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Buck’s fingers drummed against the table absentmindedly, surrounded by the familiar chaos of Station 118. Phones ringing, boots clanging, someone arguing about who had the worst call yesterday. He barely noticed when his phone buzzed, displaying No Caller ID.
“Hello?” Buck answered wearily. Cautious of this unknown caller.
“Evan.”
“…Who is this?” Buck asked, frowning.
A slow, amused drawl came through. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your father-in-law.”
Buck froze. Father-in-law? He looked around, bewildered as if the man speaking was going to appear at any given moment. “…Ash?”
“Bingo,” the voice said, smooth, satisfied. “I always wondered if you’d manage to forget me entirely.”
“How did you get this number? Why are you calling me?” Buck spat out, his voice sharp, every word dripping with anger. Memories of that man—Ash—were nothing but bad, and now he was here, uninvited, bringing whatever this was straight into Buck’s world.
There was a pause—long enough to make Buck’s stomach twist. Then Ash’s voice came, deliberate, slow, almost cruel.
“Haven’t you heard?” Buck could hear the smirk in the man’s tone. “Clay’s dead.”
The words hit Buck like a punch to the chest. His knees buckled slightly, and he gripped the edge of the table for support before realizing he was already standing in the corner of the station. “…What? No. What kind of sick game are you playing —”
“He’s gone, Evan,” Ash said, slow and deliberate, letting the weight of the words settle. “And I thought you should hear it from me. Someone… reliable.”
Buck’s panic twisted into fury ignoring the comment about Ash being reliable, if he could think properly he would’ve scoffed at fhe idea. “…Wait. How do you know this?” His voice was sharp, incredulous, shaking with rage. “I’m his emergency contact!There’s no way you should even know—how do you even know this?!”
Ash let out a faint, satisfied chuckle. “Some truths have a way of finding you, Evan.“
Buck’s fists tightened around the phone. His mind raced, trying to process the impossible: Clay… Clay is dead? And Ash—Ash was enjoying every second of listening to him unravel.
“Oh and You’re being recalled,” Ash continued, his voice calm but cruel, savoring the control. “Immediately. Consider it… an opportunity to set things in motion. Or at least to try, I’m sure you’ll get the call shortly.”
Buck staggered back, gripping the phone like a lifeline, his chest heaving. His vision blurred with anger, fear, and disbelief. Clay’s gone—or so Ash said—and Buck had no idea what to do next.
Then the line went dead.
Buck stood there for a long moment, gripping the phone, his mind racing. How could Ash possibly know all this? Every scenario he could think of felt impossible.
“Yo, Buckley! Was that Maddie?” Chim called across the table, breaking through his thoughts.
Buck hesitated, words tumbling out in a mix of panic and disbelief. “I-I-I… it was…”
“Are you okay?” Hen asked, noticing the panic creeping into his voice.
Unsure what to say, Buck froze. Before he could gather himself, his phone buzzed again.
He answered on instinct.
“Evan Buckley?” a formal voice said. “This is Lieutenant Harper, U.S. Navy. You’re being recalled. Effective immediately.”
Buck’s heart sank. The nightmare was real.
Fuck—” he muttered under his breath, voice low, trembling.
And then it just snapped. “FUCK!” he screamed, the sound cutting through the chaos of the firehouse, echoing off the walls.
Every head turned. Questions, shock, and confusion filled the room.
Buck stood there, chest heaving, hands shaking. He had no idea what to do. No plan. No answers. His rage and panic boiled over, and he hurled the phone across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp crack, bouncing to the floor.
The firehouse was silent now, everyone staring at him, realizing something serious had just happened. Buck’s vision blurred with fear and disbelief. Clay… Clay was gone—or at least that’s what Ash had said— and he was going back to the one place he never wanted to see again.
firehouse was buzzing now, questions flying. “Buck—what the hell was that? Who was on the phone?” Chim asked, eyes wide.
Hen and Ravi were circling, worry written across their faces. “Are you okay?” Hen pressed, cautious but insistent.
Buck’s hands shook as he picked up the broken phone from the floor. He stared at it for a long beat, trying to force himself to breathe, to think, to get it together. He couldn’t tell them. Not about Clay. Not about Ash. Not about the life he’d left behind when he walked away from the Navy.
He swallowed hard, forcing his voice steady. “It… it’s nothing. Just some… personal stuff I need to handle,” he said, low and clipped. “I’m fine.”
Eddie frowned. “Buck… you’re not fine. You just screamed your head off and threw your phone across the room.”
Buck ran a hand through his hair, glaring at the floor. “I said I’m fine,” he snapped, sharper than he intended. Then immediately softened, realizing how many pairs of eyes were on him. “Really. Just… give me a minute.”
But inside, his mind was racing. Virginia Beach. The recall. Clay—who was supposed to be gone. Every instinct told him to run, to figure out the impossible situation before anyone else found out. And yet here he was, surrounded by friends who didn’t know the half of it, expected to act normal.
He dropped onto a chair, shoulders heavy. Get it together, Buck. You can’t fall apart here. Not in front of them. Not now.
And with that thought, he forced himself to breathe, to focus, to plan. Because in a few hours, maybe less, he’d be on a plane heading back to a life he thought he’d left behind—and back into the nightmare Ash had just pulled him into.
He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to straighten up. “I… I need to make a call,” he said, his voice low and clipped. Without waiting for another word, he stood abruptly and walked toward the door, out of sight.
Once alone, he leaned against the wall, gripping his now cracked phone tightly. His chest heaved. Clay… Clay’s not dead. He can’t be. He can’t…
His mind raced through every memory, every call, every emergency—they couldn’t have taken Clay like that. Not like this.
Buck pressed the phone to his chest, closing his eyes for a long, shaky moment. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how to stop what was coming. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to believe it. Not yet.
Clay’s not dead. He can’t be.