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Season Three : Episode Six, Halloween

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October, 2019

The 118's engine and ambulance truck rolled to a halt at the edge of the Harvest Festival grounds.
Bobby stepped down from the engine first, scanning the scene before making his way to a parked school bus.

A group of schoolchildren peeked nervously through the windows, and a disheveled teacher stepped forward towards the window.

"Two of my students," she said breathlessly, "they were attacked by crows. They're trapped in there."

She pointed toward a bright red barn just a few feet away. A murder of crows perched ominously on the roof and fence posts, their black eyes following every movement.

The rest of the crew—Eddie, Hen, Chimney, Becca, and Violet—joined Bobby, squinting toward the barn.

"I think I've seen this movie," Chimney muttered.

Bobby's voice was steady. "Okay, let's gear up. Turnouts and head protection. Let's go."

As the crew pulled on their turnout gear, Eddie, Hen, and Violet moved a gurney toward the barn. Bobby, Becca, and Chimney trailed close behind. Chimney fiddled with his name tag, which suddenly fell to the ground with a metallic clink.

"Damn clasp," he sighed.

Becca glanced back, amused. "It's fine, Chim. Forget the nametag—we all know who you are."

"This is weird," Eddie said as he rolled the gurney over gravel. "You see crows all over the city. Never heard about them attacking anybody."

"And that's because crows are very docile," Hen replied. "They don't attack unless they're provoked."

"So... no sudden movements, and we should be good, right?" Violet asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Hen confirmed, calm but focused.

Chimney's tag clattered again to the ground. "Damn it."

Suddenly, a crow swooped down and landed a few feet away. The crew froze.

"Just leave it, Chim," Bobby said quietly.

"Copy that," Chimney replied, standing still.

"Everybody stay calm," Bobby instructed. They pulled down their visors and moved cautiously toward the barn.

Inside, the scent of hay and something iron-like filled the air. One boy—Riley—sat on a bale of hay and stood quickly as the crew entered.

"Over here," he called. "Dean's cut up real bad."

Bobby approached him. "How about you, you okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Riley said, voice a little shaky.

"Eddie, Violet—check him out," Bobby ordered.

The duo crouched beside the boy while Chimney and Hen tended to Dean. The other boy was pale and trembling, deep claw marks visible across his neck as he stood.

"All right, kiddo," Chimney said gently. "Let's get you up so we can take a look."

"Let's get those irrigated," Hen added. "Make sure no major arteries were hit."

Dean's eyes widened. "Major arteries? Am I gonna die?"

"Look, she was just kidding, buddy," Chimney assured him with a calming smile.

Hen crouched beside him. "So Dean, tell me—those crows just attacked you guys out of nowhere?"

"It was crazy. Tell 'em, Riley," Dean insisted.

Riley hesitated, uncertain. "Uh... yeah. It was like they were possessed or something."

Becca tilted her head, unconvinced. "Really? You sure it didn't have anything to do with those rocks you guys threw at them?"

Riley immediately turned. "He did it."

"Liar!" Dean barked.

"I tried to stop him!" Riley added.

"Shut up!"

Violet smirked. "Oh kids... They can never lie to save themselves."

Chimney, standing near the window, stiffened. "Cap."

Bobby joined him, and together they stared through the barn window.

"They know we're in here," Chimney whispered.

"No," Hen corrected, stepping beside them. "They know they're in here. Crows are smart. And they hold grudges."

"You think they're waiting for these boys to come out?" Bobby asked.

"They've been known to remember the faces of their tormentors years later... and still attack," Hen said.

"Oh, they're bye-crows. Great," Chimney muttered.

"So how do we get these guys past them?" Eddie asked.

"They're looking for two kids," Violet said thoughtfully.

"We give 'em something else," Bobby concluded.

Moments later, the barn door creaked open. Chimney and Becca stepped out first, slowly and deliberately. Eddie and Hen wheeled Dean—now bandaged and resting on the gurney—out carefully. Bobby had given his helmet and turnout coat to Riley to hide his face. Violet hovered nearby, shielding him as best she could.

"So what happens if they fly over here?" Chimney asked uneasily.

"Well," Hen said, "if you make eye contact with a crow, it could change its behavior."

"For better or worse?" Eddie asked.

"Unclear," Hen replied.

Becca raised a brow. "Hen, how do you know all this stuff about crows?"

"Yeah," Violet added, "What are you, a bird expert?"

Hen shrugged. "No expert. Just like to research weird things. Plus, I read it in a book one time."

Suddenly, a crow swooped low in front of Chimney and Becca. Both froze. Chimney instinctively threw out an arm in front of her.

"Whoa, guys," he said as the bird landed a few feet away, watching him.

"He's making eye contact with me," Chimney whispered. "He's not attacking. Go," he
whispered to the others. "Go, go, go."

The crew moved slowly toward the ambulance and engine, shielding the boys as best they could. Chimney lingered behind, reaching into his pocket.

"Hey, little buddy," he said softly, crouching. "You hungry, pal, huh?"

He tossed a small piece of a granola bar onto the ground. The crow blinked and stepped forward.

"How about a nice, delicious granola bar? Yeah? Here you go." He smiled tightly. "Nice little birdie... Nice... symbol of death and pestilence."

The crow pecked at the granola, and Chimney took the opportunity to quietly retreat, catching up with the rest of the team.

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It was late afternoon and inside Becca's kitchen, Buck crouched in front of the lower cabinet, focused, tongue slightly out in concentration as he secured the last hinge. The once-loose cabinet door now sat perfectly aligned, no longer creaking or hanging off its frame.

From the doorway, Becca leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, watching him with quiet amusement.

"You know," Buck said without turning around, sensing her presence, "if I'd known you were gonna stand there and stare all day, I would've taken my shirt off."

Becca raised an eyebrow, her tone playful as she replied, "Cool it down, Buckley. I just came to see what's going on in here."

Buck chuckled and stood up, brushing his hands together as he proudly opened and shut the cabinet a few times. It moved smoothly now, no resistance, no sound.

"All finished," he said, turning toward her.

"I could've done that, you know," she said with a smirk.

"I know," Buck replied easily. "Just doing a simple favor."

"Well... thanks again," she said, her voice softening.

"Does this count as a point?" he asked, flashing her that familiar grin.

Becca stepped closer, the distance between them shrinking.

"I guess it does," she said.

Buck's breath hitched slightly, his eyes searching hers as it seemed he was leaning closer towards her, but her hand came up, resting lightly on his chest.

"Not so fast," Becca added, her voice low, teasing. "You've still got some earning to do, friend."

Buck groaned in playful frustration. "Come on, Becks, you're making it really hard. Don't you think I've done enough?"

She tilted her head, smiling. "Hmm, not yet. You've still got to do one more thing."

"And what's that?" he asked, leaning in just a little.

"Survive your first few days back which starts tomorrow," she said, voice light, but her gaze steady.

"Seriously?" Buck asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah. If you can handle your first couple of days being back, then you've got yourself a date with me." Becca Said

A slow smile spread across Buck's face. "So I make it through tomorrow, and we finally—finally—have our long overdue date?"

"Sí," she answered, drawing out the word playfully.

"Well then start picking out your outfit, 'cause tomorrow's gonna be an easy day," he said, confidence gleaming in his eyes.

"Whatever you say," Becca replied with a smirk.

Their eyes locked again, the air between them thick with tension, the kind that had been building for months, electric, promising, and on the verge of something neither of them wanted to hold back from anymore.

"Mom! Buck!"

The voice of Aryana cut through the moment like a siren. Becca and Buck stepped back quickly, as if reality had snapped them back into place.

"Yeah?" Becca called out.

"Dylan's got his head stuck in the stair railings!" Aryana shouted from upstairs.

Becca blinked, sighing as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "How did he do that?"

"I be him $5 he couldn't do it, so he proved me wrong!" Bryan yelled.

"I tried to stop them but they're Idiots," Aryana Said, her voice trailing off.

"I need some help! My head hurts!" came Dylan's distressed voice from above.

Becca turned to Buck with a look of tired amusement. "You wanna—?"

Buck was already moving. "Sure. I'll get some butter."

"It's in the fridge," Becca called after him.

Buck opened the fridge and pulled out a stick of butter, shaking his head as he closed the door. Together, they left the kitchen, heading toward yet another mini-crisis.

The next day the 118 firehouse was dressed up in its Halloween best—fake cobwebs draped from the ceiling beams, some hay, a few plastic skeletons hung on the walls, and a smiling jack-o'-lantern flickered in the corner with a flameless candle.

And in walked Buck, a wide grin lighting up his face. He wore a black leather jacket, a nice shirt, jeans, and carried his well-worn duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes lit up as he took in the familiar sight.

"H-hey, how's it going?" he said, passing a couple of his colleagues.

One gave him a brief nod. Another didn't even look up.

"Hey—um," Buck tried again, a bit quieter now, but was met with silence as everyone kept to their routines.

His smile faltered. He shifted the strap of his bag and walked further inside, glancing around with an air of anticipation. But the room offered no welcome, no cheers or hugs or even a "good to see you."

A few minutes later, Buck sat in the locker room, now dressed in his uniform. He bent over, tying the laces of his boots with slow, steady movements. His expression was thoughtful, tinged with disappointment.

"Welcome back," came a familiar voice.

Buck looked up to see Hen standing nearby, a small white pastry box in her hands.

"You are the first person to say that to me," Buck said, sitting up straighter. "Starting to feel like I should've brought a sweater 'cause I am definitely catching a chill."

Hen gave him a sympathetic look and took a seat next to him on the bench. "You got friends here, Buck. But they all feel like they gotta follow Cap's lead. He's still—"

"Not in a congratulatory cake and banner place yet," Buck finished with a faint smile.

Hen held out the box. "Hey. Red velvet," she said, her tone light, trying to lift his spirits. "It bleeds when you cut it."

Buck grinned, cracking open the lid and peeking inside. "I missed you guys."

"Hey, how is the, uh, baby-making going?" he asked with a sly smile. "You and Karen knocked up yet?"

Hen let out a dry chuckle. "Mm, it's a long process. More twists and turns than you might expect. It's good to have you back," She said sincerely as she stood.

"And hey... thanks for this." Buck gestured to the box and then to her in general. "And for not feeling like you need to follow Bobby's lead."

Hen paused and glanced over her shoulder. "I march to the beat of my own drum. Always have. You should too."

Buck watched her go, a little warmth finally finding its way back into his chest. Buck then left the locker room, and stepped into the main area of the station. That's when he saw them.

Becca and Violet had just walked in together, both in uniform, chatting and laughing softly. Becca's blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, Violet walked beside her, sipping from her water bottle, her eyes scanning the room.

"Hey," Buck called out, a hopeful lift in his voice.

Violet looked up first. "Hey!" she said brightly, walking over and wrapping him in a brief but warm hug. "Welcome back, Buck."

"Thanks, nice to see you Vi," he smiled as she pulled away.

Then his eyes shifted, locking onto Becca. "Good morning," he said, voice a little lower, a little softer—just for her.

Becca tilted her head and batted her lashes at him, a flirty little smirk playing on her lips. "Morning, Buckley," she replied, her tone dripping with playful warmth.

Violet let out a laugh and stepped between them. "Okay, guys, let's keep the PDA at a minimum. We're at work."

Becca rolled her eyes. "Relax, Violet."

Just then, Eddie walked in, rubbing his eyes with one hand, a yawn barely suppressed. He looked like he hadn't slept much.

"Morning," Violet greeted.

"Morning," Eddie mumbled back.

"Hey, Eddie," Becca chimed in.

He nodded to her. "Hey."

Buck stepped forward, eyes narrowing at the sight of a dark bruise on Eddie's forearm. "Whew, dude, are you okay? That's a monster."

Eddie looked down at it, then waved it off. "Just roughhousing with my kid."

Buck raised a brow. "Were you playing with hammers?"

"Nothing you need to be concerned with," Eddie replied quickly, avoiding Buck's eyes. Buck's smile wavered slightly, tension suddenly pressing between them.

Before it could get too awkward, Chimney appeared beside them. "Welcome back, Firefighter Buckley," he said, offering his hand.

Buck took it gratefully. "Thanks, Chim. Glad to be back."

"Alright," came Bobby's voice from nearby. He stood by the whiteboard, tablet in hand. "Now that we've got that out of the way, morning briefing—"

He was cut off by the sudden blare of the emergency alarm.

In a flash, the team moved into action. Helmets on, gear secured, footsteps thundered toward the rigs.

Bobby held out a hand, stopping Buck. "Buck, you're man behind today."

Buck blinked, confused. "Uh, wh—I'm not going with you guys? Cap—"

"My house, my rules, remember?" Bobby said, his voice cool. "You stay put."

And with that, he turned and moved toward the engine. Buck stood there, stunned for a beat, watching as his team geared up and filed onto the engine.

Becca paused at the engine door, met his eyes, and gave him a reassuring smile. It's okay, the look seemed to say. Hang in there. She gave him a soft nod before climbing in and closing the door.

The engine roared, followed by the ambulance, and just like that, they were gone—sirens echoing as they pulled out, leaving Buck alone in the quiet firehouse.

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After work Becca is seen walking through the aisles of a costume store, trailing her fingers along a row of glittery hats and oversized sunglasses.

Rosie walked beside her, sipping on a half-melted iced coffee and carrying two ridiculous wigs she insisted they try on just for fun. It was one of those moments they didn't get too often—just the two of them, no kids, no chaos, just catching up.

"So," Becca said, eyeing a Cleopatra costume, "how was work today? Any drama?"

Rosie snorted, already bracing to launch into her story. "Girl. We had this guy come in because he thought it'd be a good idea to ride a grocery cart downhill. Lost control, slammed into a pole. Dislocated his shoulder and somehow punctured his thigh. It was a whole scene. I ended up scrubbing in to assist in the OR, thanks to my Cheif Resident."

Becca blinked. "A grocery cart?"

Rosie raised her brows. "People are wild, Becca. Especially around the holidays."

Becca shook her head with a laugh. "Sounds like a party. Meanwhile, I had to save two kids from getting slaughtered by crows."

Rosie nearly choked on her coffee. "What?"

Becca nodded, amused. "I'm serious. These kids threw rocks at them, and these crows just went berserk. It was something straight out of a horror movie."

Rosie widened her eyes. "And I thought my day was interesting, Anything else exciting?"

Becca hesitated for a second, then said, "Well, Buck's back."

Rosie raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. "Oh yeah, I heard that. Good. And how's that going?"

Becca shrugged, "His first day went okay-"

but before she could finish, Rosie leaned in with a smirk and said, "No, no—I meant, how's that going. Between you and Buck."

Becca couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "It's going good."

"Did you two go on that date yet?" Rosie asked, pretending not to already know the answer.

"No," Becca replied, sighing but still grinning. "We've got this thing going. He said he wants to earn his way to a date with me."

Rosie leaned on a display of pirate hats, clearly enjoying the tea. "And how exactly has he done that?"

Becca chuckled. "Well... he fixed my cabinet door that I've been meaning to get to for months. Then, he buttered my kid's head out of the stair railings—don't ask. And he's been really thoughtful, like small things—checking in, showing up when I don't ask, that kind of stuff. He's... almost there, don't worry. The date will happen."

Rosie nodded approvingly. "Nothing like a little game to keep things interesting before starting something real."

Becca smiled in agreement. "Exactly."

They paused at a rack of Halloween costumes. Becca flipped through a few lackluster options while Rosie kept browsing.

"So," Becca said, "what are you and Justin going as this year? Don't tell me you're doing something cutesy like peanut butter and jelly again."

Rosie laughed. "Oh, no. No matching this year. We decided to go rogue. Individual costumes."

Becca gave her a look of respect. "I like that. When Justin and I were still together, he loved matching costumes. It was cute for a while—especially with the kids—but after a few years, it got repetitive. I mean, how many versions of Bonnie and Clyde can you do?"

"Agreed," Rosie said with a chuckle, pulling out a costume from the rack. "How about this one?"

Becca looked at it—a retro flight attendant costume with a bright blue skirt and little hat.

She tilted her head. "Eh... I'll try it on."

The next day at the firehouse, the Halloween spirit was in full swing. A candy station had been set up at a table near the entrance—festive buckets full of sweets sat beside a stack of pamphlets and a pile of smoke detectors.

Buck stood next to it, shifting his weight as he eyed the setup.

"The teal bucket is for kids with food allergies," Bobby explained, walking up beside him. "Everything in there is nut-free, dairy-free, egg-free, soy-free, and gluten-free."

Buck held up a small, round smoke detector from the table and raised an eyebrow. "And who are these for? Kids allergic to fun?"

"They're for the parents," Bobby replied dryly. "Also, there should be some pamphlets about basic fire safety in the closet. Make sure they're out too."

Buck sighed. "Exactly how long are you gonna keep on punishing me?"

Bobby gave him a look. "You know, Buck, someday you're gonna figure out when to stop pushing and learn some patience. I hope we're both alive to see it." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked off.

Buck exhaled and turned to the table, staring at the candy buckets like they held all the answers to his problems. Nearby, Chimney was wiping down the ambulance when he noticed Buck's frustration.

He tossed the rag over his shoulder and wandered over. "You know, being stuck here isn't actually the end of the world," Chimney said casually. "It just feels like it. Trust me, I know."

Buck gave a small chuckle. "No, I do," Chimney replied, smirking. "My first few months I was here, only time I saw daylight was on my way in, and on my way out."

"How'd, you cope with it?" Buck Asked

"I cleaned every inch of this place. Learned where everything was, how all the equipment worked. Set a new record getting into my turnout gear."
And then eventually someone took pity on me, and they let me outside." Chimney Said

"So basically...um, suck it up and be patient." Buck gave a wry smile. "Just like Bobby said."

"Exactly," Chim said. He tapped the smoke detectors with a knuckle. "Though he is wrong about these. Nobody's gonna want them tonight."

"No, but I'm handing them out anyway. Captain's orders." Buck Said, as he did a mock salute.

"See?" Chimney said with a grin. "It can be taught."

"I'm gonna go find those pamphlets," Buck muttered exaggerated, and started toward the back.

Before he could get far, Chimney called out, a little more serious, "Hey—have you talked to Maddie today?"

Buck stopped. "No, I think she's working. Why?"

Chimney shook his head. "Nothing. Just wondering."

Buck nodded slowly and walked off. Chimney turned back toward the truck—only to hear a loud caw. He looked up to see a lone crow perched on top of the ambulance, wings spread slightly.

"Okay," Chimney muttered, staring up at it. "Are you a good omen or a bad omen? 'Cause, you know, I Googled you, and the old wives are kind of divided on this question."

The crow cawed again, more insistent this time, flapping its wings before taking off. Chimney looked around for confirmation.

"Is anybody else seeing this?" he asked aloud.

"Seeing what?" Eddie's voice came from behind as he grabbed a pack of sour patch kids from the candy display.

Chimney turned to him, then looked back. The crow was gone. "Never mind."

Eddie opened the candy, his eyes flicking briefly in the direction Buck had walked. Violet crept up beside him, suddenly, nearly making him drop the candy.

"Boo!" Violet Said

"Jesus Vi, I could've hit you." Eddie Said

"Sure you could, but you know you miss him," she said, teasingly.

Eddie blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Violet Said, nodding towards Buck.

"I never said that." Eddie Said, shaking his head.

"No," Violet smirked. "But your eyes are saying it loud and clear. Come on, Eddie, how long are you going to keep up this act with Buck?"

"For however long I want to," Eddie muttered, walking away.

Violet followed, arms crossed. "Okay, now that's just petty. So the guy sued the city, the department, and Cap—but he came to his senses. He knows he messed up. You think he doesn't regret it? He just wanted to come back."

Eddie stopped, jaw tight. "Violet-"

"Just talk to him," she said gently. "You know he's kinda your best friend. And I bet Chris misses him, too just as much as you."

Eddie glanced over his shoulder as Buck was walking through with a box of pamphlets, quietly focused on his task. Violet gave Eddie's arm a light pat before walking off, leaving him standing there, uncertain, watching his friend from afar.

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Back at the firehouse, laughter of trick or treaters filled the air as Buck sat behind the candy table, handing out sweets to a kid in a classic black-and-white striped prisoner outfit.

"That's it, get your candy," Buck said with a grin as the boy eagerly reached into the bucket.

The kid tried to scoop out more, but Buck gently blocked him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Sorry, buddy, two-piece limit. Those are the rules."

"That's a stupid rule," the kid muttered, frowning.

Buck smirked. "Yeah, not the world's greatest defense strategy."

The boy squinted at him. "What are you supposed to be, anyway?"

"I'm a firefighter," Buck replied.

The kid tilted his head skeptically. "So how come you're not out fighting fires?"

Before Buck could come up with a snappy response, a loud truck horn sounded. The engine bay doors began to open, and the team returned from a call, stepping out in full turnout gear. Bobby led the way, giving a wave and a warm smile to the kids.

"Mom, look, the real firefighters are here!" the boy said excitedly, pointing at the crew.

Buck blinked, trying not to take it personally.

The boy's mom hurried over. "Oh my gosh. Is he trying to get more candy out of you?"

"Uh, no, no, he's fine," Buck said, putting on a polite smile. "In fact, here why don't you take a smoke detector. Keep him safe until his parole hearing."

She chuckled, accepted it with a nod, and walked off with her son.

"Nice work, Buckley. Keep it up," Bobby said as he passed, giving Buck a brief nod of approval before heading inside with the rest of the team.

Buck straightened up a bit, a little pride seeping in despite the earlier burn.

Moments later, Violet and Becca strolled over to the table, each grabbing a piece of candy.

"Well, look at you," Becca said, surveying the table. "Making progress. You've even got a few smoke detectors off the table. Not bad."

Violet glanced around at the untouched stack. "Still... Chim was right. Nobody wants these things. You could've offered gold coins, and they'd still walk past."

She laughed and walked off. Becca lingered a moment longer.

"I'll catch up with you," she said, nodding toward Violet.

"Yeah," Buck said, still distracted, offering her a smile as she walked away.

As Buck turned to reorganize the buckets, Eddie walked by, heading toward the back with his usual calm, guarded presence.

Buck cleared his throat. "Oh, Eddie, um—" he paused, then gestured toward the table, "you wanna give me a hand with all this?"

Eddie didn't break stride. "Nah, you got this. You're 100%. Lawsuit proved that, right?"

The words hit harder than Buck expected, and his smile faltered as Eddie disappeared inside. Buck stood there, motionless then he slowly turned back to the table and reached for another smoke detector, trying to keep his hands busy—trying not to let the sting show.

A few minutes later a few trick-or-treaters lingered near the games set up out front, laughing with friends and parents.
R
Inside the locker room, Becca was zipping up her duffel bag, ready to call it a day. Her shift was over, and she had plans—important ones. She slung the bag over her shoulder and turned the corner, nearly bumping into Buck.

"Leaving so soon?" he asked with a slight grin.

"Yeah," she said, breathlessly. "Justin and I are taking the kids trick-or-treating with Rosie this year. It's going to be... interesting. But fun."

Buck tilted his head. "So what's the costume this year? Sexy cop? Catwoman? Or better—Harley Quinn?"

Becca laughed. "I'm keeping it PG this year. I'm going as Tinkerbell."

He raised his brows. "Now that's actually adorable."

"Thanks," she replied, adjusting her bag strap. "So, how's your second day going?"

"Honestly? Could be worse," Buck admitted with a shrug. "But so far, so good. It's just..."

"You wish things could be better with Bobby and Eddie," Becca finished for him, her tone softening.

"Yeah," Buck sighed. "I mean, I wasn't expecting them to instantly forgive me, but it sucks knowing they're still mad."

"Well... that happens when you get lawyers involved," she said with a look. Buck gave her a sheepish glance. "Hey," she added, nudging his arm. "Things are going to be okay. Bobby and Eddie will come around. They've put up with you for this long."

Buck smirked. "Question—how do you put up with me?"

Becca rolled her eyes playfully. "I don't know. I ask myself that every day. But then I think... if everyone else can, I might as well try."

Her words made him smile—genuine and warm. He stepped a little closer.

"So," he said, "since my shift is almost over... and I've survived the first two days... does that mean I'm in the clear?"

She looked at him, smiling. "Well, from the progress I've seen, and the effort you've put in to prove how much you care..."

"And?" he teased, leaning in slightly.

"Yes, Evan," she said. "You've earned yourself a date with me."

A victorious grin lit up Buck's face. "Yes! Be ready, Becks, because I've got something great planned for Saturday night."

"Mmm," Becca said, clearly intrigued. "Looking forward to it."

"Cool, I'll let you get home," Buck added. "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks." She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, her fingers brushing his face. "Goodnight, Buck."

He watched her walk off, a dazed smile still playing on his lips as she tossed him a wink before disappearing out the fire house.

Upstairs in the lounge area, the evening had settled into a tired hum. The large TV in the living area played the local news, flashing images of the call the 118 had just returned from—the haunting story of parents who had kept their children locked away in a basement. Hen sat on the couch, her eyes fixed on the screen, a troubled look on her face.

Bobby walked over and stood beside her for a moment before lowering himself onto the coffee table, facing her.

"You know," Hen said after a long moment, her voice low, "Karen and I joke about locking Denny up. For his protection. But the truth is... protecting him like that wouldn't be for him. It'd be for us. We'd be robbing him, just to give ourselves some peace of mind."

Bobby tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady. "That's not very subtle."

Hen let out a dry chuckle. "It's really late, and I'm really tired."

Bobby studied her for a moment. "You think I'm being too hard on him?"

Hen glanced at him, thoughtful. "I think Buck makes everything hard on Buck. The boy has two settings—zero, and 'shut up before I smack you.'"

A small, reluctant smile touched Bobby's lips before it faded. "I can see that he's trying. It just... still feels like he doesn't get it. Like this is all a game to him."

Hen turned fully toward him, her voice firmer now. "Cap, the city offered him a huge settlement. He could be jumping out of planes or swimming with sharks if he was looking for a game. But he made his choice. He chose this job."

"So I should let him do it?" Bobby asked quietly.

"Or let him go somewhere else that will," Hen said, her words heavy with meaning.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Buck was busy tidying up the remnants of the Halloween festivities. He carried a box of leftover decorations across the apparatus bay, careful not to drop anything. As he rounded the corner, he nearly bumped into Eddie. The two of them exchanged a quick, stiff glance, walking past each other without a word.

Buck stopped, set the box down with a soft thud, and turned back toward him.

"So that's how it's gonna be now?" Buck said, his voice tight. "You're just gonna keep on ghosting me? 'Cause Halloween's over, just so you know."

Eddie paused, back stiff. "I don't know what you want from me, Buck. Forgive, forget, make you feel better about what you did?"

"I just want you to talk to me," Buck said, taking a few steps closer. "Even if it's just to say you're still mad."

Eddie turned to face him fully now, his expression strained. "I'm not mad, I'm—" he stopped, searching for the right words. "When you decided to sue the department, to make Cap the bad guy... did you ever stop for a minute to think what that could do to us?"

Buck's heart sank. "Look, I just needed my job back. I missed—" he shook his head, frustrated, "I missed being here. Being part of the team. I never meant for anyone to get hurt."

Eddie crossed his arms, his voice harsher now. "Lotta 'I's in there, Buck. Your actions, your choices, they impact the rest of us. That's what it means to be part of a team."

Buck swallowed, shame creeping up his spine. "You're right... I didn't think about what could happen. I was mad at Bobby for not letting me back. I was mad at you guys for moving on without me. I was mad that there was nothing I could do about it. And I just... I just wanted to—"

"Punch someone?" Eddie offered, a trace of amusement flashing in his eyes.

"Yeah," Buck admitted with a laugh, soft and self-deprecating. "A little. But I get it. And I really am sorry. Whatever it takes for you to forgive me—"

"I forgive you," Eddie said, cutting him off. "Also what it means to be part of a team. This... just don't do it again."

Buck's face lit up with relief. Without thinking, they moved toward each other and shared a quick dap-up and an even quicker hug. Eddie groaned a bit—more out of habit than resistance—and they pulled apart, just as Bobby came walking over.

"Buckley," Bobby said, his voice carrying the usual note of authority.

Buck straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Candy detail's all wrapped up, Cap. And I gave away all the smoke detectors."

Bobby gave a small nod. "Listen, Buck, I've been thinking. Why don't you go home?"

"Home? I still have a couple hours left on my shift," Buck said, confused.

"I don't wanna overtax you your first week back," Bobby said with a small smile.

"I stood behind a table and got bullied by children," Buck argued.

"Exactly why you earned a few hours off," Bobby said, clapping a firm, approving hand on Buck's shoulder. "Good work today."

Buck stood there for a second, a real smile breaking across his face as Bobby walked away.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The next morning, Becca came rushing through the sliding glass doors of Mercy General Hospital, her heart pounding harder with each step. She had gotten the text from Bobby not long ago—Buck was in the hospital. That alone was enough to send her into a tailspin of worry. She spotted the nurse's desk and hurried over.

"Excuse me," she said, slightly breathless. "I'm looking for a patient brought in. His name is Evan Buckley?"

Before the nurse could respond, a familiar voice called out behind her.

"Becca, hey, over here," Buck said.

She turned, immediately spotting Buck standing in the waiting area beside Bobby. Relief flooded her features as she quickly made her way over. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Hey," she murmured, pulling back just enough to look him over. "Bobby said you were injured—that you cut yourself. Are you okay?"

Buck gave her a reassuring smile, though he winced a little at the movement. "Yeah, just got some shallow cuts from broken windshield glass. Nothing major."

Becca wasn't convinced yet. She frowned slightly. "Did you tell them you're on blood thinners?"

"Yeah," Buck nodded. "I told the paramedics I was on blood thinners, right away. And they sealed the wounds."

She relaxed a little at that, but her eyes still searched his face for any signs of pain. "Okay... but they still brought you here? To the ER?"

"Right, no, they just thought it was better to get checked out," Buck explained. "I just finished giving the police my statement."

Becca's, concern still etched across her face. "But what happened?"

Buck leaned back a bit, letting out a long breath. "It was crazy. This lady hit this guy two days ago. Apparently, she must've hit her head pretty bad—turns out they found a brain bleed."

Becca's eyebrows lifted. "That would explain why she was so confused."

"And what about the guy on the windshield?" Bobby asked

"In surgery," Buck answered. "The doctors said he's got a fair chance."

Bobby leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. "That's because you jumped in there and saved him. Probably didn't even occur to you to worry about yourself."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't think, just rushed in like I always do." Buck Said

"Yeah," Becca said quietly, exchanging a look with Bobby, both of them fully aware this was just Buck's nature—rushing in, heart first.

Buck stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers slightly, "I guess it's like the uniform is my costume. I put it on and suddenly I'm brave,
and I'm strong... I make a difference. Feels like without it, I'm not much of anything."

Bobby leaned forward, his voice steady and full of something close to pride. "Buck, you saved two lives without the uniform. It's not a costume. It's who you are."

Buck's eyes lifted, hopeful. "Does this mean you're ready to let me back? For real?"

Bobby smiled warmly. "Doesn't matter if I'm ready. You are. It's time for me to get out of your way."

As Bobby started to walk, Buck called after him, a sudden thought lighting his face.

"Hey, Bobby," he said, standing too. "Are you hungry? Maybe I could buy you and Becca breakfast?"

Becca smiled warmly, glancing at Bobby. "Yeah, plus it'd be nice for you two to catch up."

"Yeah, it would." Bobby Said, and together, the three of them left the hospital.