training wheels. // evan 'buck' buckley

xlii. you hurt me

the tension in the room was thick as the arbitration hearing began. buck sat beside chase, eyes forward but avoiding the gazes of his former team across the table. his posture was rigid, a mixture of defiance and discomfort weighing him down. i sat beside hen, my jaw clenched so tightly i thought her teeth might crack. i hadn't wanted to be here, not like this, but now i had no choice.

the arbitrator cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "this is not a trial, and i’m not a judge. the arbitration is here to address mr. buckley’s claim against the los angeles fire department for wrongful termination."

bobby immediately leaned forward, his voice calm but firm. "buck was never terminated."

chase, buck’s lawyer, didn’t miss a beat. "while buck wasn’t technically fired, he’s been constructively terminated from all components of firefighting. it’s a de facto firing - a direct result of discriminatory and unequal treatment on the part of captain nash."

my fists clenched in my lap. unequal treatment? my uncle had done everything he could to protect buck.

"i don’t treat buck any differently than any other firefighter under my command," bobby said, his voice steady, though there was an edge of hurt beneath his words.

chimney jumped in, frustration leaking into his tone. "i was hit from behind with a construction truck. rebar went straight through the back of my skull, into my brain. i was back in a month." he crossed his arms, glaring at chase. "after i was stabbed defending maddie, i was back in a month."

chase gave a nod, completely unfazed. "captain nash has a pattern of allowing firefighters with serious injuries to return after less than a month. but buck? buck’s been out for much longer despite his desire to return to the field."

i shifted uncomfortably. i knew where this was going, and my anger was simmering, my nails digging into my palms. this was all wrong.

hen spoke up next, her voice sharp. "that’s not fair, chase. every patient is different, and buck’s on blood thinners. it’s dangerous for him to be on the field in that condition."

chase, with a smile that made my blood boil, slid a glossy brochure across the table toward hen. "blood thinners. you sold these, right, hen? when you were a pharmaceutical rep. you told patients they could return to their normal lives. does that not include returning to work?"

i couldn’t stay silent any longer. "this isn’t the same thing, and you know it," i snapped, glaring at chase. "you don’t get to pick and choose bits of people’s lives to use against them. blood thinners are a risk for a firefighter."

chase looked at me, eyebrows raised, but ignored my comment, his focus shifting to eddie. "let’s talk about returning to work. eddie, you went back to the field immediately after your wife’s death, didn’t you?"

my heart slammed in my chest. i shot up, nearly knocking my chair back. "don’t you dare bring up shannon," i spat, my voice trembling with anger. eddie had been through enough. "that has nothing to do with buck’s case. you’re disgusting for even mentioning her."

the room went deathly quiet as eddie’s jaw tightened, his eyes dark with grief and anger. chase looked mildly surprised but didn’t back down. "it’s relevant. eddie returned to work immediately, despite his personal trauma. shouldn’t buck have the same choice?"

"this is about physical readiness, not emotional trauma!" i continued, my voice cracking under the weight of my fury. "and even then, that was eddie’s decision, not buck’s. you have no right to drag shannon into this."

eddie, visibly holding himself together, spoke, his voice low and steady despite the tension radiating off him. "that was my business," he said. "but you’re making it your business now."