Chapter Text
The email came in just after 6 a.m.
Subject line: CAPTAIN ROBERT NASH — ACTIVE / RETURNING OFFICIAL
No message body. No warning. Just that.
Buck stared at it on his phone, standing in the bedroom in socks and a shirt that didn’t quite sit right on his chest.
He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed. “He’s coming back,” he said out loud.
From the kitchen, Eddie called, “What?”
Buck stood, walked down the hall, and handed him the phone.
Eddie blinked down at the screen. “Is this real?”
“It’s from department HR,” Buck said. “It’s real.”
He leaned on the counter. Eddie poured him tea instead of coffee, wordless.
“Do we tell the others?” Buck asked finally.
Eddie nodded. “Yeah. We have to.”
The 118 wasn’t ready.
Hen’s hands were already shaking when she opened the group chat.
Hen: “This isn’t a joke?”
Buck: “No. It’s real.”
Chim: “Did we miss a step? Like... a resurrection email protocol?”
Ravi: “I don’t understand. How?”
Buck: “We’ll find out together. He’s coming in today.”
When Bobby walked in, it was like the air changed.
No uniform. Just jeans, boots, and a navy-blue shirt that had hung too long in the back of someone’s closet.
Hen was the first to move. She crossed the room and hugged him like it was instinct, like grief never happened.
“You’re real,” she whispered.
Bobby squeezed back. “I missed you too.”
Chim followed, smiling through something brittle. “We thought we lost you, man.”
“You did,” Bobby said quietly. “I just... came back slower.”
Ravi held back until Bobby stepped toward him, offered his hand. Ravi took it. His grip didn’t falter.
Buck stood off to the side. Watching.
Bobby met his eyes. Just nodded.
Buck swallowed hard and nodded back.
The locker room hadn’t changed.
His name was still on the door. The gear still folded. A sealed envelope taped inside the locker door — yellowed, half-forgotten. Bobby didn’t reach for it.
Buck stepped in behind him.
“We didn’t know what to do,” Buck said softly. “So we didn’t touch anything.”
Bobby ran a hand over the edge of the locker door. “Thank you. All of you.”
“You’re allowed to take time,” Buck said.
“I’ve had too much of that,” Bobby murmured. “I want to be here.”
Later that afternoon, Eddie clicked send on his leave of absence form.
He didn’t hesitate.
It felt strange — not like quitting, but like pausing a movie you already knew the ending to. He sat at the table, staring at the screen, feeling the space in his chest stretch open.
Buck walked in from the kitchen. “You did it?”
“Yeah.”
Buck crossed the room and sat beside him. “You okay?”
Eddie exhaled. “Not yet. But I think this is what okay might look like, eventually.”
That night, after dinner, they sat down with Christopher on the couch.
“Okay, serious faces,” Buck said, handing Chris a bowl of popcorn anyway.
Chris gave him a look. “You’re not breaking up, right? Because that’d be pretty dumb.”
Eddie snorted. “No, mijo. We’re not breaking up.”
“Then what?”
Eddie looked at Buck, then turned to his son. “I’m taking time off from the firehouse.”
Chris frowned. “Why? You love it.”
“I do,” Eddie said. “But I’ve been holding my breath for a long time. Since the army, since your mom, since everything. I need to find out who I am when I’m not surviving.”
Chris was quiet. Then he asked, “Are you sick?”
“No,” Eddie said quickly. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m not sick. I’m just... tired. And I want to feel something better than tired.”
Chris nodded. “Okay.”
Buck blinked. “That’s it? Just okay?”
Chris shrugged. “You’re my dad. You’ve always been trying to protect me. Maybe it’s time you protect yourself, too.”
Eddie stared at him, blinking back something too full to say.
Buck cleared his throat. “Pretty wise for a teenager.”
Chris smirked. “I live with you two. I have no choice.”
The next day, Eddie stopped by the firehouse. He didn’t go in. Just sat on the back steps, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing.
Bobby found him there.
“Not how I imagined our first conversation,” Bobby said.
“Yeah,” Eddie murmured. “Same.”
They sat in silence.
Then Bobby said, “It’s harder than I thought, coming back.”
“I know,” Eddie said.
“You’re not in uniform.”
“I took a leave.”
Bobby looked at him. “That surprises me.”
“It shouldn’t,” Eddie said. “I’ve been pushing through since I was eighteen. I’ve seen too much. Lost too much. I just... I want to know who I am when I’m not waiting for the next thing to break.”
Bobby nodded. “That’s fair.”
“I’m not done,” Eddie added. “I just want to stop long enough to hear myself think.”
“You deserve that,” Bobby said. “More than most.”
That night, Eddie found a note stuck to the fridge in Chris’s handwriting.
Blue marker, all caps:
GLAD YOU’RE CHOOSING YOU.
Eddie leaned his head against the door and stayed there until his breath evened out.
At the firehouse, Bobby sat on the bench beside his locker. The hum of night quieted around him.
Buck leaned in the doorway.
“You okay?” he asked.
Bobby looked up. “No,” he said. “But I’m learning to be.”