s-s-says hello.”
And then Tommy is smiling in that way where it takes over his entire face.
It’s been so long since Buck saw that smile and this wave of want crashes over him. He wants to see Tommy smile like that all the time. He wants to be the one to make him smile. He wants to witness Tommy and Wyatt together, and all the little routines they’ve set up and the way Tommy sounds when he’s reading Winnie the Pooh.
Buck wants to go visit the version of himself from that awful morning and shake him and tell him all that he’s about to miss out on.
“I like Earp’s name. It’s a good one.”
Wyatt breaks into a big smile at that, looking up at Tommy too make sure he heard Buck’s compliment as well. Buck thinks Wyatt with his little horse named Earp might be one of the cutest things he’s ever seen.
“Well, I guess you know what’s been happening in my life.” Tommy says gesturing at Wyatt who seems happy to just listen to them talk. “What about you? How are things with the 118.”
One of the things Buck has missed the most about Tommy is how he always seems genuinely interested in what Buck has to say. Buck thinks he could list the ingredients in Fruit Loops and Tommy would still give him all his full attention.
He should have appreciated that more.
“Maddie had the baby,” Buck starts because that’s really the best thing that’s happened.
“That’s great. Everyone’s healthy?”
“Yeah, they’re doing well. His name is Robert Nash Han.”
Buck can tell that Tommy is searching for the right thing to say because the hand that isn’t around Wyatt comes up to scratch the back of his neck.
“You can say it’s weird.” Buck offers after watching Tommy open and close his mouth a few times.
“I mean it’s a nice gesture,” Tommy says with a slight grimace. “But that’s got to be hard.”
Of course, Tommy would be the first person to acknowledge that.
“Yeah, it’s a little difficult,” Buck says with a shaky laugh. “But I’m here to talk about you guys. How did this happen?”
Wyatt perks up at that. “There was a f-f-fire.”
Buck kind of figured as much. “You went beyond the glass doors?”
“I went beyond the glass doors,” Tommy confirms. “Multiple times. Then Annie, that’s Wyatt’s social worker, asked if I had ever thought about adopting, and I said yes.”
The horrible, selfish part of Buck can’t help but think about how Tommy was able to brave in that moment, but not for Buck, because surely parenthood is way more terrifying than moving in with your boyfriend, but Buck quickly realises that’s not fair to Tommy or to Wyatt.
Tommy was brave for Buck so many times. He was brave when he first kissed him, and when he admitted to driving past the loft and when he made that amazing breakfast. He was brave when he stole another helicopter because Buck asked him to.
It just seems that Tommy’s bravery comes and goes in waves, and it’s unfortunate those waves never coincided with the times Buck managed to put his foot in his mouth.
“I’m guessing Athena told you?” Tommy says, pulling Buck out of his spiral.
“Kind of. Chimney was the one who first brought it up. Apparently, you’re the favourite topic in the captains’ group chat.”
“Hear that, Wyatt. You’re the talk of the town.” Tommy says softly, running his hand through his son’s hair.
Wyatt just gives a tired smile in response. Buck had noticed the boy had been leaning further and further into Tommy’s embrace while they had been talking and had started blinking slower and slower. Tommy must have realised to, because he shifted so Wyatt was leaning more against Tommy’s chest than his arm. Sure, enough within a few more seconds of Tommy stroking his hair, Wyatt’s eyes slip shut.
“Hey, can you pass me that blanket.” Tommy says, gesturing the folded blue blanket in Buck’s reach.
The rational part of Buck knows that it’s just because Tommy doesn’t want to disturb his son, but it still feels significant, like Buck is being invited into Tommy and Wyatt’s world.
“Is this Stitch?” Buck asks when he takes a closer look at it.
“Yeah. We watched Lilo and Stitch last weekend. Emotional night at the Kinard household.”
Buck doesn’t remember a lot about that movie, but he knows it deals with themes of belonging and family, so it’s pretty easy to see how that would have affected the two Kinards.
“May I?” Buck asks when he gets to the chair.
Tommy gives him the smallest smile in return. “Sure”
Buck’s heart swells at the show of trust. They didn’t exactly part on great terms, but still Tommy is happy to let Buck drape a blanket across he’s sleeping son.
“He’s alright?” Buck asks, returning back to his spot on the sofa, although he sits on the end that’s closest to Tommy and Wyatt. Buck remembers Jee at that age, where she would just keep going and going until she suddenly stopped, but still, he wants to make sure.
“Yeah. We had speech and language therapy this morning. That tends to make him tired.”
“Because of the stutter.” Buck wasn’t going to bring it up, but it was fairly obvious that Wyatt has a speech impediment, worse than Buck’s ever was. He remembers how teachers would look at him when he tripped over his words, and that thought of Wyatt have to be judged for that on top of everyone else he’s been through breaks Buck’s heart a little.
But then again, Wyatt has Tommy, and there’s no doubt in Buck’s mind that Tommy will do anything to support his son and help him with any insecurities.
“Partly. Wyatt was left alone a lot when he was little, so he didn’t get exposed to words, I guess. They’ve explained it in proper terms, but his language skills are less than they should be. And then there’s the stutter.”
“God, I can’t believe you have a kid.”
“Neither can I some days and he’s so great, Evan. He likes trains, and the colour green and he doesn’t like bananas and he told me that, which might not seem like much, but is a very big deal.”
Buck might have been pretty bad at acknowledging it at the time, but he can recognise now just how much Tommy wanted a family of his own, and now listening to Tommy talk about Wyatt, seeing Tommy with him, it’s genuinely moving.
Buck is getting to see the man he loves’ dream come true and he can’t help but get a little misty eyed over it.
Tommy notices, because of course he does, but misinterprets, because Buck has also realised sometimes Tommy is a bit of an idiot.
“Shit, Evan. I’m sorry. I’m going on and on about how happy I am, and you’ve been going through hell…”
“No, no. These are happy tears, Tommy I promise.” Buck interrupts, quickly wiping his face. “It’s just really nice to be reminded good things happen.”
“Oh, okay. Look I’ll put Wyatt to bed and then we can talk properly. If you want to make coffee, everything is in the same place.”
——
Buck takes it as a good sign that Tommy sits next to him on the sofa when he returns and tries not to dwell on the way their hand brush when Buck hands him his cup of overly sweet coffee.
“Did you think about telling me?”
“Yes,” Tommy says, his smile turning sadder than it was before. “I wondered what you might think. If you would try to talk me out of it or support me. But you have your family and you guys were dealing with so much. Honestly, I figured you had better things to concern yourself with.”
“I would have supported you.” Buck says quietly. They are both being so soft with one another like they’re aware of how fragile this moment is. Buck turns so he’s facing Tommy squarely on and takes both his hands in his. He is so, so pleased when Tommy lets him. “I’m sorry for what I said that morning.”
“Evan, you don’t need to do that.”
“I do Tommy. You were being open about your insecurities, and sure you could have phrased yourself better, but instead of being compassionate I was angry and mean and I hurt you and please don’t pretend that I didn’t.”
“It stung a little.” Tommy admits, and Buck runs a soothing thumb over Tommy’s knuckle. He knows he’s too late, but he still wants to try comfort the hurt.
“I know it did. And I’m sorry for not replying to you. I was having a weird time and then I got in my head about how much time had passed.”
“That’s okay, I figured as much.”
In anticipation for what he’s about to say next Buck’s hands start to shake. The only reason they’re not shaking more is because they’re clasped in Tommy’s and Tommy has the steadiest hands Buck has ever seen.
They’re pilot’s hands.
“Tommy, I really miss you.”
“I miss you too.” It’s barely a whisper, but Buck hears it clear as day.
And that’s really the crux of the matter, after all this time, the tragedies and the wins, they still miss one another and as Buck said why be apart when they can be together.
“I want to try again. I have for a while if I’m being honest. And I know we would have to go so slow, that you need me to go slow, especially now with Wyatt. And I can do that, I know I can.”
It’s Tommy’s turn to get misty eyes as he squeezes Buck’s hands. “Evan, if we were to do this, Wyatt still has to be my first priority.”
“I know.” Buck says sincerely.
The thing is Buck has spent the last few months making peace with the fact he isn’t anyone’s top priority and that’s fine. Really. He figures he comes in a solid fourth place with Maddie and he would like to think he’s in Eddie’s top five, but he doesn’t want to look at that one too closely. He knows he made Bobby’s top three, but Bobby isn’t here anymore.
It was nice during those six months with Tommy putting him first and if he’s being honest Buck probably took advantage of it, not stopping to think about whether he was doing the same thing for Tommy.
And Tommy putting Buck first was part of the problem, because that meant Tommy was putting himself second. He was so focused on Buck’s needs that he neglected mentioning his own until things spiralled out of either one of their controls.
So Buck is perfectly happy not being Tommy’s top priority.
“I’ve changed.” Tommy admits, a single tear making its way down his cheek. Buck brushes it away and is struck by the fact that Tommy is letting Buck see this. He’s not hiding, he’s not running away, but he’s sitting here with Buck in all their messy emotions.
“So have I.”
It’s a completely different change than what Tommy has gone through, seeing as Tommy has become a father and Buck has lost his, but a change, nonetheless. But Buck thinks maybe those changes could help them. Tommy is more settled now and Buck less dependent on the 118.
‘But Tommy,” he continues, “I really want to meet the person you are now.”
“Me too. I mean I want to meet who you are now.” Tommy says with a watery laugh.
“I get what you mean. We could be Evan and Tommy 2.0.”
“2.0” Tommy echoes and for the first time in a long time Buck feels hopeful about the future.