training wheels. // evan 'buck' buckley

xl. all you can do

buck sat across from the lawyer, the sleek mahogany desk between them polished to a near mirror finish. papers were spread out in front of him, meticulously organized, but all buck could focus on was the sense of being trapped, hemmed in by the words the lawyer was carefully crafting. the lawyer leaned forward slightly, his gaze calculating and unyielding.

"you have to see this from a broader perspective, mr. buckley," the lawyer said, his voice smooth yet persuasive. "station 118 isn’t exempt from accountability. there’s a class action suit against the city. forty-two people were injured during that drill. forty-two. and we’re talking about negligence here. serious negligence."

buck clenched his fists under the table, resisting the urge to push back harder than he already had. he stared at the lawyer, his jaw tight. "the drill was meant to test us. accidents happen."

the lawyer raised an eyebrow, undeterred. "accidents happen, sure. but when you have forty-two injured civilians, that’s not an accident. that’s a systemic failure. and you know better than anyone, buck - you’ve lived through it. you were injured in that accident. you’ve been trying to get back on the team ever since, right? they’re sidelining you, keeping you out of action. doesn’t that bother you? don’t you feel like they owe you some kind of justice?"

buck’s throat tightened at the reminder of his injury. his leg still ached sometimes, even though he tried not to let anyone know. he hated the idea of being seen as weak or incapable, especially by Station 118. but that didn’t mean he’d turn on his team.

"they’re just trying to protect the department," buck said, his voice steadier than he felt. "they’re doing what they think is best. i can take care of myself."

the lawyer leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as if studying buck for any sign of hesitation, of doubt. "that’s noble of you, but this isn’t just about you, buck. this is about the city’s responsibility. it’s about making sure nothing like this happens again. think about it - a settlement could mean real change. better resources, better training. It could prevent future accidents."

buck pushed back his chair abruptly, standing up and grabbing his jacket. "i’m not doing this. i’m not going to be part of some smear campaign against people who have had my back since day one."

the lawyer’s smile faded, his tone shifting to something cooler, more detached. "this isn’t about smearing anyone. this is about accountability."

buck was already halfway to the door. he paused, turning back to face the lawyer. his voice was firm, almost defiant. "the city’s not a corporation. the employees, the firefighters you want me to go after, they’re heroes. they’re family. and there’s nothing stronger than family."

with that, buck left the office, his frustration building with every step. he hated the idea that anyone could view the people he worked with - the people he loved - as just another cog in the system. no, they were more than that. and he wasn’t going to let some lawyer twist that for a paycheck.

later that evening, the smell of garlic and rosemary filled bobby and athena’s kitchen as they prepared dinner. bobby stirred a pot on the stove while athena chopped vegetables with precision. there was a sense of routine, of shared comfort between them, as they moved around the kitchen. despite the warmth of the setting, athena noticed the tension in bobby’s shoulders.

"you think he’s really going to show up?" A
athena asked, glancing over at her husband.

bobby sighed, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "he said he would. but you know how he is when things get heated."

"yeah," athena murmured, her voice softening. "i do."

the door creaked open, and buck stepped in with a heavy sigh, followed by me, who gave athena a quick hug. buck looked like he had just been through a war - not physically, but emotionally. he was tense, his brow furrowed as if he was still battling the conversation with the lawyer in his mind.