Archive of Our Own

“Hello?” Buck said, voice echoing through the vehicle bay. It didn’t seem as if the firefighters of station 118 were out on a call, as all its vehicles were present — from the ladder truck to the captain’s car. The lights were on, both in the bay and upstairs in the loft area, but there wasn’t a single person to be seen. And, it was dead silent. Though it was a strange kind of silence, like the kind that came when someone held their breath.

Buck didn’t know what he had been expecting. For a moment, his skin prickled with goosebumps, but he passed the back of the ambulance and they went down again.

“Hello?” Buck repeated as he started up the stairs to the loft. “I’m looking for Captain Nash. Captain Robert Nash?”

At the top of the stairs he saw a combined living and dining area, with a set of couches and a TV at one end, the dining tables in the middle, and a fully-fledged kitchen at the other end. Although the TV was an ancient, bulky model far predating the digital era, and the sofas were faded and worn, the kitchen was all shiny chrome and polished glass. Gadgets Buck didn’t even know the names of decorated the counters, and there was a faint, earthy scent of yeast in the air. But the kitchen, too, was empty.

“Hel-lo?” Buck said impatiently.

“What are you doing here, kid?” came a voice from behind him. Buck whirled around to see a middle-aged man with a pleasant, friendly face standing there in an LAFD uniform.

“I’m looking for Captain Nash.”

“Well, you found him.”

“Oh, great!” Buck said, holding out the two pieces of paper he’d been carrying. “This is my résumé and my records from the fire academy. I’d like to interview for a position at your station.”

Captain Nash frowned, but to Buck’s surprise, he actually took the papers. He walked over to the nearest table and leaned against it as he studied what Buck had written. It almost seemed like he was checking if it was a real résumé at all, rather than whether Buck was qualified to be a firefighter.

“No offence, kid. I’m not sure you’d fit in here,” Captain Nash said after a moment. “I mean, with all the opportunities in L.A., why would you want to work at the 118?”

Buck took a deep breath. “My last station and I weren’t a good fit. I screwed up. Got fired. But firefighting is my life. It’s the only thing I have, so I can’t just give up. I’m qualified, and I’ll give everything I have to make sure this works. Please give me another chance.”

“You want to use our station as a means to get back into the LAFD, because you know we’re semi-independent and can rehire you even though you were fired?” Bobby shook his head. “I’m afraid that won’t work for us.”

“What? No,” Buck said, startled. “I didn’t think that far ahead, but if I did, I guess I would’ve assumed that I’d just stay here.”

Captain Nash’s eyes narrowed as he looked Buck up and down, a little more seriously this time. “What’d you get fired for?”

Buck braced himself as he said, “Unapproved use of LAFD property.”

Captain Nash’s expression didn’t change, but Buck could feel the vibes of paternal disappointment radiating from him.

“I took a joyride in the engine,” Buck blurted out. “I know it was wrong, and I know I screwed up. I just didn’t think anyone would get hurt!”

“Did someone get hurt?”

Buck flinched backwards, his heart picking up at the aura of genuine menace that radiated from Captain Nash. It wasn’t just a posture or expression — it was an almost visceral feeling.

“No!” Buck defended himself as quickly as he could. “No one got hurt. I was being irresponsible, not evil.”

“It would’ve been easy for that situation to blow up in your face. You got lucky.”

“I know,” Buck admitted, clenching his fists behind his back.

Captain Nash studied him for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Son, I’m sorry, but I just don’t think that —” Suddenly, he cut off, tilting his head and looking away from Buck. It took a moment, but then Buck heard it too — a faint whisper at the edge of his hearing.

— Oh, c’mon, Cap. Nothing ever changes around here. We could use some entertainment.

— I’m with Chim. Let’s liven the place up a little.

Captain Nash sighed. “And how does everyone else feel?”

There were more whispers — a great, overlapping chorus of them that Buck just couldn’t parse. A chill went down his spine, but he stubbornly refused to shiver.

After a moment, Captain Nash threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine! Alright.” He turned back to Buck. “My crew is in favour of giving you a shot. Of course, we’d have to lay some strict ground rules. But first, I have to ask: are you sure you want to be part of a haunted workplace?”

Station 118 was the only fire station in the world crewed entirely by ghosts. The whole A shift of the 118 and about a second shift’s worth of firefighters from other stations had all died in a massive five alarm apartment fire in the early 70s, but the firefighters involved had just… kept going. Mass ghost generating events (MGGEs, or “Maggies” in first responder lingo) were rare, and rarer still were ones which resulted in fully corporeal ghosts. But something about the firefighters’ determination and courage had bound their spirits to their station and to each other that day.

To most people, they were an odd footnote in a textbook, or a cool factoid from the internet. To those they saved, they were firefighters like any others. To Buck, they were hopefully his future coworkers, and he didn’t give a shit about ruining the ‘all ghost’ statistic.

“Hell, yeah,” he said. “If you’ve ever thought, ‘wow, it sure would be convenient to have a living guy around here to do this thing for us,’ well, I want to be that guy.”

Captain Nash looked amused. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “So. Ground rules. How long were you at your last station?”

“Four months.”

“Great. You’re on probation for four months. Not the normal kind. You manage not to cause any problems, you can start your official probationary year from the beginning. Otherwise, you’re packing your bags. Two, you’re gonna live here. If you’re gonna be one of us, you have to dedicate yourself to this station the same way we have. Three, the captain’s office is off limits. As far as you’re concerned, this kitchen is my office. If I see you so much as put a finger on the door, you’re out. Four, get some counselling for your engine-stealing issues. We have a resident therapist, or you can see someone else from the department if he’s not a good fit.”

“Therapy?” Buck said dubiously. He didn’t think he needed therapy. And was Captain Nash saying a ghost therapist lived here? Why? Did they even have therapy in the 70s?

“I need more insurance than your word that it won’t happen again,” Captain Nash said, which Buck supposed was fair.

“Okay. Are those all the conditions?”

“No. One more thing. We have people of different races, genders, and sexualities on our crew. It’s 2018, kid, and if a bunch of ghosts from the 70s can get over our prejudices, so can the rest of the LAFD. If I hear a single bigoted word out of your mouth, you’re out.”

“Oh,” Buck said, blinking in shock. “Uh. That’s not a problem for me. I’m bisexual.” He threw out the label more as a test for Captain Nash than as a disclosure.

“Thanks for telling me,” Captain Nash said with a nod. “I’ll make sure you have leave for the parades next June with the others, if you’re still with us by then.”

“Right,” Buck said, feeling the situation was growing a bit surreal. It would’ve been nice if his classmates in high school were this accepting; but whatever, it was good to know he wasn’t gonna get kicked out of the ghost station for being too modern. “When do I start work?”

“How long will it take you to move in?”

Buck shrugged. “I could be done by the end of the day.”

Captain Nash nodded. “Get your things. Come back tomorrow and move in. I’m on shift right now, so I’ll add you to the schedule as our calls permit. Might be another day or two on that.”

“Thanks, Captain Nash. You won’t regret it!” Buck said excitedly.

At that, Captain Nash’s expression softened ever-so-slightly. “I hope not, kid. Now, why don’t you call me Bobby?”

⁂

Station 118 had several bunk rooms, including — to Buck’s surprise — one solely for women. Although there were enough ghosts living there to fill two shifts, they didn’t need to sleep. When they were incorporeal, they could enter a peaceful sort of dozing or dreaming state, but for that they didn’t need a physical space like a bed.

For this reason, Buck was told that the smallest of the three men’s bunk rooms would be his entirely — the only place in the station the ghosts would try to avoid going unless invited. Although he was also assured that nobody went into the toilet stalls, even if they did like to use the showers sometimes.

Buck had few possessions to his name, and certainly no furniture, as he’d been rooming in what essentially amounted to a frat house prior to coming here. It was easy enough to make up one of the bunks for himself and use the one underneath it for storage.

Funnily enough, he wasn’t sure if he liked the “no ghosts in Buck’s bunk room” rule. The sounds of the other firefighters moving around at night at his previous station had been sort of companionable. But then again, maybe Buck would’ve gotten sick of them if he’d been there 24/7 instead of just a few nights a week.

Food, he was told, was not going to be an issue. Despite being dead, the ghosts could still enjoy the sensory experience of eating, although they could only eat very small quantities per day. Bobby loved to cook, so he would make whatever he felt like, let any interested ghosts taste it, and send the rest to a local soup kitchen. This was a longstanding tradition, dating back longer than Buck had even been alive, and it was the reason the station’s kitchen was one of the most modernised parts of the building.

On the downside, there was no WiFi. When Buck asked, he was told that the station had one single computer hooked up to Ethernet, and if he wanted to use it, he would have to reserve a time slot on the communal sign up sheet. That sucked, because Buck had a cheap phone plan with very little data, and he was going to have difficulty going on research binges or watching shows that way. He would have to make do with going to the library for entertainment, though without having to commute to work he’d have plenty of spare time to do it.

According to Chimney, Bobby was considering getting WiFi for the station if Buck successfully passed his four month pre-probation, though that would require some paperwork. After Buck’s first week, the fire chief had paid the station a visit, because he wanted to know why Bobby was requesting not only an employee’s salary — the ghosts were not paid — but also an increased budget for bathroom supplies and the other staples Buck would need. Buck felt a little bad about causing problems for Bobby — who he was rapidly growing to like — but Bobby hadn’t seemed phased by the chief’s visit. Buck gathered from some of the station gossip that Bobby enjoyed being able to take care of his people.

As for the station’s other occupants, Buck got to know some of them quite well. The A-shift paramedics, Hen and Chimney, were especially friendly. If Buck didn’t know better, he would’ve thought they were an old married couple. In fact, Hen’s wife (!!) was one of the few non-firefighter ghosts in the building, along with Frank the therapist. Among the other firefighters, Buck got to know Ravi, Lena, Lucy, and Red. The latter was the only ghost to have joined the station after the turn of the century. After he was diagnosed with mesothelioma, he got the 118’s permission to die in the building so he could keep firefighting after his death. Buck thought that was pretty metal.

There was one other firefighter on A-shift who Buck had technically met, but who he couldn’t figure out at all — Eddie Diaz, Buck’s work partner. He was capable, intelligent, and decisive on the job, but as soon as the shift was over, he would vanish completely. Although Buck tried to make conversation with him, he didn’t manage to learn a single personal fact about Eddie other than that he was half Swedish and half Mexican. And that was only because of a call where they met some anti-Hispanic bigot. He couldn’t deny that Eddie was intriguing — which might have been code for annoyingly handsome — but he was standoffish as fuck in a way none of the other ghosts were.

“Don’t take him personally,” Lena told Buck one time. Buck gathered the two were best friends.

Living in a station full of ghosts did have a bit of a learning curve to it. Aside from that one spot behind the ambulance, there were a couple of other cold spots that always manifested in the same places, and a couple that moved around. There were odd noises, especially whispering, some of which Buck could make sense of, and some of which were fully unintelligible. Objects would move seemingly by themselves, and the TV channels would change — though if Buck simply asked who was there, a ghost would usually appear with a sheepish smile and the remote. The ghosts could still communicate with each other when Buck couldn’t hear or see them, and sometimes it even seemed like they had some kind of mass communication throughout the station. Buck was told the building was so steeped in ghostly energy that it had a sort of psychic network.

Then there was the door to the captain’s office. Even without Bobby’s warning, Buck wouldn’t have wanted to go in. It radiated sinister energies, to the point where Buck would nearly press himself to the opposite wall every time he went past it.

But despite all the strange things about station 118, Buck quickly found himself enjoying his new life and new job. Against all odds, this desperate bid to continue being a firefighter might just work out.

⁂

About two months in, Buck was looking through a supply closet for some supplies Red had asked him to fetch. As they weren’t in the place he had expected them to be, he decided to try another closet on the second floor — one he’d never been in before.

As soon as the door was open, Buck realised it would be absolutely impossible to store anything in here. The inside of the closet was — well — raining. Big, fat drops coalesced on the ceiling, falling to the ground in a sparse, gentle shower. The shelves were bare and swollen with damp, while the floor was slick, water pooling in shallow divots in the concrete and draining draining into cracks around the edges.

Even when Buck pulled the cord on the bulb dangling from the ceiling, the space was dim and gloomy. But it wasn’t just a lack of light. It was more like a heavy, visceral… sadness. Like it wasn’t rain that was running down Buck’s wrist, but tears.

At the back of a shelf, something caught the light and gleamed. When Buck leaned into the closet as far as he could reach, he saw a cracked mirror propped up against the back of the shelf.

As he looked into the mirror, his heart stopped. It wasn’t his face he saw there, but Eddie’s.

Eddie eyes were red rimmed, whether with sadness or exhaustion, Buck couldn’t tell — maybe both. But as Buck studied him, Eddie looked up. Their gazes met. Immediately, Eddie’s eyes flashed with supernaturally strong anger, his face twisting into a mask of fury.

— What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here!

Buck reeled backwards, slamming the closet door shut. Pure adrenaline sent him dashing down the hall, until he forced himself to slow and stop.

“Jesus,” Buck muttered, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself. He looked around and wondered if anyone had seen him getting his ass kicked out of Eddie’s closet like an idiot.

For several hours, Buck thought that either no one had been paying attention, or everyone was politely ignoring his gaffe. But that evening after dinner, Bobby said, “Buck, I need to talk to you.”

And Buck knew he was in trouble.

⁂

As soon as the last ghost had faded from sight, Buck stood up from the table and said, “I’m so sorry, Cap. I didn’t know that closet was Eddie’s. I — I wasn’t trying to break your rules or disrespect anyone. It was an accident, I swear.”

“Buck,” Bobby said, cutting Buck off as he walked over from the counter area. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Eddie was out of line.”

“What,” Buck said, suddenly wrong-footed.

“That closet doesn’t belong to Eddie, although we knew he was using it as a private space. This kitchen is my office, but anyone can use it, because it’s the only kitchen this station has. The closet is supposed to be like that too.”

“Oh,” Buck said. He blinked. “Well, I feel bad. I interrupted what I think was a kinda personal moment.”

The corners of Bobby’s eyes tightened. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t just a moment. Eddie is… we’re afraid he’s becoming an El Llorón.”

Oh, shit, Buck thought to himself. He knew a fair amount about different ghost types, because he’d found ghosts fascinating long before joining the 118. Most of the firefighters here were the most basic and common type of ghost, but Buck suspected there was at least one poltergeist around. Could it actually have been Eddie this whole time?

El Llorón was the male version of La Llorona. This ghost type was first identified in Latin America, hence the Spanish name. They were known for their grief for their lost children, which manifested as near-constant weeping. Although there was some misinformation from Spanish colonisers that this type of ghost was created only when a parent murdered a child, that was not the case. People who committed infanticide became Medea ghosts; El Llorón’s grief was due to an unjust separation, either by fate or by the actions of another human.

“Can I ask what happened to his family?” Buck said quietly.

Bobby hesitated, before saying carefully, “Eddie’s son was fairly young when Eddie died. He had a rough life, and became a father himself at a fairly young age. Several generations of Eddie’s family have had quite tragic lives, and sadly, Eddie blames himself. Last year his five-year-old great-grandson became orphaned and was placed in foster care, with no living relatives to care for him.”

“I… That’s terrible,” Buck said, heart hurting for Eddie a little.

“It is terrible. I feel for Eddie, of course. We all do. But I’m not letting him get territorial about that closet. It’ll do him more harm than good. Even if they’re hard to focus on, he has things to exist for outside of his grief.” Bobby’s words were heavy with the weight of some unspoken experience.

“If it’s all the same to you, I don’t think I wanna go in there again.”

“That’s your choice. But I’ve reprimanded him for his behaviour. Let me know if he does anything else out of line.”

“Thanks, Bobby,” Buck sighed. He appreciated Bobby not taking sides against him even though he was the outsider to the station. It showed how fair Bobby truly was. But there was no way in hell Buck was going to snitch on Eddie, no matter what else he did. Eddie was obviously going through enough.

⁂

“Hey, Buckaroo. What are you doing on the computer? I thought you hated this thing,” Hen said, appearing right behind Buck and peering curiously over his shoulder.

“Personal space?” Buck griped half-heartedly.

“Sure, sure. Why are you looking up lawyers?”

Buck snorted. “It’s not for me, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m trying to find one for Eddie.”

Hen coughed. “Excuse me? Why does Eddie need a lawyer? Who is he suing?”

At that, Buck laughed. “No one. He has this great-grandson —”

“Uh-huh, Christopher Diaz III.”

“— and he’s in foster care because he doesn’t have any living relatives. But he has a relative. He has Eddie! I know there are lawyers who help ghosts whose families are fighting over their wills. There must be someone who can help a ghost get custody of their grandkids when there are no living relatives.”

“No ghost is gonna be given custody of anyone. Most ghosts are more memories than people, and even fully ensouled types like us could pass on to the afterlife at any moment without warning. Not that we would, but no judge is just gonna take our word for it. And ghosts can’t own property, so they can’t fulfil a parent’s legal obligation to provide for a child,” Hen said with a wry twist of her lips.

“I noticed,” Buck said gloomily, having found out most of that through his research already. “But like, what if he wanted to give custody to someone else? They let people dictate custody in their wills, right? Ghosts count as their own wills in a lot of circumstances.”

“I think you’re overestimating the amount of living friends Eddie has,” Hen said, though she sounded sympathetic.

“Yeah, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Buck said, turning his attention back to the screen. “I don’t even know if the first part of this plan will work. So far, I’m striking out.”

“Hmm,” Hen hummed. “I can try and ask around.”

“No, wait — !” Buck exclaimed, but it was too late. Hen had already vanished.

Half an hour later, Buck was almost at the end of his allotted computer time, when he became aware of another nearby presence. Unlike Hen, this one lingered at the edges of Buck’s awareness, like the ghost was torn between materialising or vanishing. It stayed that way, fading mostly into the background, until the hour was up.

Finally, Buck closed out of his browser session and stood. As he got up from the chair, he found Eddie behind him, translucent but recognisable.

“Oh — oh. Hey, Eddie. Do you need to use the computer?” Buck said, even though he thought the schedule said it was supposed to be Ravi next.

Eddie looked at him for a moment, before he said, “No. Did you find anything?”

“Hen told you, huh?” Buck said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not yet, but I’m still looking. I signed up for three more computer times this week.”

“You really think this could work,” Eddie said sceptically.

“I don’t know. But we have to try something,” Buck said firmly. “Unless you — you don’t want —”

“I want to help him,” Eddie admitted, and though Buck didn’t know him well, he could still see the pain in his eyes. “I’m just trying to temper my expectations, here.”

“That’s fine. I have expectations enough for the both of us,” Buck said, and Eddie finally spluttered out a small laugh.

Really, Eddie shouldn’t have been worried. There were no lengths Buck wouldn’t go to to put that beautiful smile back on Eddie’s face.

⁂

“Eddie, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Buck said, as he escorted a woman into the station. She had tan skin and bouffant, curly brown hair, and wore a professional-looking suit skirt. Her necklace had a little gold ghost on it, and she was carrying a briefcase.

“This is Ms. Dollenmeyer. She’s an advocate for the dead,” Buck introduced her.

“Natalia, please,” Natalia said politely.

Eddie, who had appeared when Buck said his name, held out his hand. “Eddie Diaz, ma’am.”

Natalia’s eyebrows raised in surprise for a moment as she shook Eddie’s hand. Buck imagined it was because most of her clients were far less corporeal.

Buck and Eddie showed Natalia upstairs to the loft, where they sat down at the table in the TV area. Bobby was in the kitchen nearby making lunch, and Chimney and Hen were playing cards at one of the tables near the counter. They wouldn’t normally make themselves visible for any of this, but were being courteous for their human guest.

“Alright,” Natalia said, opening her briefcase and taking out a tablet and a digital pencil. “I heard you were concerned about one of your descendants. I obtained Christopher’s records from CPS, and it seems he truly has no living relatives. He also has a chronic health condition, Cerebral Palsy. As I know you’re aware —” thanks to Buck’s research binge “— there is plenty of precedent for a ghost dictating or influencing custody. If you don’t already have someone in mind who you’d like to have care for your great-grandson, there are a few options available to you.”

“Did he tell you I don’t? I do. I’d like Buck to be Christopher’s guardian,” Eddie said.

Immediately, Buck turned to Eddie with what he was sure was a panicked expression on his face. “Me? Eddie, you know I love kids, and I’d be totally willing to do it, but why me? Are you sure?”

Eddie looked straight at Buck as he said, “You’ve seen me. Really seen me. And you could’ve run away, but you didn’t.” He paused. “My orphaned little great-grandson is gonna need someone like that.”

When Eddie fell silent, neither of them could look away from the other. Buck swallowed, and Natalia cleared her throat.

“When you say he saw you —”

“El Llorón,” Eddie said gruffly. “Should resolve pretty quickly once I know my great-grandson is safe.”

“Actually, in this situation that will help your case. Specialising into a specific type of ghost is involuntary, so the emotions which cause it must be genuine. There won’t be much doubt that you have Christopher’s best interests at heart,” Natalia said, making a note. “Have you been officially classified?”

“No, but everyone at the station knows,” Eddie admitted. “Does this mean you think Buck has a shot at becoming Christopher’s guardian?”

“A legal guardian has limited custody so that parents can retain some rights to their child. Since Christopher doesn’t have parents, your options are fostering or adoption. If Buck fosters him, the state will retain legal custody but Buck will have physical custody. Adoption, of course, would be making Christopher Buck’s child in permanence.”

“Christopher deserves a forever home,” Eddie said, looking at Buck with longing in his eyes.

Although the idea had been proposed to him mere minutes before, Buck was being honest when he said, “I would love to adopt him.”

Did he think he’d be a single dad at the age of 28? No, but Buck had always wanted a family. And right now, his circumstances were the most stable they’d been since he was 19. He had a good job, an emotional support system in Bobby and his other coworkers, and he didn’t even have to pay rent. If this was what had to happen for Eddie to be near his great-grandson, Buck would do it.

Natalia smiled. “Great. CPS will run a background check on you, but assuming you have no record of child abuse, I don’t see a reason why this adoption shouldn’t proceed. A social worker will look over your place of residence, interview you, and write a report for the courts. But you don’t need to worry about that — fictive kin adoptions have relaxed standards compared to adoption or fostering by strangers.”

“Will it be a problem that I live here?” Buck said, gesturing around the fire station.

Natalia looked around the space — at Bobby, skilfully sautéing some vegetables, at Chim and Hen, laughing and chatting as they traded cards back and forth. “It looks alright to me. If anyone here is specialised into a ghost type classified as hostile, there might be an issue. Or, actually, what if the alarm rings? Would he be able to get a full night’s sleep?”

“Oh, I never hear it on my nights off.” Though now that Buck was saying that, he realised it was weird. If he had to guess, that was the building spirit helping him out, rather than some kind of conveniently variable soundproofing.

“Hmm. What about accessibility? Christopher’s condition affects his mobility.”

“We have an elevator,” Eddie said, pointing down the hall towards it. “Bobby took the opportunity to make the place accessible when he had the kitchen redone.”

“Can you put us in touch with like, a social worker or something? I don’t know what Christopher will need, and we could get it to him much faster if we had some resources,” Buck interjected.

“Christopher will have a social worker overseeing his family placement already. What I suspect you might need is a home care aide. My friend Carla might be available, and she’s one of the best when it comes to navigating the system,” Natalia said, again taking a few notes. “How are your financials? Christopher is overdue for one or two surgeries.”

Eddie and Buck exchanged a look. Buck could tell Eddie was sad at the thought of a kid so young needing surgery, but Buck was glad to know they could help fix something for Christopher. “He’ll have health insurance through me.”

“You could try and have the LAFD pay child support on my behalf,” Eddie added. “They’re not gonna give me a salary, but if a judge ordered it…”

Natalia blinked. “That’s an unorthodox approach, but very clever. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but I’ll research possibilities.”

“It sounds like we could really do this,” Buck said hopefully.

“I think so too, Buck,” Natalia said, and smiled.

⁂

Buck tried not to be nervous as he parked his car at the social worker’s office. Aw, hell, who was he kidding? He was here to take home the kid who would be his family for the rest of his life, and maybe even beyond it. Of course he was nervous.

It had been a longer-than-average process to get Buck’s adoption of Christopher approved, due more to the circumstances around his living situation than anything else. But with his four months of pre-probation long over, and Buck well on his way to earning his shield, Buck was confident he could do this. He’d straightened up and gotten it together when he realised he needed to for his job — and he could do it again for this kid.

He took the elevator up to the third floor and walked down the hall. Arriving at the right door, Buck knocked. Moments later, the social worker opened it, revealing an absolutely adorable little boy in red glasses sitting in a low chair at a child-sized table in front of her desk.

It took everything in Buck not to beeline straight for Christopher. Instead he approached more slowly, kneeling down so he’d be able to look the little boy in the eye.

“Hi, Christopher. I’m Buck. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hi, Buck. Do you like dogs?”

Buck smiled, a swell of emotion rising through his chest. “Yeah, buddy. I love dogs. Are they your favourite animal?”

“I don’t know yet. I don’t know all the animals,” Christopher said. His small, sweet voice was going to be the death of Buck. “I went to the zoo once but never the aquarium.”

“We can go there,” Buck promised.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Just then, the social worker stepped politely into Buck’s field of vision. Buck stood, and she handed him some paperwork and a trash bag which presumably contained Christopher’s things. It rankled on Buck that they didn’t even bother to give Christopher a real bag, but since this was the last trash bag Christopher’s things would ever see, he let it go.

After Buck took care of the paperwork, he led Christopher down to the parking lot, where he lifted him up into the car seat and buckled him in.

“You hungry?” Buck said.

“A little,” Christopher said, making a so-so gesture with one hand.

“Yeah? Me too. What do you like?”

“I like grilled cheese.” Christopher sounded a little dubious. Buck couldn’t think of a fast food restaurant that served grilled cheeses — maybe Wendy’s? — but most diners seemed to have them on their kids’ menus.

“Okay. We’ll go find some grilled cheese, and then we’ll go home. Sound good?”

Christopher wrinkled his nose. “I don’t have a home. Are we going to yours?”

Buck had to take a deep breath to push down his feelings again. “Christopher,” he said softly. “My home is your home now. I have — I’m adopting you. That means I’m gonna take care of you for the rest of your life. I’m gonna protect you. I’m gonna make sure you have everything you need. And I’m gonna love you, every day, because that’s what family does, and we’re family forever, I promise. Okay?”

Buck wanted his relationship with Christopher to be as different as possible from the one he had with his parents. He didn’t know if Christopher believed him when he made all those promises, but he wanted to speak them into reality anyway. He would tell Christopher all those things as many times as he needed to hear them.

“And what do I hafta do?” Chris said, frowning.

“Nothing. You just have to be a kid,” Buck said firmly.

“But I want to do something, ‘cause you’re so nice.”

Buck thought for a moment. “Just talk to me, okay? I want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Okay. I can do that,” Christopher said easily.

Buck wanted very much to ruffle Christopher’s hair, but didn’t want to startle him. They had only just met, after all. So instead he gave Christopher a warm smile. “Good,” he said, and finally closed the door and got into the driver’s seat.

After a short trip, they wound up at a nice diner with an outdoor seating area. This was ideal, because Buck didn’t want the other customers inside to overhear his conversation with Christopher. After their food arrived — Buck got one of those burgers with an egg on top — Buck turned to Christopher and said, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I don’t live in a house. Can you guess where I live?”

Christopher thought. “Hmm… An apartment?”

“Nope.”

“Um… a houseboat!” Christopher giggled.

“Good guess, but no.”

“In your car?”

“No.”

“I don’t know! Tell me!”

Buck grinned. “I live in a fire station.”

Christopher gasped. “You’re a firefighter? Can I be one too?”

Buck spluttered out a laugh. “Sorry, bud, but you’re too young. We can’t hire you without breaking a ton of labour laws.”

“I could just do it for fun.”

Buck suppressed another laugh. “You have more important things to do. Like go to school, make friends, play games, watch TV… I dunno, whatever kids do these days.”

“But — okay,” Christopher sighed.

“Have you ever met a ghost before?” Buck said, knowing the subject change was a bit abrupt, but unsure of how else to bring this up.

“I don’t know. Maybe. There was this voice at one house I lived at, but the people said it wasn’t real.”

“It might have been real. Some ghosts are just voices. But, some ghosts look the same as living people. Did you know that?”

Christopher nodded as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“There are some ghosts living at our fire station. A lot of ghosts, actually. The other firefighters. They’re really nice. They’re my friends.”

“Okay,” Christopher said easily.

Buck continued, “There’s one ghost in particular that I want you to meet. His name is Eddie, and he’s your great-grandpa. He’s the one who asked me to take care of you.”

Christopher frowned. “How many dads is that?”

Buck felt like he should be doing math on his fingers. “He’s your grandpa’s dad. Your dad’s dad’s dad,” he said after a moment.

“He must be really old.”

“He’s a little old. But he doesn’t look old.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll just have to take my word for it until you meet him,” Buck said. Christopher made a disgruntled noise and went back to his fries.

After lunch, they made the short drive back to the fire station. Buck knew that Eddie was waiting for them, but wasn’t sure where in the station he’d be, or if he’d be corporeal.

But as Buck and Christopher walked through the front door, Buck carrying Christopher’s things over one shoulder, they saw Eddie leaning against the ladder truck’s front bumper. As they approached, Buck noticed how Eddie’s expression suddenly froze. How he became ever so slightly translucent, flickering in and out of full opacity as he tried to get a hold over his manifestation.

“Wow, a real fire truck!” Christopher said. Buck grinned and shot Eddie a wink over Christopher’s head.

“Yeah, a real ladder truck! We can have a look at it in a minute,” Buck said. “First, let’s go say hi to your Great-Grandpa Eddie.”

“Bisabuelo would be good,” Eddie said shyly.

“Bisa — bisa —” Christopher tried, frowning.

“Abuelo,” Eddie encouraged him. Christopher’s frown deepened, and Eddie said, “It’s okay, Christopher. You can call me anything you want.”

Christopher hesitated, then mumbled, “Okay.” Buck wanted to know what he was thinking, but didn’t want to press Christopher too hard. He imagined this day had already been pretty big and overwhelming for such a small person.

“You want to see the ladder truck, now, buddy?” Buck said, thinking the next thing to do after that would be to have a nap.

“Really?” Christopher said hopefully, as if he had expected Buck to change his mind.

“Really,” Buck said.

⁂

Christopher was pleased with the ladder truck (of course). Afterwards, Buck and Eddie took him to Buck’s bunk room, which the 118 had made some modifications to. Firstly, Buck had swapped his things onto the top bunk and moved down to the bottom; Christopher couldn’t climb up to the top and Buck wanted to be available at night if need be. They’d also disassembled the central bunk, setting up several folding screens in its place to effectively partition the space into two smaller rooms.

It wasn’t the best solution, but it would give Buck and Christopher privacy enough for now. Despite what they’d said to Natalia, Buck and Eddie didn’t know if the fire station really could be a long-term home for Christopher, even if Buck got his shield and stayed on permanently. But all the ghosts of the 118 needed to stay near the station or its vehicles in order to maintain the ability to become fully corporeal, so it wouldn’t be possible for Eddie to live anywhere else. For that reason, Buck was really hoping this would work out long enough that figuring out a more permanent bedroom situation for Christopher made sense.

Buck helped Christopher take his few possessions out of the garbage bag and arrange them to his liking. They had gotten a trunk for his things, and of course his top bunk could also be used for storage. All of his clothes went in the locker, as well as the one book he owned, but he wanted his teddy bear put down on his pillow. It hurt Buck’s heart that Christopher had so few reminders of his deceased parents — of Eddie’s grandson. Especially because Buck knew what it felt like to leave all your childhood possessions behind and live out of a bag. It must have been even harder for Christopher, because it hadn’t been his choice the way it had been Buck’s.

When Christopher was settled, Buck put him down for a nap. He must have been pretty worn out, because he went to sleep in minutes. Buck sat on his bunk and looked at Christopher through the half-open curtain. He was so small and delicate. Yet he was a real, breathing child.

Buck had half expected to fall in love with Christopher on sight, given that he loved kids in general, and this one was already special to him. But he hadn’t been prepared for how overwhelming it would all be. Christopher was his. The most important and valuable thing Buck had ever been given responsibility for. And that changed everything.

Buck had to force himself to breathe, and wiped at his eyes with one hand.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Quietly, Buck got up and opened it to find Eddie on the other side.

Eddie took one look at Buck and said, “I’m pretty sure I was making that face in the hospital after my son was born.”

Buck chuckled wetly. “Yeah, it… it’s a lot.”

Gently, Eddie said, “I know.”

Buck cleared his throat. “I mean. He’s more yours than mine, but…”

Something in Eddie’s face shuttered. “No, Buck. I might be his blood, but legally, he’s yours.”

“The only thing, and I mean the only thing, that would make me take him away from the you, is if he were suffering from living here. And even then, I would try and make it work however I could. I mean it, Eddie. I — I’m not — I couldn’t break up a family that actually loves each other. I’m not like that.” Buck grabbed Eddie’s upper arms as he spoke, willing him to understand.

Eddie looked away, letting out a frustrated breath. “The entire station is betting on how long it will take you to find another date, and how fast you’ll move out after that.”

Buck winced. After the whole thing where he’d gotten fired for stealing a ladder truck for a hook up, he’d quit having sex with anyone. Some days, it was physically painful that no one was touching him. But it was that or lose the only things he had which mattered — his job, his purpose, and his friends at the 118. Sometimes their platonic affection was enough. Buck could only hope he’d learn to live on that alone.

“Guess I’m only dating firefighters from now on, so they can live here too,” Buck said, trying to sound sure. “Or, y’know. No one. That’s fine too. Christopher comes first, no matter what.”

Eddie studied Buck’s face for a moment. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good,” Buck said, feeling like he was back on solid ground. Letting go of Eddie, he admitted, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I promised him all this stuff, and I meant it, but I’m just making it all up as I go along. I really hope you know more about this parenting thing than I do.”

“Promised him what?” Eddie raised an eyebrow.

“You know. That I’d take care of him and protect him and stuff.”

Eddie’s eyes softened. “Yeah. Okay. I can help you with that.” He shook his head and said quietly, “He looks so much like my son.”

“Did your son have CP too?” Buck said, curious.

“No. But he did have the glasses.”

A quiet noise came from the room behind them, and Buck whirled around. But it was just Christopher sighing in his sleep. When Buck looked back at Eddie, he caught a moment of naked longing on Eddie’s face. But Eddie blinked, and it was gone in an instant.

“Hey…” Buck said, and Eddie looked at him sharply. But Buck only smiled. “Want to come sit with me?”

“I — Ghosts aren’t allowed in your room,” Eddie half stammered.

“I’d say there’s an exception for family,” Buck said, taking Eddie’s wrist. Eddie startled, but let Buck lead him inside. Buck couldn’t help but gently swipe his thumb over the soft skin of Eddie’s inner wrist before letting go.

Not saying a word, he patted the bed beside him as he sat down. Eddie only hesitated a moment before sitting at Buck’s side. Together, they watched the miracle that was Christopher snooze away in peaceful silence.

⁂

It didn’t take long before Christopher had twice as many possessions to his name, a lovely home aide named Carla — who wasn’t phased by the haunted fire station of it all — and a house full of ghosts ready to attend to his every need. Although Buck and Eddie had both been worried Christopher might be scared by the supernatural parts of the fire station, he’d adjusted well thanks to his positive temperament and the calm they modelled when something unexpected happened. Now he shrieked and laughed when he stepped through a cold spot, batting at the air and telling it to stop being silly. If he ever needed help with something and Buck or Carla was occupied, he would politely ask the air if it could help him, and inevitably someone would materialise to do just that.

Buck could tell he had been through more than a little kid should, with the loss of his family and subsequent year-long lack of a stable home. He was quiet sometimes when he shouldn’t be, a little insecure about his place in Buck and Eddie’s lives. But he was such a beautiful, brave little spirit. Buck was so honoured to know him, let alone get to be his parent.

One morning, Buck was awoken from sleep by a quiet cry. His eyes instantly flew open, and he rolled over as fast as he could, already preparing to spring out of bed. But in the glow of Christopher’s nightlight, he saw the situation was already being taken care of. Eddie was sitting on the bed, holding Christopher and stroking his hair.

Buck’s shoulders slumped with relief. Just a bad dream, then. As Buck’s heart rate began to calm, he noticed how Eddie held Christopher so effortlessly. How Christopher looked so trusting and calm. It was really beautiful, but also a bit unexpected. Eddie had never manifested much outside of the calls they went on, and even now he still was only rarely visible. But given how comfortable Christopher looked, they had to have been building a relationship somehow anyway.

Eventually, Eddie glanced over at Buck’s bunk. When they made eye contact, Buck gave him a tired little smile. To Buck’s dismay, Eddie didn’t respond in kind. Instead, he gently slipped the now-sleeping Christopher from his lap and vanished.

Checking the phone he had plugged in next to the bed, Buck saw that it was about an hour until he had to get up. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he rolled over and went back to sleep.

After going about their morning routine, Buck and Christopher hopped in the car. As they drove to Christopher’s kindergarten, Buck decided to indulge his curiosity. He said, “Did you have a bad dream last night?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“What was it about?”

“There was a train that ran into a mountain and exploded. And Mommy and Daddy were on it.”

It wasn’t the first nightmare Christopher had reported about the death of his parents, but they hurt Buck’s heart every time. Since Christopher hadn’t witnessed their drunken car crash in person — thank god — his subconscious had a tendency to come up with strange scenarios about it.

“Aw, buddy, I’m so sorry,” Buck said. As they stopped at a light, he reached into the backseat and gave Christopher’s knee a comforting pat. “It’s a good thing Bisabuelo was there to tell you it was just a dream, right?”

“He’s always there when I have a bad dream.”

“He is? But invisible?” Buck said, thinking to himself how wild that question would be in any other context.

“Yeah. He sits on the bed cause I asked him too. I like it when I know he’s there.”

Thinking about Eddie being the silent protector of Chris’s dreams was making Buck feel a little choked up. He used to sleep in Maddie’s bed when he was hurt or scared as a child, and he still remembered how safe he felt snuggled up beside her like two kittens in a litter. It was obvious how much she loved him then. He was so grateful that Christopher knew that same sense of love from Eddie.

“That’s ‘cause he’s a good guy, and he cares about you a lot,” Buck said, clearing his throat.

“I know that!” Christopher said as if Buck were being silly. “I like him too. When he’s there but I can’t see him, my heart feels all warm. But he doesn’t talk much.”

“I think he’s a little shy,” Buck said fondly.

“I told him he can let people see him, but he said he it was better if he doesn’t. What did he mean?”

“Uh —” Buck said, startled. “I don’t know. But don’t worry. I’ll talk to him.”

Shit, he thought to himself. He had hoped that Eddie knew Buck would never take Christopher away from him, but was starting to think Eddie needed more than just his word. As far as Buck was concerned, Eddie was Christopher’s second parent. He wasn’t sure what to do yet to show Eddie how important he was, but he knew this much — he had to do something.

⁂

“Hey, Eddie,” Buck called cheerfully as he entered the station a few days later. He drew the name out as he repeated it. “Eddieee!”

It took a few seconds, but Eddie materialised at the base of the loft stairs. “What’s up? Christopher’s upstairs with Bobby, Chimney, and Kevin.”

Buck jogged over to the staircase. “Awesome, yeah, I’ll see him in a sec. You’ll never guess where I’ve just been.”

“You went to see a girl?” Eddie guessed, unamused.

“Technically, yeah! But not like that.”

Eddie snorted a laugh. “Okay, fine. I don’t know. You…”

But before he could make a real guess, they heard Christopher loudly saying, “But I don’t wanna!”

Eddie and Buck exchanged a glance, and Eddie vanished.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Eddie,” Buck muttered, more amused than annoyed, as he jogged up the stairs.

“I don’t wanna call him Uncle Buck. He’s not my uncle.”

“It was a just a suggestion, little man,” Chimney was saying. “We can’t figure out who you’re talking about half the time. You can’t keep calling him ‘not Bisabuelo’.”

Buck winced. He had noticed Christopher never addressed Buck as anything if he could help it, and he addressed Eddie sparingly.

“But…” Christopher started, biting his lip.

“Hey, Chris!” Buck said brightly as he walked into the kitchen area. As soon as he saw him, Christopher wiggled off of his chair and ran over to Buck, who picked him up with a playful bounce. “What’s going on here?”

Christopher buried his face in Buck’s neck. “I don’t want to call Bisabuelo Bisabuelo anymore.”

“You can call either of us anything you want, remember?” Buck said reassuringly.

“Okay,” Christopher said, pulling his face out of Buck’s neck. “Then he’s Dead Dad, and you’re Alive Dad.”

It should’ve been funny, but Buck instantly froze. “Uh, Eddie,” he said nervously, glancing around the room. Chimney looked shocked, Bobby amused, and Kevin only fond. Bobby cleared his throat, and all three ghosts vanished, though the bread on the cutting board continued slicing itself.

To Buck’s relief Eddie appeared, leaning against the counter. “You want to call us your dads?” Eddie asked Christopher in a gentle voice.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you are.” Christopher’s tone was a little more emphatic than it needed to be, and Buck could tell he was scared that they would disagree.

“You can’t call us both dad. It would get confusing,” Buck said, trying to give Eddie an out if he needed one.

“Maybe he can be dad in Spanish?” Christopher pointed at Eddie uncertainly.

“Papá,” Eddie said quietly. His eyes were like dark pools.

“Dad and Papá, okay?” Christopher mumbled, his posture curling inward.

“That’s fine with me if it is with Eddie,” Buck said, looking at Eddie again.

Eddie let out a breath. “Of course, kid.”

“Really? Yay!” Christopher squeezed Buck’s neck in excitement.

“You’re choking me,” Buck rasped playfully, throwing his head back and sticking his tongue out for effect. Christopher relaxed his grip, but bounced excitedly in Buck’s arms.

After that, Buck felt like he was floating for the rest of the afternoon. He couldn’t believe Christopher thought of him not just as a guardian, but a real parent. If he could wrap his head around it, it would make him want to sing.

But at the same time, he couldn’t forget that look in Eddie’s eyes when Christopher suggested calling him Papá. So, after Christopher went to bed that night, Buck quietly said into the dark room, “Eddie?”

It took a moment, but Eddie appeared, sitting at the foot of Christopher’s bed. Buck beckoned to him, and the two went out into the hallway, shutting the door behind them.

“Hey,” Buck said awkwardly. “You seemed a little uncomfortable earlier. Are you really okay with Christopher calling you his dad?”

“It’s what he wants,” Eddie said gruffly.

“Are you sure? If you’re worried about dishonouring your son’s memory, or —”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie interrupted. “It just feels like promising him something I can’t promise.”

“Eddie… you’re already dead. You’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie opened his mouth, eyes flashing angrily, and Buck hastily added, “And neither am I, okay? I was trying to tell you earlier, but the person I went to see this afternoon was Natalia. I was hoping there’d be something I could sign, like an agreement to make sure you can always see Christopher if you want to. She said a ghost and a human can’t enter into a legal contract, but we could still sign one, like, symbolically. Or, since the LAFD is paying your child support, I could add a clause to my employment contract saying I have to bring Christopher to the station a certain amount of times per week if I move out for some reason. Is that — should we — do you want —”

“You would do that,” Eddie said, sounding absolutely stunned, “for me?”

“Why is that so weird to you?”

“I’m dead. What I want doesn’t matter anymore.”

“It does to me,” Buck said simply.

For the first time, Buck saw tears in Eddie’s eyes. He cleared his throat, then did it a few more times, blinking rapidly. Finally, he said, “I don’t want you more beholden to our employer, Buck. Don’t worry about anything legal. The fact that you would do it is enough.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Natalia to make the symbolic one for us to sign.”

“You don’t have to,” Eddie said hoarsely.

Buck gave a little chuckle. “Honestly? It’s for me too. I — I feel like we’re making a family here. And I want to keep it.”

At that, Eddie smiled. “Yeah,” he said, just a little too fondly.

Buck cleared his throat. “Well, glad we got that figured out. Although you know what…” He winced. “Is it gonna bother you if people assume Christopher has two dads because we’re together?”

Eddie actually laughed. “Do you remember Bobby’s rule number five?”

“No bigotry?”

“Yeah, man. You’re not the only one who has days off in June. So do I.” Eddie smiled. He disappeared, and when he reappeared again, he had gay pride colours painted on each cheek and glitter in his hair. Buck was used to the ghosts changing their appearances as needed, but this manifestation of Eddie’s stopped him in his tracks. It was the most beautiful one he’d ever seen, and he’d seen Eddie covered in sweat and soot after a successful house fire rescue.

“Wow. I wish I could do that,” Buck said breathlessly.

Eddie’s smile grew wider and fonder. “Best thing about the 2010s. I like that people might assume I have a son with some guy. Even if we’re not really together.”

Buck took a deep breath. “You know… we could be.”

Eddie gave him a funny look. “Buck.”

“Yeah, okay, sorry,” Buck said, giving an awkward half shrug.

“No, wait. Are you seriously suggesting you would date a ghost?”

“Why not?” Buck said defensively. “You’re still a person.”

“Most ghosts aren’t.”

“But you are. Everyone here is.”

Eddie stared at him for a moment. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled and showering glitter on the floor. He hesitated, silently opening his mouth a few times. Finally, he got out, “You’re such a troublemaker. I feel like I’ve been living in a funhouse ever since you showed up.”

Buck snorted a laugh. Eddie continued, “You know what? Fine.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel pressured because I have custody of Chris. I just really like you, Ed—”

Grabbing Buck’s collar, Eddie pulled Buck towards him and kissed him. It was a firm but chaste kiss. Still, Buck was flushed and dizzy by the time Eddie let him go.

Eddie smirked at the stunned look on Buck’s face. “I like you too,” he said.

⁂

A few weeks later, Buck and Christopher were playing hide and seek. After unsuccessfully looking for Christopher for ten minutes, Buck was getting worried.

Eddie didn’t materialise, but Buck heard his voice in his ear the third time he walked through the lounge. “He’s okay. He’s in the closet at the end of the hall. Ravi helped him open the door.”

“Thanks, baby,” Buck said, relieved.

“Just don’t tell him I helped you cheat.”

Buck chuckled, and felt a soft kiss against his temple. He smiled at the air for a moment before shaking himself and heading down the hall.

“Christopher! Christopher!” he called dramatically. “Where are you? I know I looked here before. Wait! I think I missed this door. Hmm…” When he fell silent, he heard tiny, muffled giggles.

Buck threw open the door. There was Christopher, sitting on the floor and beaming up at him.

“There you are!” Buck said, picking Christopher up and tickling him. Christopher laughed and squirmed. “I win!” Buck declared.

As he was setting Christopher back on his feet, he glanced around the closet and had a sudden realisation. This was the closet that used to be Eddie’s.

It was totally different now. The shelves were no longer warped and swollen from damp, but were dry and well-kept. Someone had even stocked them with supplies again, restoring the space to its original functionality. It seemed like all traces of Eddie weeping here to hide his grief were gone.

All of them, except for the cracked mirror at the back of one shelf. For a moment, Buck was worried. Then he saw what flanked the mirror on either side. There was the envelope with the agreement he and Eddie had signed, for Buck to make sure Eddie would always be present in his great-grandson’s life. On the other side was a photo of Buck, Chris, and Eddie — together, a family.