Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Buck parked his car in front of his building and turned off the engine. Only then did he attempt to relax his body. But his body despised him. Every muscle in his body pressed against his skin as if it were the only thing keeping him together. And it was correct. He wanted to cry, to tear down the barriers he had erected inside his mind, and let it all out, to cry until he couldn't any longer. It was what his body required and what he desired. But he understood he couldn't. He couldn't let his emotions completely control his body because he'd never be able to control them again. He needed to be strong, both for himself and for those who still cared about him.

He needed to keep his emotions under lock and key. It was the only way he could survive. It was also the reason he had lived this long. He had become an expert at storing his pain for later, but when that day would come was anyone's guess. Even after relocating to Los Angeles, he told himself that enough was enough and that this time he would face his pain head-on. He refused to add to the weight he was already carrying. He needed to be better. But he'd failed at it. Instead, he simply added to the pile. And now he was paying the price. He'd had enough of it. He couldn't go on like this.

After he’d dropped the lawsuit, he had hoped that everything would go back to normal. He had shown the chiefs that he was ready to go back, and that was his goal. But it hadn't, and to be honest with himself, he wished he had just taken the money now. Everyone hated him. He was now the station’s new scapegoat and their verbal punching bag. The place he thought of as his new home with his new family was now the reason for his pain. It didn't matter what he did to try and apologize to them—take all the extra shifts that no one wanted to do, do the tasks that everyone hated, cook and clean—it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t forgive him.

What made it even worse was that he was trapped in the station; Bobby, even though he was cleared for full duties, refused to take him off light duties. So that meant he was made responsible for everyone else's responsibilities around the station. All the chores were now his. It wasn’t like he had something else to do, but as time went on, he felt more like a cleaner than a firefighter. Some at the station had even made it their personal mission to do everything possible to make his life a living hell. They'd spill their drinks or leave leftover food on the floor because they didn't want him to clean it up, leave spare equipment out, throw trash at the bin rather than in it, and then make him clean it up. They even made fun of him for messing up his cleaning in front of everyone; it wasn’t like anyone would stand up for him. He had no friends left. And so, he was on his own.

After the first four weeks of this, he gave up apologising to them. By now, he knew that no matter what he did, he was never going to get them to forgive him. He had never intended to hurt them when he started the lawsuit. But at the same time, what else could he have done? He loved being a firefighter, and he was always told that if he loved something, he had to fight for it.

He knew that when he started the lawsuit, there was a possibility that things that they had done would come out. Bobby had let a lot of things slide that the others had done over the years, and he had done a lot as well, but they were all public knowledge, and unless someone looked at the personal file, no one would know that they went without punishment. But Mr Mackey had brought it all to light to the Chiefs. Everything that Bobby had tried to keep buried was brought up once again, which only made the whole situation worse. It proved his point, but in turn, he had lost the people he had been fighting for. They took Mr. Mackey's bringing up the past as him telling him everything. He had tried to tell them that he hadn’t told him anything, but it didn’t matter. He had to be the one who betrayed them since he was suing them.

It shocked him that the people he once saw as family now acted like he was a stranger to them. He had done some stupid things in the past, but they had always forgiven him; this time, they had turned their backs on him, acting like he didn’t exist.

People abandoning him was starting to become a recurring theme in his life. Everyone he cared about always found a way to leave. Perhaps it was his fault, maybe he drove them away, but right now it doesn’t matter. It had happened again, and he just had to find a way to move on. He couldn’t change the past.

He needed to leave and maybe never return. It was a running theme in his life; after his previous life imploded, he felt the need to leave. To travel. And that was what he had done. He had travelled as much as possible, moving from state to state and never staying in one place for too long. This was the reason why he ended up in LA; he had just seen the road sign for Los Angeles and thought, why not?

At first, he just saw LA as another big vacation—somewhere that he would stay for a few months before leaving. But everything changed when he got his first taste of working a rescue. He had just left a shop when he witnessed a car slam into two parked cars on the opposite side of the road. It was an elderly gentleman who had lost control after a dizzy spell. He later discovered that the man was a type 1 diabetic. Fortunately, the man was not seriously injured, with only a few cuts to his head and arms where the window had smashed and some bruising from his seatbelt. His car, on the other hand, had been a total loss. The driver's side door was crushed and wouldn't budge, but that didn't stop him from climbing through the back window and sitting behind the man to examine him. He had some first aid training—not enough to be considered a medic, but close. He knew that climbing into a crashed car wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't just sit back and watch the old man panic. So, he just sat with him and talked about whatever he wanted to—his wife, his old job, everything. And he continued to talk to him as the firefighters worked around them.

As the paramedics set off with the old man in the back of the ambulance, the fire captain came over to thank him for his assistance. He had wanted to leave, but since he witnessed the whole thing, he needed to give a statement. The one thing that the captain had said to him that stuck in his head was that he asked him if he had ever thought of joining the fire service.

It was that question that had made him really think about settling in LA for a while. He could only travel like this for so long before he needed to figure out what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He knew that he wanted to help people, and the LAFD did that. It only took him one night to figure out that being a firefighter was what he wanted to do. And the next day, he went to the LAFD and filled out the application. In that moment, he knew that he had done the right thing. After training, he was sent straight to Firehouse 118, and he thought that for the first time in a long time, he had found somewhere he belonged.

However, he repeatedly warned himself when he first started not to become too attached to his new team, but no matter what he did, it happened. He had seen his previous team as his family, and when he lost them, it had broken him. So, this time, he promised himself that he wouldn’t face that pain again. He was only there to do a job and go home. But he had broken that promise to himself. He had tried, he had to keep the interactions with the crew as strictly professional as possible, but within a few months, he saw them as more than just work friends. He saw them as family. They had slowly crept into more and more of his life until they were basically his family. However, he didn’t fight them either. He missed having a family, and if he thought hard about it, he knew that it was more than likely due to his childhood. They were also the reason he had chosen to stay in Los Angeles for so long.

Being a firefighter had saved his life. He found it extremely rewarding to be able to save and assist others. He adored not only the role he was given but also the family that came with it. He grew to enjoy his job more and more as time passed. Becoming a firefighter had provided him with the fresh start he had been seeking. Time had flown by so quickly that he was taken aback when he realised how long it had been since he had joined the 118. They had kept him grounded. He couldn't imagine doing anything else; if he could just stay with the LAFD until he retired, he'd have had a good life.

Then everything changed. He had witnessed and experienced explosions before, but nothing like this. Within seconds, his entire life had been turned upside down. He never once blamed Bobby for what happened to him after it was revealed that he had been the target of the bomber. But the whole incident had taken its toll on him. The mixture of reliving things he wished he could forget, the pain of his injury, and the fear of losing everything, nearly broke him. To him, being a firefighter meant everything. And if his injury meant he'd lose it, what was the point of living? He would be stripped of his identity.

The moment he woke up in the hospital bed, he pressured the doctors into telling him the truth, not that it was anything good to start with. All they would tell him was that he needed to prepare for the possibility that he would never be able to work as a firefighter again. He would never be able to do any active sports or activities, and he needed to look for a lower-impact life. But he refused to listen. He couldn't imagine doing anything else, and he couldn’t imagine him in an office job. It would drive him crazy. He hadn't given up hope but being told by doctor after doctor that he was no longer fit to be a firefighter had taken its toll. But then he decided that he was going to prove every single doctor wrong. He intended to fight, and he did.

He'd hit a few setbacks along the way, some more severe than others, but he hadn't let them stop him. He had attended all his doctor's appointments, and his rehab sessions (both with his friend and with the hospital physio), and had even attended all his departmental shrink appointments, which were a barrel of laughs. But he had passed them all. The surgeon had even said that his case had made his career because of how well he had been healing. Even after the pulmonary embolism, which they determined had been caused by the pins that they had used to hold his shattered bones back together as they healed, his goal hadn’t changed. Nobody, not even the doctors, had predicted this. After attending one of his appointments, his friend, who had taken over as his full-time physiotherapist, took his throwing a clot personally. Even after the doctors worked out that it had been the hardware in his leg that had caused it, he still blamed himself. Everyone had suspected at first that he was pushing too hard and trying to recover too fast. However, it turned out, it didn't matter what he did; he would have thrown a clot no matter what.

Because of the clot, doctors had to start him on blood thinners to prevent and dissolve any remaining clots. He had worried at the time that this would have set his recovery back, but the doctors had assured them that there was nothing to worry about and his return to work was still on course, he just had to take a few extra precautions. However, he didn’t believe it until the plan had been approved by the chiefs, who gave the go-ahead for his full return to active duty. They had even ordered a few extra boxes of skin glue so any wounds that he suffered could be sealed, and he had been instructed to always keep a bottle on him. And so, he relaxed a little, knowing that he was safe.

Or at least, that was what he thought. On the first shift, he was eager to get back into the swing of things, only to discover that the closest he'd ever come to fighting fires was in the station's kitchen after everyone else had gone. Despite being cleared to return, he was assigned to light duties. At first, he assumed it had something to do with the paperwork he had just received from his doctors or that the chief wanted him back on a phrase return before returning to full active service. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out who it was. And that broke him even further; it was a bitter pill to swallow when he discovered that the one man, he trusted was the reason he couldn't work. He had been cleared by his doctors, the academy, and the Chief, but it wasn't enough for him. Instead, he had deceived him. It didn't matter what he did to convince Bobby that he was good enough to return. His job was his entire life, and he thought he'd made that clear to everyone. It hurt that it had been taken from him by someone he was supposed to trust.

That pain for betrayal had been one of the driving forces behind the lawsuit; maybe, deep down, he wanted Bobby to hurt as much as he had hurt him. And he had won. He could have walked away very rich, but that hadn’t been the reason for the lawsuit. In addition to showing Bobby’s lies, it wanted to show the department that he was ready to return fully since they had proven that he was. He knew that he was going to have some issues, and he had been warned and offered a new station by the chief; however, back then he had thought that the 118 was his home, and so he wanted to return there. He now wished he had listened to the chiefs and changed stations. That was if Bobby had let him, which he doubted.

He couldn’t understand why his family hadn’t understood why he had fought to go back. Other than the job, he had no one. The childish side of his mind had thought that maybe they would forgive him after proving to everyone that he was right. But he had been so wrong. He was now just the cleaner and one that was no good to anyone, and he knew that it was destroying him day by day. He was no longer living; he was simply existing. And just existing was dangerous for a person like him.

He had done it before moving to LA; he had spent years just existing, moving from place to place, and it had been the darkest period of his life. It had almost killed him, and thinking back, he had no idea how he had survived for so long. After he had secured his place inside the LAFD, he had promised himself that he would never allow himself to fall back into that pattern. It was why he had built walls around himself to keep himself sane. But when he thought he had found a home, he stupidly allowed himself to feel again. Not completely, but enough to make him care more about himself again. He knew that even still, back then, he hadn’t been in a good place and was using anything to try and deal with his pain. Instead of drugs or alcohol, he had used sex as an outlet. He hadn’t cared who he slept with or how many one-night stands he had, because yes, he did care about those people, but not enough to go back to them. It meant nothing to him.

But as time went on, he allowed Bobby and the 118 to chip away at his walls. And by doing so, he had allowed himself to feel again. They made him feel again, and they made him feel like he would never have to face abandonment again. Not with a new family that cared so much for him that they included him in their own lives. But boy, was he mistaken. And now he was alone with his crippling pain once more.

Before he had created his walls to protect himself, when he had self-destructed in the past, he had turned to unhealthy ways to deal with his pain. But this time, he had unconsciously punished his body. He knew that he had lost weight; it wasn’t enough for people to notice without fully examining him, but it was enough for his doctors to mention it in his last evaluation. He just brushed it off as over-exercising or not eating enough of the right foods. They weren't outright lies, but they were close enough to the truth that he knew he'd be believed. He just promised the doctors that he would eat more responsibly and work on regaining that weight; that bit was an outright lie, but he had to say it. He knew it wasn't going to happen.

Thankfully, he knew that because he had explained the weight loss, it wouldn’t be put on the official report for the LAFD and Bobby to see. Because he knew that if it was, then it would be another thing to be used against him. Another point that probably helped him was that he mentioned an old friend who knew how to gain weight safely and healthily and had already started planning a regimen for him to follow. But that plan was never going to happen; he wasn’t going to hassle Sam with his problems when he was too busy saving the world. Sam hadn't been on his team, but they'd worked together more times than any other team and considered him a brother; however, after he retired, he tried to let his brother move on with his life. He didn't need his problems on top of his own. Thankfully, the doctor dropped the subject as the exam went on and never brought it up again, so he was safe for now.

He knew that there wasn’t anything physically wrong with him to explain the weight loss, it was just that he couldn’t eat without either feeling sick or throwing up any food he had eaten. Every time he tried to eat; it would cause his stomach to turn. He could tolerate small meals as well as snacks like protein bars or crisps, but that was it. He knew that eating small meals and snacks while working out was a dangerous combination, but he didn’t have much choice. Until he found a way to eat again, he had to deal with it. If he went to his doctors, they would put him back on sick leave or restrict his duties (not like they were any different from the shift he was doing now), but in the end, Bobby would find out and use it as another thing against him.

But that wasn’t an option for him; he knew mentally he wouldn’t make it through any sicker leave. It didn’t matter that he didn’t go out on calls, but still, he knew that he was at a higher risk of collapsing and losing more weight, which in turn made his job even more dangerous. The only good thing about the team hating his guts was that they didn’t notice that he was barely eating. Since he was no longer welcome at the station, he had been able to hide what little he ate. When the others were all enjoying the home-cooked meals made by Bobby, he would just get on with his chore list or eat in the locker room. He'd mostly avoided the kitchen unless he needed to clean it. Nobody cared whether he took care of himself or not. After all, he was a self-centred jerk who only cared about himself.

He also knew that he was paler than normal since his new role at the firehouse had limited his time in the sun outside, really, he only saw it when he went out to empty the bins or arriving and leaving work. To be honest, he didn’t see much sun outside of work either since he had no real reason to leave his apartment other than to go to the shops. It wasn’t like he had any friends to go and see. Aside from work, he was confined to the walls of his apartment, he knew that isolating himself was dangerous for a person like him, but he hated counting on others to deal with his problems whilst they had their own lives to live.

Thinking more clearly, he couldn’t even count going to the shops as an outing since he had started to avoid those as well. He’d only go if he had to and mainly to stock up on his protein bars and snacks since they had a long shelf life. However, he had been going a little more than first since Miss Herriot, a retired teacher who lived on the second floor had her accident. She had badly fractured her ankle and refused to go into a care home to recover after the surgery. He had only learned of the fall after returning home one day and discovering the paramedic crew struggling to get her down the stairs. He of course helped them carry her the last few steps as the lift had been out of action for a few days for maintenance. Miss Herriot had been so embarrassed about the whole thing that he had shaken his head and told her that it was his job to help. It was, after all, his old job.

After returning home, however, she had basically been trapped in her apartment. As soon as he knew she had been allowed home, he started to check on her on a regular basis to make sure that she had everything she needed. He had also started to pick up frequently shopping for her even though she had told him many times that he didn’t need to do that as she could ask her niece to do it. But he had shrugged it off telling her that he was there anyway, and it made sense him collecting the things since he lived in the same building as her.

However, the frequent checks and talks they had when he was busy putting away the shopping, he got for her hadn’t just been for her. It was for him as well. Speaking to someone who was kind to him had really stuck a nerve, he hadn’t realised that not everyone saw him as a waste of space. That he did mean something, even for a little while. That he had value still. It had been that feeling that had kept him going for this long, but it was starting to become apparent that it couldn’t last.

What had made him feel bad about spending so much time with Miss Herriot was that she had started to ask him if he was already more than normal. He knew why, he looked like crap. The few times he had caught his reflection in the mirror he knew that along with his pale skin, he had deep circles underneath his eyes. It wasn’t tiredness as such, he was just broken. He couldn't recall a single night in the previous few months when he had gotten a good night's sleep if any sleep at all. He could fall asleep as quickly as he normally could, but it had been his fear of falling to sleep that kept him up.

Every time he closed his eyes, nightmares plagued his mind. It didn't matter how long he had closed his eyes because they were always waiting for him. It was every time. It seems that all his past failures were coming back to try and kill him all over again. He was surprised that he hadn’t gone insane due to them, but he was coming close to losing it completely. Watching his brothers die repeatedly while powerless to do anything about it was killing him. However, the nightmares that cut him deeper than those were the ones when they blamed him for letting them die. Some of the deaths he was forced to see were a combination of his imagination and memories. Memories he wished he hadn't had. Friends he'd lost right in front of his eyes. And sometimes his imagination caused those deaths to become even more horrific.

When he was on shift, he started to sleep whenever the others were on a call or out of the station, so he didn’t disturb them. In fact, he had tried everything to avoid needing sleep while at work. He just didn't want them to exploit his nightmares. But since they had already stopped him from going on calls due to his medication; he knew that they would kick him out if they found out about his nightmares. He was barely hanging on to his current life; losing his job as a firefighter would be the end of him. He needed a purpose otherwise he would fall apart.

However, if sleeping at the station had been tough, he had thought that sleeping in his apartment where he could lock his front door would be easier, but he had been wrong. It was worse. He knew he needed to sleep if he was going to live, he didn't have to worry about attacking anyone or disturbing anyone else's sleep when he was safe in his apartment. Yet his nightmares never let up. He was just grateful that he had bought an apartment outright and had soundproofed the whole place; otherwise, he knew that would have received numerous visits from the LAPD due to his screams. His neighbours would have most definitely called them thinking that someone had been murdered or attacked. He was so worried that one day his neighbours would hear him that he had started to sleep as little as possible.

He’d frequently woken up with his body, clothing and bedding soaked in his sweat and sometimes blood as often he would find that he had bitten through his lip in an attempt to stop himself from screaming. And sometimes he would wake up either still trapped so tightly in his blankets that it had started to cut off the circulation of his limbs or lying on the floor like he had tried to escape his bed. But what hadn’t changed was how he woke up; he always could feel his heart rate in his throat with no control over his breathing. He knew that if he could somehow focus on his heart rate, he would find that it was unreadable. It would be through the roof. Along with his breathing being uncontrollable. Once or twice, he had panicked so much after a particularly bad nightmare that he had begun to hyperventilate so badly that he had passed out.

Thankfully that had only happened a few times before he had started to set his alarm every thirty minutes to stop himself from entering his nightmare too deeply. However, he couldn’t just fall back into sleep after waking up or he would fall right back into the nightmare. So, he would be lucky if he got at least three hours of sleep a night. Right now, he was surviving on coffee, energy drinks, and a few hours of sleep. But he knew deep down that he couldn't go on like this for much longer. He was on the verge of complete self-destruction.

After a few deep breaths and a quick ‘pull yourself together’ thought, he locked his car and headed towards his apartment stairs, he needed to drop off some milk that she needed before heading to his own apartment. It had taken her a few minutes to answer the door due to her ankle, but it at least gave him a few moments to put his mask back on tight. She thanked him again for the milk but also mentioned how tired he looked. She had started to mention this whenever she could with a worried look on her face. He quickly dismissed her concerns, saying that his shift had been a little crazy and that he planned on getting some sleep as soon as he ate something. It wasn't a full-fledged face lie, but it was close.

Thankfully, he was a very good liar when needed but he had a sneaking suspicion that Miss Herriot's background as a teacher meant she could see through his lies. Fortunately, she never brought it up with him. He said one last goodbye before heading to his own floor. He secretly wished he had the energy to spend more time with her. When he was hurt after the bombing, she had been his guardian angel. He once described her as a long-lost grandmother he never had, though not to her face (mostly because he was taught never to ask a woman's age). But he knew deep down that she saw and treated him like a grandson. Exactly like Abuela. But, unlike Abuela, he had no chance of losing her this time. He’d lost any right to the Diaz family because Eddie was barely speaking to him. Miss Herriot reminded him so much of Abuela that it scared him. The woman was a force to be reckoned with, but she appeared on the outside as if she couldn't hurt a fly. Most of all, he liked the idea that someone cared enough about him to be concerned about him. But, at the same time, he felt unworthy of it. He'd only hurt her in the long run. And he refused to do that to another person.

He moved down the long dark hallway as he reached his floor, but as he got closer to his front door, someone stepped out of one of the apartments further down the hall. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust but as they did, he realised who it was. He'd gotten to know his next-door neighbour quickly after she moved into the building. Natalia was a sweet girl from Ohio who had only recently moved to Los Angeles. She had kept to herself at first, as any stranger to the area would, but as time passed, she began to get to know some of the neighbours. He remembered looking at his watch as he was leaving Miss Herriot and knowing exactly where she was going so late. She had moved to LA for one reason, and like many others, she was pursuing a dream.

But, unlike many of those who had predicted that everything would be so simple, Natalia knew it wouldn't be and had a plan in place to ensure she achieved her goal. She was no fool. She was wise and had prepared several plans in case something unexpected happened to halt her progress. Her ambition was to train as a chef and one day open her own restaurant in a small neighbourhood to attract customers and help the local community. Buck saw her as someone worth knowing because all she wanted to do was help others. But she was also aware that her dream was a long way off. She had to work hard for it. She had enrolled in evening classes at the local college while working to save up enough money to train professionally. And she was doing well so far. He knew she was on her own based on what little he knew about her. Her parents acted similarly to his; they were too preoccupied with their own lives to notice their children’s. It was one of the reasons they had become such fast friends.

Just because she couldn't train professionally yet, that didn't mean she wasn't testing her skills on new recipes for her new neighbours. It was something that the building had already started doing when he moved in, they would cook for each other or swap recipes. But it wasn't until Natalia moved in that they began having dinners together, primarily on the roof, though they would occasionally meet up at the park or invite each other over for dinner. However, since the bombing, he had at first gotten a lot of food delivered to him. Thankfully that had slowed down now that he was ‘back at work’ and he had been very convincing that he had plans to avoid going to the dinners so he wouldn’t care unnecessary worry for his neighbours. He would just get in the way of them enjoying themselves.

Natalia had also been obtaining different recipes from different cultural backgrounds. She had complained that all she knew how to cook was American food with a bit of Europe influence. Thankfully the building was happy to share their recipes with her. She had swapped a few of them with the Salazars on the first floor. This was odd because Mrs Salazar guarded her receipts in the same way Abuela guarded hers. But then again, he knew that one of the only reasons why she had done it was only after she had taught Natalia how to make Mexican food "the right way," as she put it.

As well as the building dinners, Natalia had also been batch cooking for Miss Herriot since her fall. She would cook at least a week’s worth of food for herself and Miss Herriot since making a batch was easier than just cooking for one. Natalia had prepared a variety of slow-cooked family dinners, not just quick meals. Slow-cooked beef stew, chicken curries, fish pies, pasta bakes, chilli, and her favourite butternut squash and sweet potato soup. And much, much more. Miss Herriot only had to reheat them, saving her money and time on her feet. Miss Herriot had complained to him that Natalia wasn’t letting her pay for the ingredients or the food so he had mentioned that maybe paying her back with recipes might work. And it did.

However, Miss Herriot hadn’t been the only one she had been making these ‘care boxes’ as they were described. He had caught her a few times leaving him a few care boxes at his doorstep normally just before he got back from work. He had reminded her that he was fine now and that he could look after himself again, but she just shrugged and said it was just leftovers. He couldn’t refuse them, however, so he started to just freeze whatever he had left which was a lot. Her food lasted him twice or three times as long as he had to cut the small contents into three to make sure he wasn’t sick. And he had joined them, he only wished he could eat more of it without being sick. Truth be told, her dinners had been the only home-cooked meals he had eaten for weeks. Since he was getting food from Natalia and surviving on little meals and snacks, he never bothered cooking anymore. And it was not like he had to cook for guests anymore since no one came over to see him anymore.

He had thought about the only blood family member that cared for him, Maddie to see if she wanted to come and spend time with him but he knew that it wouldn’t likely happen. Maddie had her own life now, a new life with Chimney. And even if she agreed to come over, he knew the talk he would get from her. That he shouldn’t be a firefighter anymore as it was too dangerous or that he was pushing himself too much and needed to step back for a while. The same talk he had heard from everyone else. When he had first made it known that he wanted to return, Maddie had gone ballistic with him. Telling him that it was too dangerous for him to even consider going back. He had wanted to tell her that this was one of the safest jobs he had had in his life, but it hadn’t been the time to drop that bombshell on her. However, without Maddie, he had no one else to talk to since everyone else was either in the 118 or was family to them. He didn’t want to cause problems for anyone, so he kept away.

When he had walked away from his last job and travelled, his other family not his biological one, had tried to be there for him. They had done their best to keep in contact with him but in the end, he knew that he needed to let them move on with their lives. It was safer for them if he just left, it hurt, they had been his family for so long, but he would only cause them more pain if he stayed. A running theme in his life it seemed.

One of the few reasons why he hadn’t just packed up and left the area was the kindness that Miss Herriot, Natalia, and his other neighbours had shown him. They had all made him feel like he wasn’t such a waste of space. He felt useless when helping them, and often it wasn’t the big gestures that helped, it was the little ones. When he held a door open for someone they thanked him. Helping Miss Herriot with anything she needed even before her accident and helping Natalia move in when she first arrived in LA. He had helped her put up a shelf or two in her living room, a leaky pipe underneath her sink that she had been waiting for the building manager to fix since she moved in and helped hang a few art pieces that she had bought at a yard sale. No job was too big for him. He didn’t care if it meant hanging a shelf over her couch with her telling him if it was straight or not or working on a new bookshelf that she had delivered. That hour or two working on a project meant he wasn’t alone in his apartment wishing that he wasn’t there.

Strangely enough, it had been the reason why their friendship had grown so strong in only a few months. But there was no romance there, they were just very good friends. No matter how many times Miss Herriot had commented that the two of them would make a good couple. He wasn’t about to mess up the only friendship he had left. And he knew she felt the same. He was like an older brother to her now. And that was that.

However, it seems that he had started another friendship with lies once again. By not telling her the truth about himself. There was so much that he kept close to his chest even now. At times before the lawsuit, he had thought about telling them more about his past but as time went on, he could never find the right time, he also didn’t want to change their view of him. Who he had been back then wasn’t the person he was right now. And then with the lawsuit...there was no point in telling them. They would just hate him even more.

But with Natalia, he had the time to tell her little bits of his past that no one knew. One night after another horrible shift, she had caught him as he got to his apartment and asked him to help her with hanging a new piece of artwork she had gotten. He happily agreed and as they moved into her apartment, she went on about how when she first saw the painting, she knew that it would be her favourite. But it was when he saw the piece did his heart fluttered. It was an abstract piece that held a mixture of blues and greens that looked like they came so naturally. It was like the paint had just appeared together with no sign of interference. The only way it could be described is as peaceful and calming. But maybe he was a little biased since it was one of his own.

Not many people knew that he painted professionally and no one in LA knew that he painted at all. And that list grew even short of who knew that he had made a lot of money off his work. He never painted under his own name. Instead, he had signed them with the initials E.C.G. Whilst he had been travelling to find himself again, he had taken painting up again and had started to sell some of his work to make money. However, when he started to sell more professionally, he started to donate a lot of the money he made to charity. They were always local ones and set around the area where he did the paintings. An animal charity in Houston Texas, a community centre in New York and so many others that he had found along his road. Painting was one of the few things that he found could calm him. And back then he needed to find an escape that didn’t involve drugs or alcohol. Each of his paintings had meaning behind them, no matter if that meaning was clear to everyone or just to himself. And many reflected what his state of mind had been at the time.

His work had become so successful for collectors that he had to hire an agent to look after his work and name for him. The one rule that he had made sure his agent understood was that he was to keep his real identity was to remain secret. He didn’t want the flame and madness that came with people knowing his name. Also, he didn’t want his past to become public knowledge either. Mr Sanderford, an elderly Englishman who had moved to the US in the 1990s, had been the right man for the job. He understood why he wanted to keep his identity secret and had pretty much been the face of his work for him, attending showings, keeping his work moving to events and dealing with all the sales of his prints.

However, the secret identity meant that prints of his paintings had been sold for a lot more money than they would normally. People clearly loved the whole secret artist unknown to the world. Even with him not producing any new work in the last three years, his work was still producing him a good profit. Mainly because he controlled the number of prints of his paintings that had been made. He didn’t want his pieces to be printed and printed to meet the demand so he had a rule, he would only print ten prints of each piece before retiring the work. And maybe that was why he had made so much from them when he did release one. He never released more than two prints a year, so the print lasted longer. Thankfully he had completed a lot of work whilst travelling, many had still not been released so it looked like he was still painting. He just let Mr Sanderford know which painting he wanted to release and left it up to him.

However, he sadly had to drip into the money that he had saved up to keep himself afloat through his medical leave. The money that he had kept for himself, he had placed into savings or invested it into the community that surrounded him. In LA alone, he knew of three community centres and one hospital that had been improved amazingly with money that he had donated, of course anonymously. He had also paid for the new children’s ward that was still been built in the same hospital that he had been treated in. He didn’t want any credit for it, he just wanted to help people and if his money could change the lives of people around him then why not. He wasn’t a billionaire, but he was close, so he didn’t have to worry.

When he had met the 118, and they had welcomed him into their homes he had started to put together college funds for all the kids. He knew that he would need to speak to May soon since she had started to apply for colleges, but he had made the chose to have a letter sent via his attorney who oversaw his estate to explain everything. 

Hanging the piece in Natalia’s apartment, it felt right. But he did have to bite his tongue a lot when he was doing it as she went on about the piece. The piece had been one of the first prints of the original. In fact, it had been the first. The original painting was safe with an old friend. Natalia went on and explained that she was pretty sure that the piece was a knockoff as he knew that there were a few of those around but he knew it wasn’t. He knew that due to his hidden clue that he included in every one of his prints. Each print was not the same and the mark was impossible to see unless you know where to look. It was what made each print unique.

Only his agent and himself knew the message so if there were any enquiries about if a print was a fake or not, they would call Mr Sanderford to check it. And the one in Natalia’s apartment held the first mark of the series. He had felt bad for Natalia who had thought she had paid just over a hundred dollars for the piece as it seems that the previous owner had no clue that they had an original print. It happened but he was glad that she now owned the piece. She had called it her birthday present for herself. He had battled with the thought of just telling her that the piece was one of the original prints of the work and she could pay for college and part of her restaurant just by selling the print. However, he had a feeling that she wouldn’t do that. She loved it too much.

The print was of a painting he had done when he had visited the Yosemite National Park. He had camped on the edge of the Mirror Lake on Tenaya Creek. It had been the water’s reflection that had inspired the piece. The way that the trees blended into the water had caught his eye and had been the reason why he had started painting. He had gone there to visit an old friend who lived near the park but after three days staying with him, he needed to be alone again. He did miss his friend, but he could see that his friend had moved on with his life and now had a family. He didn’t need to worry about his old friend anymore and so he had gone and done some camping in the national park instead. Just brushing off his friend’s concern as if this had been his plan all along.

However as much as he loved this piece, he also remembered the killer hangover he had gotten after painting it. He had gotten very drunk when he had set up camp. He was at his lowest then, and he guess that was what his friend had been worried about. Him going off into the park, get drunk and do something stupid. From what he could remember he had started it after his tenth bottle and hadn’t finished it till early morning. When he had woken up with the mother of all hangovers and saw the piece that lay near the water, he had immediately come up with its name, ‘Chasing your dreams.’ He had no idea how he had finished it that drunk but he had done it.

In a way, he had been glad that one of these prints had fallen into Natalia’s hands as the name matched her personality completely. Selling any prints had been hard at times, those pieces had been the only way he could realise all his emotions and selling a copy of them felt like he was showing everyone his problems. The only thing that had made it better was that he had kept nearly all the originals unless he had given them to people, he cared about who he knew would never sell them. That night he hung that painting which had been one of the best nights he had had since before the bombing. Spending the night with Natalia, he had felt so much like his old self. Natalia was easy to talk to, she never judged him on anything. He didn’t tell her everything about his past but enough about his life in LA. She would often listen to him complaining about things and he would do the same for her.

Three hours later and a large bottle of wine, they had gone through so many topics that at the end of the bottle they had started on the topic of relationships. He had admitted to Natalia that he had been through a few bad ones and most of the time he had said it had been his own fault they had ended as he hadn’t wanted a relationship. His last true relationship had blown up so badly in his face that it had broken him, he had thought he had found the love of his life which only made it worse. She hadn’t pushed him to talk about the bad breakup as he wasn’t ready to talk about that just yet but just talking to someone about his problem who wouldn’t judge him. He felt bad to use Natalia as his soundboard for all his problems, but it wasn’t a one-way street. Natalia had used him to air out her problems as well, knowing that they wouldn’t judge each other for them. It was why their friendship had grown so quickly, they both respected each other and knew that they could count on each other for everything. But they also respected each other’s space and knew not to push a topic of conversation.

But right now, he didn’t want to talk. Talking would make everything so much worse now so he quickly unlocked his apartment door and slipped inside without a second glance towards Natalia and quickly closed the door. Turning the bolt as soon as it was closed. He knew that Natalia would understand that he didn’t feel up to talking. He stopped silently allowing his forehead to fall against the door as he listened to Natalia walk past his door. The cool wood against his head felt nice. It somewhat cooled his soul a little. He hated that he had to run and hide from his friend, but he couldn’t face anyone at the minute. It was for their own good because he was not a good person to be around at the moment. The next few minutes went by in silence, and he welcomed it. Lately everything had become so loud. Even the silence was deafening to him. All he wanted to do was to lock himself away in just complete silence and just allow his mind to go blank.

When he was still with his old team whenever he needed peace, he would simply put in a week’s leave and disappear for a week. He would normally book a cabin or a rented house somewhere away from the world and refocus. The only conditions his old team set was that if he felt like the world would be better without him that he sent out an S.O.S before he did something stupid and in return, he asked for them not to look for him. The only communication he would send was to one of them and that was just a short text telling them that he was ok but needed time. Thankfully they had all respected his wishes. He knew that he worried his family when he would disappear on them, but they all needed an escape from time to time. On the other hand, he had a feeling that his family knew exactly where he was every time he disappeared. He had no proof, it was just a feeling but knowing his brothers like he did, they knew. When he moved to LA, he found that he never wanted to be alone. It was like they had filled part of his life that he needed filling. And had been one of the reasons why he had lowered his guard. Something that he kicked himself for.

His phone in his jacket pocket suddenly vibrated telling him he had just gotten a text. The sudden sound and vibration brought him back into reality. He had no idea how long he had been resting against the door, but he didn’t make any attempt to check who had texted him, he already knew who it was. It was from Natalia. She would often text him after seeing that he was struggling or if she hadn’t seen him for a few days. Mainly to make sure that he was ok. He never normally answered her over the phone, but he would nod a silent thanks the next time he had seen her in the hallway. After all, this was his problem. He couldn’t and wouldn’t make others suffer because of the mess that was his life and the mess that he had caused himself. He bit down hard onto his bottom lip trying to control his emotions again as his chest started to become heavy. All the pain that he had packed deep inside himself had started to drip into him, it was like the dam that had been keeping all his emotions at bay had finally started to crack.

With one more deep breath, he slowly pulled his head off the door and slowly turned around to look at his cold empty apartment. Once this place had felt so much like home, somewhere he had felt safe. Now it only acted like a reminder of how much he had messed up. This place wasn’t his home anymore, yes it was a nice apartment that anyone would love but to him it was just a forever living nightmare. When he had brought the place, he had wanted to build a life here. With a family and friends that would be there for him but now he had no one. It was then that it finally hit him and what finally broke the dam that he had built to protect himself all those years ago. He was alone again. His legs suddenly gave away from underneath him however he managed to catch himself against the door. He felt like all his emotions that he had kept locked away had started to spurt out of the cracks in his dam. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t deal with this pain anymore.

Unable to hold his own body against the door anymore, he allowed himself to slip down to the floor. And as he came to rest against his door, his dam finally broke. All he could do was shake as all his pain came flooding out. He felt the tears just start to flow from his eyes. He couldn’t stop them, he was done. He couldn’t do this anymore; he was too damn tried to fight anymore. Tired of being alone, tired of losing people that he cared about and saw as family. Tired of letting people down, failing them.

He was such a failure.

Maybe if he had stopped trying to make something of himself, then he wouldn’t have hurt so many people. Since he was born a failure, maybe he shouldn’t have fought so hard against that label. He just wanted to sleep. Sleep without nightmares. Sleep without worrying that he would relive his worse moments of his life. Sleep without pain. He was tired of fighting when there was no point to it. He should have died years ago. In his mind he knew that parts of him had, but it was only now that his body was catching up with him.

Without making a sound, he brought his knees to his chest and hugged until he could rest his chin onto his knees. Making himself as small as possible. The only thing that came to his mind that made any sense to him was that he was just a complete screw-up. Every time he had managed to create a family, he destroyed it. Maybe he was meant to be alone. It made sense. He knew that if he spoke the words out loud people would just claim that he was being overdramatic but looking back he found that everyone he ever cared about always found a reason to leave. His parents had never wanted him.

However, at least they had never acted like they had ever cared about him or pretended it. He was invisible to them unless he had done something to draw their attention. But that was normally only for a short period of time or when their own social life got started again. Any other time, they just forgot that he existed. They were never abusive towards him or anything like that, they were just absent from his life. Not that he cared since he had never known them to care about him.

The only person who cared for him as a child was Maddie. She had basically raised him for as long as he could remember and the only thing that was stable in his entire childhood. She would be the one that stayed up late to help him with his homework, even if he didn’t need it. She would pick him up after practice and be there for nearly every game he played. She really was the only parent he had ever known. But that hadn’t been enough to make her stick around for any longer than necessary. She abandoned him as everyone else did.

Maddie was the golden child in their parents’ eyes. He remembered one time that he sat on the top of the stairs with his hands wrapped around his knees as he saw his parents leave with Maddie for one of her events. They would never dream of missing one of Maddie’s award shows or events, no, that would make people believe that they weren’t good parents. She could do no wrong when they were growing up. That was until she met Doug. That was when everything had gone wrong. Doug was nice enough at first, but when he had seen less and less of Maddie because she had been with him, he liked him a lot less. Also, he was not well-liked by their parents, and they weren’t shy about letting her know they didn’t approve of him. Day after day, they would bring it up with her. And after five long months of consent arguments and fights, Maddie had had enough. She had moved out, off to start a new life away from their parents with Doug. Leaving him behind.

At first, all he felt was anger. Sometimes he wouldn’t answer the phone when she called. Or lock himself in his room when she came around when their parents had been out. Looking back, it was childish but back then had left him with two people that he barely knew. But losing Maddie wasn’t the only thing that he was angry about. Three days after Maddie had packed her stuff and had left, did their parents do something that shocked him. They just packed everything that had been in Maddie’s room up and threw it out. Her furniture, books, and any clothes she had left. Within a day any trace of Maddie from that room had been wiped clean. The room was painted and set up as another office. The whole house had been cleared of her, all except her photographs that lined the hallway. Photos of Maddie at school and her graduation. They remained properly to keep up appearances to make it look like they still had a good relationship with their daughter.

He was used to not having his photos around the house. Any time he would have his photo taken, they never bothered to put it up like they did with Maddie’s and sometimes just forgot to order them when they were sent the letter. Every time he came down the stairs and he saw her photos he hoped that maybe that was a little sign that their parents did have a heart. But he knew better. It was all about their appearance, other than that they just acted like she didn’t exist just like they did with him. The next week, he just watched his parents go back to their normal selves as he did his best to stay out of their way. He had stupidly left his skateboard in the hall once and had found it in the bin outside with the rest of Maddie’s things. Thankfully he had managed to save it before the bins had been collected. However, after that, he quickly made sure that all his stuff was kept safe either on himself or locked in his room.

They acted like they had no other children left at home. But then again, they had never paid much attention to him anyway so really nothing had changed except Maddie leaving. But that was only for the first week after that was when everything changed forever. It started slowly, his parents would leave for the day and not return until the next day. They wouldn’t tell him they were leaving; he would just come back from school to find the house empty. But then their trips would increase to two nights, then four nights and then a week or two. Every time their trips would go on for a longer each time, leaving him alone in the house. Every time he would just come home from school to the house in silence. No note telling him where they had gone and for how long. The only reason he knew that they hadn’t just gone out was the empty wardrobes and missing suitcases.

For a time, he didn’t mind being left alone. In fact, he enjoyed it. Normally he would lock himself in his room when they were home until he could smell dinner and then go down for some food. But with them gone, he could do what he wanted. Watch tv in the living room, eat whatever was in the house and just enjoy the house without having to deal with his parents. However, as time went on and with them leaving more and more, he found himself facing the same problem. Food. Or lack of it. More than once, he would come in from school to find them gone and the fridge either empty or very close to it. They never bothered to fill it when they left for him. Or leave any money behind for him to buy food. When it had gotten to week two of his parents not coming home and he had run out of food, he had tried to call Maddie to see if she could give him some money or go with him to buy food. But every time he tried to get through to her, he would always get her voicemail, or her phone would cut out. Meaning he was on his own.

Thankfully, he had a lot of friends that he could count on. He never told them what was happening, but he would often make an excuse to go over to their houses late like working on homework or just wanting to hang out. Their families always made him stay for dinner, Mrs Alves, his best friend Leo’s mum always sent him home with extra food telling him that she thought that he was a little thin. He knew that he had lost some weight as he had been very strict about what he ate, trying to keep the food that he did have a little longer.

He had also stopped eating lunch at school, mainly because he didn’t have the money to pay for it. His friends really liked having him over, mainly for help with their homework or just having someone else to talk to. Leo, his best friend, had only been living in the States for two years after he and his whole family had moved to the States from Brazil. His English was good but not the best when he first came. But that didn’t matter to him, Leo was his friend and that was that. They had met on his first day at school and they had become fast friends. As time went on and their friendship grew, he would make sure that any help Leo or his family needed, he was there for them. He had even worked closely on making sure that Leo’s English improved to the standards that were needed from their school. They would spend a lot of time together in the library or at Leo’s house going over the English homework. And in turn, he had also helped other members of Leo’s family with their English as well.

Leo had even started to teach him some Portuguese in return for his English lessons. They had become like brothers, and he had always been welcome at the Alves home. But he also hated that he had to count on others to make sure that he was fed. He felt bad that he had to count on his friends’ parents to feed him when his own parents had basically abandoned him. The only person that knew that there was no love between him, and his parents was Leo, but he had made him swear not to tell anyone. As much as he knew that there was no love between him and his parents, they were still his parents, and he didn’t want them to get in trouble. As time went on and he started to realize that this was now the new normal, he needed to look after himself. Which meant being able to provide for himself. He needed money and for that, he needed to find a job that he could have around school because he was not about to give up on his dreams of getting out of town.

One week later he had managed to find some work. He had joined the maintenance crew that looked after the ice-ring that he trained on. He had found himself laughing so hard when they had been called to that ice-skating accident as it had been years since he had last stepped foot on the ice. He had been like Bambi on ice that day and if any of his former teammates had seen him then they would have laughed their arses off. Mr Samson, his boss, had quickly become his first father figure in his life. Mr Samson was a man of very few words, but he didn’t need to because you could just tell by his life if something was wrong or if you were going something wrong.

Also, when he did speak, people listened. He just had that presence about him. He had always liked the man, he always said hello to him and asked him how he was when he went past. He treated them all like family, it didn’t matter that he was just in charge of the maintenance team, he was always there for them whenever they needed him. They were more open with him than they were with their coach. He had been a professional hockey player with the Pittsburgh Penguins but had chosen to take retirement early. Because of that, he had taken any advice he was willing to give to help him improve his game. However, unlike a normal job, he hasn't applied for it.

Without him realising it, Mr Samson had been watching him a lot closer than he had ever done before. He had without meaning to, giving off some signals that Mr Samson had picked up on. And that had come to a head one night after a long and tiring training session when he sat alone in the locker room. That was where Mr Samson had found him. He had already changed out of his training clothes and was sitting on the bench trying to work out what he was going to do for dinner. All his friends had already left and he hadn’t had time to go shopping so that meant he would have to go tonight which wasn’t what he wanted to do this late at night.

He had to be careful with what money he had, which meant he hadn’t bothered getting any lunch and it was just his luck that Mr Samson had come into the locker room at the exact time when his stomach grumbled violently. Normally if anyone was in the room with him when this happened then he would try to hide it, but he was damn too tired to do that anymore. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be a child again and not the adult that he had to become. Mr Samson had been the first adult to tell him something that he had needed to hear for years and that was that none of this had been his fault. He couldn’t control how his parents acted or how they felt towards him. In the end, Mr Samson had taken him to dinner at the local diner that sat only two blocks from the ring and had offered him the job.

He had learned so much during those few hours that he spent with Mr Samson. Not just about the man in front of him but also about himself. He wasn’t alone anymore; he didn't have to hide everything from everyone. He had someone to talk to that wouldn’t judge him or tell him that he was the problem. It felt nice. He had also learned that Mr Samson was not what he seemed. After his hockey career had come to an end, he had ended up joining the Navy Seals. He had seen combat in Vietnam, but he barely spoke of it. Not that he blamed him. Mr Samson didn’t say a lot however he could tell that whatever he had witnessed was still haunting him to this day. But he never allowed his pain to hold him back. They spent hours just talking. Mr Samson had answered all the questions he had. Upon hearing about the brotherhood that Mr Samson had gotten from the Seals had been one of the reasons why he had looked into the Navy as soon as he could. He even headed down to the local recruitment office to pick up some more information.

Meeting Mr Samson had been a blessing, the only thing he asked of him was to be himself. If it hadn’t been for him, then he had a feeling that he could have easily gone down the wrong path. The only thing that he asked of Mr Samson was that he kept everything he had told him secretly. He didn’t want his parents to get into trouble, no matter how nasty they were to him. After he had left home after finishing school he had gone and told Mr Samson that he was leaving personally, even before he had started packing. It was like he was telling his father that he was leaving. Because he was very much his father in all but blood. He was there for every game that he played, helped with his homework before and after his training sessions and had helped him just by having someone to talk to. He had promised to keep in contact with him and let him know how he was doing.

However, sadly two years later he had gotten a call from Leo who had stayed in Hershey with the news that Mr Samson had been killed in a car crash. The news had hit him like a ton of bricks, he had only just talked to Mr Samson the other day and now he was just gone. With no family left, the ice-ring and the teams had organised his funeral for him. They had even gotten an honour guard from the Navy to be there as he was a retired veteran. Losing Mr Samson was devastating to him, he had lost the only father he ever knew.

Thankfully he had been able to attend Mr Samson’s funeral to pay his last respect to a man who had saved him. After everyone had left, he stood at the grave alone. He promised that he would do for others what he had done for him. Save as many people as possible to pay Mr Samson back for all the kindness that he had shown to him. He wanted to make Mr Samson proud of him. He knew that it was childish to want someone to be proud of him but at the same time he had always wanted someone to be proud of him.

The one thing that made it a little easier to say goodbye was that Mr Samson had always ended their conversations telling him that he was proud of him and that he knew that he would go far in life. As much as it hurt to lose Mr Samson the way he did only reminded him of a lesson that he had been taught not that long ago and that was that life was too short. And if he wanted to make sure that he didn’t leave things unsaid then he needed to try.

It was why he had started to send Maddie the postcards. Thankfully he knew which hospital she was working in so instead of risking Doug hiding them, he just sent them there. However, not wanting her to worry about his choice of lifestyle, sending postcards from those locations would give his sister a heart attack. He was grateful that he had kept all the postcards he had bought when he had been travelling from all around the US, he had kept his messages short and sweet. Not wanting to give too much away to her due to the worry that she might try and track him down only to find him not there. Not that she would as she was too busy living the life she wanted. But simply writing to her made him feel like she was still part of his life.

Then suddenly, she finally came back into his life after years of only communicating through postcards. At first, he was shocked that she was there with him. The first few days, he had to keep checking when he got up that she was still there, and he hadn’t been dreaming that she had turned up on his doorstep. He didn’t really know what to think when she had first arrived. Happy, angry, confused and scared all at the same time. He was happy that he had finally gotten his older sister back in his life. She was the only blood relative alive that cared about him.

But at the same time angry and confused, why had she abandoned him for so long? Why hadn’t she come and visit him after she left? But most importantly for him, he was scared that she would just get up and leave him again. She had once promised him that she would never leave him and yet she did. Would she do it again? But there was something else that worried him more than being abandoned again. Would she like the person he was now? He wasn’t the same little boy she walked out on. Or did she want him to go back to how he was before she had left? Because he knew that was never going to happen. She couldn’t go back and change the past, no matter how much he wished she could. But when he had learnt the truth about why she had kept away from him he felt physically sick. He had to fight the instinct to hunt Doug down personally and make him hurt as much as he had felt Maddie. He knew that he could do it without getting caught. No one would be the wiser.

On the other hand, he knew that he couldn’t do anything like that. That wasn’t the person he was. His focus had to be Maddie. That was his task. He also hated himself for thinking that Maddie had left him for a better life when she had been suffering more than him. Why hadn’t he seen it? He had seen Doug and Maddie together and hadn’t seen any sign of the abuse that he knew now was happening. Could he have saved her from years of abuse if he had only tried a little harder to see her after she had left? He had a paid job; he could have easily caught a flight or a bus to see her during the holidays. Or keep in touch with her more.

He had her phone number; he could have easily phoned her. He should have fought harder to make sure she had stayed in his life. But he hadn’t, he had been too angry with her for that. Instead, he had abandoned her. He had left her alone and had basically helped Doug by removing himself from her life. And that had been one of the most painful things that had come to mind after finding out the truth. From that moment, he had vowed that he wouldn’t let her down again. He would be there for her with whatever she needed. His life didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was helping Maddie rebuild her life.

But there was part of his brain that wouldn’t allow him to dissolve all his anger towards Maddie. She had left him. Maybe only with time would tell if that feeling would always be there. However, that was his problem, not Maddie’s. When Maddie had turned up on his doorstep, she had come to him because she had needed her brother. She hadn’t just come to him because she knew that he would take her in, she had come to him because they were family. He was safe and would protect her as much as possible from Doug. She had chosen him over their parents. But then again, they would have just sent her back to Doug or kicked her out as soon as she had turned up on their doorstep. But then she had chosen to stay with him.

Through him, she had been welcomed into the 118 family and through that, she had met Chimney. At first, he had been a little worried about his sister dating one of his co-workers but then he had seen her with him. He made her happy. And that was all that mattered. She could start a new relationship in a safe place with her friends and family around her. Deep down he was happy that the person Maddie was starting her new life was with a man like Chimney. He was a good guy. Someone who he knew would be there for her, for good and for bad. He could show her what a happy and healthy relationship looked like.

Seeing Maddie happy was nice, she was rebuilding her life after everything she had been through. However, it was because of her new happiness that he hadn’t told her what had been happening at the station. He knew that Maddie would have his back even if he was partly to blame. The only problem he saw with that was that he wouldn’t be able to tell if she was supporting him because he was right or if she was just doing it because he was her brother. But he had also started to notice since he had been hurt, she had started to treat him like she did when he was a child. That he didn’t know what was best for himself and needed looking after. And it was that behaviour that stopped him from ever counting on Maddie to take his side. She wanted to protect him, he knew that but there was a difference between protecting and stopping him from doing something that he loved.

Why was he still here? It was a question that kept replying inside his head. He had already the one reason he had to stay in LA. They didn’t need him. They didn’t want him. They had their own lives, and they were living them happily without him. Why should they? He wasn’t family anymore. He was just a problem that they were stuck with. Maybe just leaving was the best option. For everyone. It would make their lives so much easier if they didn’t have to deal with him anymore. Other than Maddie, he had no family left. Yes, Maddie would be upset and angry at him for leaving but she had a life here now. A good job, friends and a family that loved her. He couldn’t destroy that for her.

The only other reason why he hadn’t just left and that was thinking what his leaving would do to Christopher. He loved that kid with every inch of his being, even if he wasn’t his, he would do anything for him. But he had lost him too in a way. Eddie had made sure of that. The only way he had been able to speak to him was through Carla. She had been a god sent. He knew that Eddie had no idea that they were still speaking, and he had made sure that it didn’t happen often in case Christopher had let it slip to Eddie and it got Carla in trouble. Christopher needed Carla and so did Eddie. He couldn’t destroy that friendship as well. He might have lost Eddie, but he didn’t want Christopher to have to lose not only him but Carla as well.

He smiled a little at the thought of Carla. No matter what happened to him, Christopher would be well looked after. Carla would make sure of that. He knew that he could count on her for anything, she was an angle he was certain. He knew that Christopher would more likely hate him for leaving him. The kid had so many issues thanks to his mother leaving and then her death but with time, he would forget him and move on with his life. Just like the rest of the 118 was doing. Christopher was so smart that no matter what happened, he would be able to move on without too many problems. Maybe find someone better to love who wouldn’t let him down as he had done. Wouldn’t fail him as he had done so many times before.

Wiping away his tears that had scared his face he slowly pulled himself again and slowly shifted deeper into his apartment leaving his locker bag at the door. He had started to leave his locker empty at the station after someone had broken in and trashed it. The worse was when he had come in to find his locker completely trashed and hanging open, whoever had done it wanted him to see it. Everything inside it was either cut up or broken. All of Christopher’s drawings that he had kept inside it were gone and the one photo that he had inside it was ripped to shreds. Thankfully it had only been a photo of the team one Christmas and he had a spare one at home. He hadn’t bothered to report it to Bobby as he knew that his ‘Captain’ wouldn’t care. And since he had his spare uniform in his truck, he just went and got it, cleaned up the mess and went on to start his never-ending list of chores.

He moved towards the stairs completely forgetting that he needed to eat something as the need to throw himself under a warm shower was greater than food. He hadn’t bothered to shower at the station anymore since it would mean leaving his things out in the open for someone to destroy. And since he never went out on calls, he didn’t need to shower there. He also knew that it would just give the others another excuse to blame him for taking up all the hot water or taking too long when the showers were only to be used by firefighters. But he knew, deep down the real reason for not showering at the station and that was now he didn’t feel safe there. Showering meant that he was vulnerable, not that he thought they would physically hurt him, but he couldn’t stop the feeling. Nor did he want to risk it.

He also felt dirtier than he had ever felt before. He had betrayed his family and now they acted like he was a disease that just caused pain to those around him. All he did was make people suffer. Cause them pain. He had come into their lives and had made everything ten times worse. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he destroy everything he touched? Right now, all he wanted to do was to go upstairs, turn his phone off, sit in the shower until his skin felt numb and then get into bed, swallow every single pill that he had been given to manage his pain which he had refused to take. Maybe then he would find peace. To just fall asleep and never get up.

As his foot touched the bottom step and those thoughts flooded into his mind, he felt his entire body freeze. He couldn’t even catch his breath; it was like his entire body had frozen where he was. He was so weak. He should be stronger than this. Right? He was a firefighter, he used to run into burning buildings without a second thought. But now he was just a coward. Just like everyone thought he was. Maybe it was right for him to take the coward’s way out since he was one. Die as he lived, right?

Then suddenly, his legs gave out from under him, hitting the stairs hard but the pain broke him out of his own mind. What was he doing? He was a failure, but he couldn’t do that to Maddie. He knew that if he had killed himself then it would be her to find him. No one else cared to check on him. And so, it would be the only blood family that loved him to find his cold dead body. He couldn’t do that to her. Not after everything she had been through already.

He needed help. But who would want to help him? He couldn’t call the team and even if he did, he knew that no one would answer him. If by some miracle, someone did answer him he knew that all they would say was that it was his own fault, that he needed to get a grip of himself and stop being selfish. Eddie’s comment about him only thinking of himself came to mind so quickly and stayed there. Maybe he was only thinking about himself, after all he didn’t care about them. But he did and that was what was killing him. They hated him and he loved them all the same.

But what scared him even more than thinking about killing himself was thinking that everyone would be happy about it. They would be happy that he was gone but at the same time annoyed that he had caused so much trouble. Planning a firefighter’s funeral took a lot of work and money for the department. If he got a department service. More likely they would just leave it to Maddie to have a small gathering if anyone turned up and bury him and forget about him. But afterwards, they would be happy that he wasn’t causing problems. The 118 might go only to keep up appearances to the other houses if they did have a department funeral but deep down, they would just call him selfish and inconsiderate. Keeping them from doing their jobs.

But thinking more clearly, why couldn’t he think about himself? Why couldn’t he be selfish? This was his life. And he had been through enough hell to warrant some selfishness, right?

Maybe disappearing was the best option for him. Leaving everything behind and just moving on to the next step of his life. If he had one. It would be easier for everyone. He would keep up communication with Maddie for a few months before stopping and after that, if he died then he died. Maddie would have closure at least and the department wouldn’t have to bother with him anymore.

But then his mind remembered something that stopped the little voice in his head telling him to end it all to suddenly go silent. He remembered promising his brother one last thing before they parted ways. A promise he had sworn to himself that he would keep. Steve wasn’t his brother by blood, but he was very much his older brother and father figure all wrapped up together along with being his teacher, mentor, and friend. He owed the man his life. He had saved him more times than he could count, and he had done the same for him.

Saying goodbye to him had been one of the hardest things he had done in his life but at the same time, he knew that he needed to leave. He needed to find himself again. And he had, well he had thought he had. The promise he had made when he had been at his lowest was that if the thought that the world would be better if he wasn’t in it ever came into his head then he would call him. A promise that he knew he had to keep, or he knew that his brother would travel to hell and back, dragging his soul back to his body only so he could kill him himself. And he knew he would do. Without a question.

However, the only thing that worried him about calling his brother was that they hadn’t spoken in years. They had texted a few times, letting each other know where they were and what they were doing. Not many details but enough to know that they were both safe. He was glad that his older brother had settled down and was doing well in his new life and yet that was one of the reasons why he was scared to call. If he called him then he would interrupt his life as he did with everyone else’s. Maybe he shouldn’t call and just deal with his own problems like normal. But that wouldn’t work. Not for this. Being alone was one of his problems.

Without even thinking about it, he found himself sitting with his phone in his hand with contacts open his finger hovering over his brother’s number. It was an old number, and he hadn’t texted him for a good few months. Maybe it was outdated? No. He needed to do this. Didn’t he? His finger hovered over his brother’s number. He had saved it under “Cmder Smooth Dog”.

When Maddie had once gone through his phone to call Bobby, she had seen the name and had asked about it. It had taken a few seconds to come up with an answer that didn’t bring his past to the surface. He wasn’t ready to tell his older sister that he had lied to her about dropping out of the Seals and had in fact not only passed selection but had come out top of the class and had been selected personally to join a special unit right after. It had been there that he had found his new family. Instead, he had just shrugged his shoulders and said it was a friend that he knew from travelling as he had been his boss and a lady’s man. Which wasn’t far from the truth. He just had missed out on the fact that he was his old commanding officer and brother who he serviced with.

He knew that it would hurt her a lot if she realised that during the time they weren’t speaking, she could have gotten a knock on her door telling her that her little brother was dead. She may have been next of kin if he was killed in action however, he had put Steve down as his next of kin, so he had someone he trusted to make any decision if he wasn’t able to. And thankfully, she had only come close to getting that knock on the door twice in his career. Once when he had been hit in the head by shrapnel as he tried to land a helicopter which he had never flown before and time he had jumped on top of a grenade to protect his brothers. Both times had nearly cost him his life and both times he had survived. His brothers used to tell him that he had the best guardian angel or the worst luck and he couldn’t argue with them because it was true. He had also noticed that his skills for finding trouble had followed him into the LAFD.

He knew after the last time he had been hurt that his skill of finding trouble would be his downfall and he had been right. He had lost his adopted family once again. Maybe Steve could help him, maybe not. Without maybe meaning to, he clicked on the call icon and held the phone loosely against his ear. He knew that there was a strong possibility that the phone wouldn’t connect or if it did, maybe it wasn’t the best time to call. Steve could be busy with his own life. He didn’t need to listen to how badly he had screwed up his own life.

But then his thought was broken by a voice on the other end. And at that moment, he felt like all the worry that he had had inside him had just dropped a few feet down, so it wasn’t too close to the surface.

“McGarrett,” His brother sounded the same as he had always done. He felt safe just by hearing Steve’s voice. It was like an automatic response that had been caused by knowing that his brother always had his back no matter what. He just felt safe.

“Hello…” Steve’s voice rang through again. He was safe.