First responder, second love

Chapter 18 (Buck)

The last few weeks have been great, well the parts with Sammy in it anyway. She is pretty amazing, and makes me forget about my problems for a while. When I'm with her, it's hard to think about anything else, and I get lots in her eyes, on her lips, and against her chest. She makes me believe that there is more than what I had, more than just enough. There was a moment when I was afraid, I wouldn't get a chance to tell her how I felt, a moment where I thought we would never get a chance to try. When I was surrounded by water, trying to keep Christopher close, I was also trying to make my way to Sammy. Some part of me knew that there was more between us, more than just a friendship. But I was too afraid to ask her, too scared to ruin what we already had. But when I saw her at that hospital, after I found Christopher again, I saw that something was changing. The way Sammy looked at me was different. And when she kissed my lips, I knew that our friendship was over.

It's Friday night, and I'm walking up to my apartment. I started working again this week, but not as a firefighter, unfortunately. They gave me the job of fire marshal, and I'm really hating it. Sammy thought that it was a good way to feel useful again, but it doesn't feel like that. I really wish I could tell her that she was right, and that I'm starting to feel better, but I can't lie to her. Nothing will change until I can go back to being a firefighter. And I know I shouldn't feel like that, like I'm nothing if I can't be a firefighter, if I can't save lives. Whatever Sammy says, whatever she does, my thoughts won't change. I have been searching for a meaning in my life for a long time. I traveled a lot to find my purpose, to find a way to feel useful. And if I'm being honest, I was in need of some self-worth as well.

When I was younger, I always felt like I wasn't good enough, like I wasn't wanted, not really. My parents never made me feel loved like a parent should. I always thought that it was my fault, I was probably doing something wrong. But did I really? Was I a difficult kid back then? My sister was the one who took care of me, who got me bandages when I crashed with my bike again, she was the one who made me feel loved. But Maddie was a bit older than me. So, when she started dating Doug (an awful human being), she left me to life with him. And even though I wasn't proud of it, I couldn't help but being mad at her for leaving me. She left me alone with my parents, without anyone who actually cares about me. That was the moment I really lost my way, and I started acting out. I almost never went to school, and dropped out of college. My behavior made my parents more and more disappointed, but I tried not to care about that.

I eventually left home, without telling them where I was going, because I didn't even know myself. I traveled for months, trying to find my place in the world, trying to find my purpose. And after a while I found it here in LA, at the 118. You could say that I found more than a job, more than a purpose, I found a family. I found a family at the 118 who actually cares about me, and they're not even obliged to. But now it feels like I'm slowly losing my family, and I'm afraid to be left behind again.

I walk into my apartment and put my bag down on the floor. I throw my shoes off and go to the fridge for a cold beer. The whole week was awful. I've just been working, and Sammy was too busy at work to come over. She promised to stay over tonight. So, there will be something good about this week. I had a talk with a lawyer this week, about some incident that happened during a fire drill at an office building. During the talk, the man suddenly started talking about my situation. He said he knew who I was, and what happened to me. I wanted to leave, but then he said he could help me. And well, I went to his office again today, to talk about my own situation. The lawyer really thinks there is a case, and that we could win. And I don't know why, but I believe him. I somehow believe that he could be the solution, and that he could help me become a firefighter again. I haven't talked with anyone about it, not even Sammy knows. Should I?

I hear a knock on the door and I get up from the couch. I walk up to the door and Sam walks into the apartment. She puts her bag down and wraps her arms around my neck. She kisses my lips and I put my arms around her waist. We stand there, kissing each other for a few minutes, before we get something to drink and take our seats on the couch.
    "How was work?" I ask Sammy, while she's taking a sip of her beer.
    "Very busy, but it was a good day," she says. Sammy barely shares stories about her work, even though I can sometimes tell that she had a bad day. She works with kids, and she's not able to help all of her patients. There are nights when she walks into my apartment without saying a word. On those nights she just wraps her arms around me, and says that she needs me, but she doesn't want to talk. I don't know if that's healthy, but to be honest, I do the same thing. In those moments, I give her what she needs, but I let her know that she can talk with me about anything. And I really hope that she does someday.