it's gonna be alright (piece by piece) - torturedslothdepartment (2024)

Chapter 1: every minute, it makes me weaker

Chapter Text

The first time it happens, they’re coming back after a rescue. Evan doesn’t think much of it at the time, because he’d just repelled down the side of a cliff to get kids out of a car that had gone over the side. In the aftermath in the truck on the drive back, his chest starts to hurt, but he figures he’s just strained something, and so he ignores it. Even though it comes on sharp, it seems to ebb away after a while, when he’s calming down.

Eddie asks if he’s okay at the time, and because he’s entirely unworried about it, he says yes. He probably just pulled something. The pain goes away, and he doesn’t worry any further on it.

It happens again, more than once. Following an org*sm, where he writes it off as being too animated in bed and figures he just needs to take it easier.

After a morning run, which he’d pushed further than he normally does.

After a tough save on a pile-up which had stressed him more mentally and emotionally than physically.

And then, even without telling anyone, it happens more frequently, not needing the aid of physical stress to come on anymore. It happens as he’s reaching into the kitchen cabinet to get coffee cups for himself and Tommy.

As he’s bringing groceries in from their latest stock-up on food.

As he’s pulling a tray out of the oven and nearly drops the dish at the 118.

The last time before he finds out, he’s in bed with Tommy. They’re going at it, admittedly a bit rough, Tommy behind him, holding him up by his hands on his chest as he thrusts. And Evan is having a great time, really. There’s nothing that compares to the level of blissed out that he gets when they’re in bed together, especially when Tommy’s hands are all over him. Plus, when they’re like this, his fiancé railing into him and holding him close, his org*sms come on like a freight train. Which is exactly what happens. One second he’s f*cked out, completely awash in a state of pleasure, and the next, it’s as though a ton of bricks has come down on him, pain suddenly exploding across his chest towards his shoulders, up his neck, into his jaw. It’s so sudden that it steals his breath, and instead of lying in bed together on the comedown, enjoying the aftershocks, the reaction sends Tommy into a panic as he realizes not only that Evan is in pain, but that he can’t breathe.

“We need to call 9-1-1,” Tommy states in a rushed tone, already yanking his pants back on from where they were abandoned on the floor only twenty minutes before.

“No,” Evan rasps, reaching a hand out for him. He’s still naked on the bed, curled over, hand on his chest. “I-…” He forces a breath out, reaches out for Tommy’s hand. “I can…I can get up.”

Tommy’s jaw locks at him, shaking his head. “Evan-..”

“Please,” Evan begs him, managing to push himself into a seated position, though it takes valiant effort. “Just- help me get dressed.”

Tommy stares at him with a hard expression as he perches on the side of the bed in front of Evan, already holding his pants and briefs in his hands.

“Chest pain is not a joke, Evan,” Tommy remarks, anger clear in his voice, though Evan knows well enough that it’s from panic more than he’s actually mad at him.

“Didn’t say it was, Tom,” he rasps as his fiancé slides his jeans up his calves and then reaches for Evan's forearms to help him stand so that he can pull his pants back on.

Less than ten minutes later, they’re both fully dressed, out the door, and in Tommy’s truck, on the way to the nearest hospital. Neither of them talks on the drive. Tommy has known for a minute that something has been affecting Evan, but the blonde has always brushed it off, never overly concerned. Still, as the older man sits next to him in the vehicle, and then inside an emergency room patient bay, the anxiety is obvious. As it is, they spend no time in the waiting room, because when you tell hospital staff that you’re having chest pain and shortness of breath, they take that sh*t seriously.

Evan gulps, squeezing Tommy’s hand as the older man sits beside him in a chair next to the gurney.

“Breathe,” Tommy reminds him, squeezing back, as though his own throat isn’t tight.

“Th-they said there’s some-something wrong with my-my heartbeat,” Evan stammers. His eyes are flitting around the room, never landing on anything for more than four seconds because he’s fully panicked.

Tommy stands then, moving in front of Evan, placing both hands on either side of his neck.

“And they’re going to figure it out,” Tommy reminds him, making the blonde look up at him. He forces down his own deep breath, knowing he’s not necessarily any more calm than Evan is, and doing so seems to encourage him to do the same.

The doctors return some ten minutes later, announcing that they’ve gotten him into the line for a rushed CT order, and then handing over a hospital gown for him to change into. Tommy helps him then, undressing Evan mostly because the blonde is too mentally numbed by the fact that they’re sending him for imaging to be able to think about what’s happening in that moment. He just goes with the motions as Tommy slides his shirt over his head, stands him up and removes his jeans, folding both and setting them on a chair nearby. And then he’s back up on a gurney, waiting as Tommy stands beside him, still holding his hand, trying to keep him calm.

“I-I, I should-should probably call-call Maddie,” he stammers out, staring at the wall. “Sh-she should be-be here.”

“I’ll call her,” Tommy tells him, hand stroking down over his cheek. Evan looks up at him, tears in his eyes. Tommy inhales a deep breath and perches on the side of the bed, holding Evan’s face again. “Hey. We don't know anything yet. So let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“My heartbeat isn’t normal,” Evan reminds him, his voice strained. “Tommy-..”

“And the doctors are going to figure it out,” Tommy counters. “Let them figure it out.”

Evan doesn't get the chance to argue back. A nurse returns to the room to administer an IV line so they can give him contrast, and then they wheel him out of the room, letting Tommy know they’ll be back soon.

When he’s brought back less than ten minutes later, Tommy is still on the phone with Maddie. He reaches his free hand out for Evan’s, and the blonde takes it before looking up at the phone screen where Tommy has Maddie on FaceTime. She looks both scared and a little pissed.

“Evan. Why wouldn’t you say something about all of this,” she asks, as though they haven’t had this same discussion before. As though she hasn’t questioned him on why he wouldn’t be open about a possible medical issue. As though his health shouldn't be his priority above his life and job.

He opens his mouth to respond, but there are no words because he doesn’t have any. He has no justification for what’s taken place. Maddie sighs, shaking her head in view of the camera, but she doesn’t yell. She shifts subjects instead then, tries to distract her brother from his clear anxiety about the heaviness hanging over them.

She's just barely gotten both him and Tommy to crack some semblance of a smile when the doctor walks back in. It’s only been a few minutes, which can’t be good. The look on the doctor’s face isn’t comforting either.

“Mr. Buckley,” the woman asks as she steps inside the room.

Evan looks up from Tommy’s phone, nodding.

“I'm Doctor Callahan," she states. “I’m a cardiologist. I’m here to talk to you about your CT.”

Evan blinks hard, gulping at the fact that they’ve sent a heart doctor to talk to him. He glances down at the phone, realizes she’s probably waiting for him to hang up.

“Uh-um, it-it’s my-my sister,” he stammers. “She-she can-can hear whatever it is.”

Dr. Callahan nods. She grabs the rolling stool from its space under the counter and slides over to the bed where both Evan and Tommy can see the tablet in her hands.

“Your CT was concerning,” she states, clicking through apps to find he imaging. “We weren’t entirely sure what we were looking for because chest pain and shortness of breath can be indicative of a number of things.”

She opens up the imaging on the tablet and then adjusts it so that they can see it better. Tommy takes his phone back from Evan and flips the camera so that Maddie is able to see it as well.

“Oh god,” Maddie murmurs from her end, all too aware of medical testing from her time as a nurse.

“What?” Evan asks, panic rising. His doctor takes a breath, gesturing the pen in her hand towards an area on the scan.

“This little bubble here,” she explains. “Is an aortic aneurysm.”

Evan's blood floods out of his body at those words. The world goes silent, and he can’t hear anything she's saying, even as she keeps talking, even as Tommy squeezes his hand, asks all the questions. Even as Maddie comes up with her own, asking things more pertinent to Evan’s medical treatment, both immediate and what will come in the next few days and weeks. All he can hear is the sound of his heartbeat, all to aware of the ticking bomb now in his chest.

“This isn’t great news by any means,” Dr. Callahan says after answering multiple questions from Maddie and Tommy. “But it's good that we caught it when we did because it’s still treatable.”

“I-I, I’m a firefighter,” Evan stammers. “D-did that… is that why?”

Dr. Callahan settles the tablet on her lap and folds her hands. “There are any number of reasons aneurysms develop, but smoke inhalation is a factor, yes. There are an increased number of firefighters who have ended up with them. But hear me when I say this, Mr. Buckley-..”

“Please, just call me Evan right now,” he chokes out. The costume of Buck feels too informal for the fact that they’re discussing his ability to live.

“Evan,” she responds. “This is treatable. We’re going to make some calls, and get you scheduled for surgery. Yes, it’s serious, but we can do something about it. You’re in good hands.”

“S-so it…” He clenches his jaw, tears flooding his water line. “It won’t kill me?”

“It is serious,” Dr. Callahan replies. “But I feel comfortable in stating that we’ve caught it early enough, and with enough time for surgery that you should be fine. So no, this won’t kill you.”

Evan lets out a sob then, one he wasn’t aware he was holding back. Tommy stands and pulls him in, presses his lips to Evan’s birthmark as the blonde cries into his shirt, Maddie left staring at the ceiling from the phone being abandoned on the bed.

“Buck? You okay, buddy?”

Tommy picks up the phone as he settles on the edge of the bed next to Evan.

“I don't know, Chim,” he replies hoarsely. “I guess?”

An hour later, Evan has been moved to a patient room on a different floor and Tommy is pacing the floor on his phone, occasionally tugging on the sleeves of his sweater as he huffs.

“What’re you doing,” Evan asks, twitching from his spot in the bed. He’s restless and he’s supposed to be staying calm, but he’s so utterly terrified by everything at the moment that settling down is feeling a little out of hand.

“Trying to figure out how FMLA works when it’s not for me,” Tommy replies. “I mean I can call my captain, but I’m more concerned about the here and now of things.”

Evan sighs, reaches his hand out for Tommy. Tommy’s expression shifts, less focused on his phone and more concerned as he crosses the room and sits on the side of the bed, holding Evan’s hand.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Tommy tells him, stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. “I know it’s a lot.”

Evan nods, staring down at the blanket.

“Can I ask,” Tommy queries a moment later. Evan glances back up at him. “Why didn’t you say anything, Evan?”

Evan gulps then, inhales a deep breath.

“I mean, the first time, I thought I just pulled something,” he states softly. “And then when it happened again, I thought maybe I was just overdoing it, that I just needed to dial back on stuff.”

“But?” Tommy asks.

Evan shakes his head, shame crossing his face. “I got scared.”

Tommy sighs then, moving forward on the bed and cupping Evan's face in his hands. When Evan looks up at him, there are tears in Tommy’s eyes, his face hardened with something. It’s not anger, but looks like something more akin to heartbreak.

“You tell me when something scares you,” Tommy reminds him. “We’ve had this talk. Especially if it’s you’re health. Okay?”

Evan nods then, tears falling before he even knows they’re coming. Tommy pulls him forward gently, pressing his lips into the side of Evan’s head as he holds him.

They sit together like that for a while, only pulling away when the door to the room slides open, and Dr. Callahan enters again. He forces a smile then as they both greet her quietly.

“Alright, Evan,” she says, settling her tablet on the table. “I’m going to have you sent down for a cardiac MRI. This is just a more detailed view for me to get. It’ll help us get a clearer view of the kind of timeline we're looking at before surgery. Now, I’m not going to lie to you. Your last scans were three years ago after being struck by lightning, correct?”

Evan nods. “Roughly.”

Dr. Callahan nods, reading through notes on her tablet. “My best guess is that when that happened, there was a tear caused, which went unnoticed. When that happened, it created a weakening in the aorta, which was what allowed this to develop. It’s entirely possible that without your job, it may have grown at a slower rate and may not have been discovered for quite some time. However, given the strenuousness of your position along with the effects of smoke inhalation, it’s created ample opportunity for this to take place.”

“O-okay,” Evan stammers nervously.

“Now as I said, the effects are still serious,” she continues. “In most cases, we’d be more inclined to let something like this be left alone because aortic aneurysms aren’t known to grow very quickly. Yours was likely exacerbated by lifestyle. One of the reasons I’m ordering the cardiac MRI is so that we can get a clearer view of the size of the aneurysm.”

“You said they can grow slow,” Tommy interjects.

“But-but you think it’s still treatable,” Evan stammers.

Dr. Callahan moves closer to the bed, resting a hand on Evan’s calf as she does. “Yes, Evan, I do. Please hear me when I say, I feel confident we can do this. There are always risks involved with any kind of treatment, but this is a common surgery with good outcomes.”

Evan nods again, but the worried expression on his face seems to be at least semi-permanent.

“I’m going to have the nurse come get you in a few minutes,” she explains then before looking back to Tommy. “It could be a while if you want to get something to eat or need to go get anything. I understand you’ve just entered a very stressful time, and I’m going to do my best to get you both through it, but I always like to remind my patients and their families to take care of themselves as well. It’s the most important part of all the treatment.”

Tommy gives her a small smile at that, nods.

“Thanks,” he murmurs. Dr. Callahan leaves then, and he turns towards Evan, still seated on the bed.

“Can I get you anything from home,” he asks.

Evan shrugs, staring at the center of Tommy’s chest, unfocused. “I don't know. Just come back, please.”

Tommy sighs, rolling his head and pulling Evan to him once more, kissing his forehead.

“I will always come back, baby,” Tommy tells him gently. “I'm not going anywhere.”

Tommy is distracted in the truck. His brain is going a mile a minute, trying to figure out everything he needs to get in line for both himself and Evan. There’s the medical part of it all, making sure that all the appointments that are sure to come between now and whenever the surgery happens, plus every appointment that will follow. There’s the issue of getting the insurance to cover it all, because lord knows they’ll probably have one excuse or another. There’s getting Evan covered for leave throughout the entire process, and also making sure Tommy can get time off as well, especially given the fact that the internet was pretty straight-forward about FMLA not qualifying if the partner isn’t a spouse. That particular tidbit was f*cking irritating. Their wedding is supposed to be in a little less than six months, and yet because the federal government doesn’t have a finger in the game between them, it directly impacts Tommy’s ability to take time off that he knows he’s going to need.

As he pulls into the driveway of their house, he huffs, leans back in the seat, shaking his head. He needs to talk to someone, but he knows if reaches out to Eddie before Evan gets the chance to, it’s just going to make their friend panic.

He pulls his phone from the dash and scrolls through is contacts, thumb hovering over the name for more than a minute in contemplation before he finally lets his finger fall onto the screen, connecting the call.

It rings twice before he picks up.

“Tommy? Something up with Buck?”

Bobby's voice calms him, if only slightly. Tommy doesn’t call him often. Not because he doesn’t like the other man—he’s actually rather fond of him—but Evan is usually already on the phone with him anytime Tommy ends up talking to Bobby. As it is, he's only reached out a handful of times, usually if Evan is too sick to work (and still trying to), or once or twice when he needed help with trying to surprise him.

His jaw tightens as he stares at his phone for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to even start the conversation.

“Look, um, something happened,” he replies, his voice strained as he struggles to structure the sentences together.

“Are you okay? Is Evan okay?” Bobby’s voice is more serious then, like he’s standing to attention suddenly.

“Yes,” he replies quickly. “And no. I-…” His voice trails off and he huffs, his gaze drifting around the truck like it will give him the answers he so desperately needs. “Did you know Evan was having physical health issues?”

Bobby is quiet for a moment, and it forces Tommy to check the phone to make sure the call is still connected.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah,” the older man replies. “Sorry. I’m not entirely clear on what you mean, Tommy. What kind of health issues?”

Tommy scubs his hand across his forehead.

“He’s been having chest pain,” Tommy answers, his voice faltering. Damn it. He needs to hold it together, to get through this.

Bobby lets out a loud breath then. “No. No, I did not know anything about that. He wouldn’t have been out on active calls without a physical then.”

Tommy nods. He figured that would be Bobby’s response, but it doesn’t make him feel any better.

“He-…we were in bed,” he stammers. “And he started having pain.”

“Tommy.” Bobby states his name warily like he’s waiting for him to drop a bomb.

“I’m sorry,” Tommy says quickly, shaking his head at himself. “He’s- he’s alive. B-but…”

“Was it a heart attack,” Bobby asks. “I mean he’s young, but the job-..”

“No,” Tommy answers. “But it is his heart.” He pauses then, trying to find the strength to actually get the words out of his mouth. Once he has to say them out loud, that makes it real. Then it’s not just something a doctor has told them, but a fact of their life. He closes his eyes. “He has an aortic aneurysm.”

Bobby doesn’t answer again, as though he needs time to process. Tommy launches into Dr. Callahan’s explanation of how she thinks it formed, what they’re currently doing at the hospital, what it all currently means.

“So this is another benefit of being struck by lightning,” Bobby states sardonically. “Good f*cking God.”

Tommy nods. He selfishly hates that calling Bobby has made him feel a little better, because it feels like he’s just dumping on the older man, even if he is someone both he and Evan rely on. If Bobby is, for all intents and purposes, Evan’s quasi-father, then by extension Tommy has easily managed to find a father-in-law in the man.

“I just, I know Evan is closer to you than I am-..”

“Family is family,” Bobby states, cutting him off. “I don’t care who calls me, as long as one of you does. But what can I do? How can I help?”

Tommy finally opens his door then, gets out of the truck. He feels calm enough to finally get moving on getting the things they need from the house.

“Honestly, you just did,” he states as he flips through his keys, finds the one for the front door. “Um, I know they’ll probably have more information after the MRI, but I’m assuming they’re going to go forward with surgery sooner than later, given the situation we're in.”

“So he’s going to need time off,” Bobby surmises. “Okay. I can get some calls started.”

“I don't know that they’re going to let him come back until after,” Tommy adds as he walks towards the bedroom. “I mean the little bit I found on the internet qualifies this as rapid growth rate. It’s not normal by any measure.”

“Alright,” Bobby replies. “Look, for now, I'm going to let Buck decide if he wants us to come up there. But if you guys need anything-..”

“I know how to reach you,” Tommy finishes for him. “Thanks, Bobby.”

They end the call a minute later, but Tommy has barely started packing Evan’s duffel bag with fresh clothes when his phone rings again. He looks around quickly, spots his AirPods on the nightstand, and grabs them, shoving one in his left ear before answering the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Maddie states. “I just called my parents.”

Tommy sighs. The last people he wants to deal with right now are the Buckleys, and he knows Evan isn’t going to feel much better about them being involved.

“I didn't tell them much,” Maddie asks. “But I asked about heart disease in the family, because genetic factors play a part in all of this.”

“Get anything good from them,” Tommy asks as he starts shoving clothes into the bag.

“I guess our grandfather had an aneurysm. But because cancer was a more prominent issue in our childhood, it never came up,” she explains. “I’m assuming his doctor is going to want to know that.”

“I’ll mention it when I get back up there,” Tommy replies. “They took him for a cardiac MRI so I’m at home packing a bag. I also just talked to Bobby and he wants Evan to decide if he wants company, and I’m gonna let him call Eddie, but I think maybe you and Jee coming up might help.”

“I’m throwing dinner together right now,” she replies. “But once we’re done we can come up. Do you want Howie to come too?”

Tommy takes a breath, considering the option. Chimney and Evan have a good relationship, but he knows in that moment that Maddie is asking if he wants Chimney to come up as his friend, not Evan’s.

“Y-yeah,” he stammers. “Thanks, Maddie.”

“Just making sure all my boys are taken care of,” she responds. “I'm gonna bring you up some of what I’m making so you eat. I know they’re probably going to make Evan eat rabbit food while he's there.”

Tommy chuckles at her statement. “Alright. Sounds good. We’ll see you soon.”

When Tommy makes it back up to the hospital, Evan is still down in radiology. He gets their things settled, which only takes him a few minutes, and then he’s back on the internet, this time on Evan’s iPad, if for no other reason than to keep himself distracted. He’s desperately trying not to use Google like it’s a doctor, but it’s hard not to. He has so many questions and not nearly enough answers.

Before long, he tosses the tablet aside, having to force himself to stop reading things that are only serving to scare him anyway. After that, all he can do is pace the floor anxiously, waiting for Evan to return.

He’s been doing so for about twenty minutes when the door opens again. He stops walking and looks up, seeing Maddie standing there with Jee-Yun and Chimney. His shoulders sag at the sight of them, and Jee is all but leaping from her parents' arms, trying to get to him. He welcomes the distraction, lifting her up once she runs up to him and hugging her.

“Hi sweet girl,” he murmurs to her before mouthing a ‘thank you’ to Maddie and Chimney. They both nod.

“Is he not back yet,” Maddie asks.

Tommy shakes his head. “I guess these things can take like an hour and a half, so hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

Maddie nods, looking around the room. The lack of a hospital bed makes it seem larger than it actually is. After a moment, she offers up the bag in her hands.

“Brought dinner like I said I would,” she says. “We had meatloaf.”

Tommy nods, and Maddie follows his gaze, ultimately setting the bag in a chair nearby.

“Hey Jee, do you still want to go show Uncle Tommy where you get the good soft serve in the hospital,” Chimney states a moment later. She nods animatedly and Tommy looks down at her adoringly, smiling at her.

“Well, I think we should do that then,” he says, bouncing her on his arm. He looks towards Maddie as she rests a hand on his bicep.

“I’ll let you guys know if he comes back before you do,” she states. Tommy nods and she gives his arm a squeeze before he heads to the door with Jee-Yun, following after Chimney.

They’re reaching the end of the ward near the elevators when he finally breaks the silence.

“Did he say anything to you about it all,” Tommy asks. He’s fairly positive at this point that no one knew beyond Evan, but he can’t help asking anyway.

Chimney shakes his head. “I have a vague recollection of him telling us that he thought he pulled something a few months back. That’s the only thing I can think of.”

Tommy nods. They reach the elevators and Chimney punches the button to go downstairs. Jee scrambles in Tommy’s arms then, and he lowers her, Chimney taking her hand a moment later to keep her close.

“He said he got scared,” he exclaims, shaking his head. “I just…I want to be mad that he didn’t tell anyone that he was. But I can completely justify the decision.”

Chimney nods as they step onto the elevator. He lets Jee step forward and push the button for the first floor before stepping back, waiting as the doors close.

“I mean Buck has been through it, missing time because of injuries. He never seems to be able to do it simply.”

“That’s exactly why I’m frustrated,” Tommy says. “Something was wrong and he didn’t mention it, knowing his penchant for having serious health complications.” He’s still shaking his head as he presses his lips together in a hard line, feeling his throat get tight. “What if it had burst, Howie? People don’t survive that.”

Chimney looks up at him then, reaching out and placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy’s expression hardens at the gesture and his jaw locks. He turns in the elevator to face the wall, and Chimney steps forward, punching the stop button.

“Daddy,” Jee whines. He kneels down in front of her, although his gaze is still on Tommy as the larger man’s shoulders shake with quiet sobs.

“Just a minute, Jee,” he tells her in a cheery tone. He distracts her by brushing her hair out of her face and then smiles at her. “I think Uncle Tommy needs another hug.”

Jee turns then, and they let him have another few seconds before Chimney lifts her from the ground at the same time that Tommy turns, accepts his niece into his arms and squeezes her tight.

“You good,” Chimney asks, concerned.

Tommy nods, wiping at the tears on his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “Thank you.”

Chimney waves a dismissive hand, leans over and starts the elevator up again, and then they’re docking on the main floor a few seconds later.

They walk to the cafeteria, and Tommy lets Jee-Yun hold his attention as she chats at him about ice cream and all her favorite toppings. He listens with rapt attention, even getting a small cone for himself before they sit down in the cafeteria to eat the dessert. Even though he desperately just wants to go back upstairs and see if Evan has come back from his scans, he knows Chimney is trying to make sure he takes care of himself as well, and so he forces himself to sit there and enjoy the ice cream.

When they’re done, Chimney grabs a cone to take back up for Maddie, and then has to double-time his own speed to keep up with Tommy and Jee. The ride back up to the cardiac unit is quiet, other than Jee’s continued babbling about her favorite things.

Still, when they arrive back in Evan’s room a few minutes later, he hasn’t returned. It’s everything Tommy can do to not feel frustrated, let alone show it outwardly to his friends. Fortunately, the wait at that point is short, because they’re just starting to settle again when Evan’s bed is wheeled back into the room and the nurse starts hanging his fluids back on the IV pole in the room.

“Dr. Callahan will be in soon to go over the results,” she explains to them before heading out.

Jee scrambles up onto the bed, clinging to Evan in a tight hug, which makes the blonde smile for the first time since he got home earlier that evening. For a few minutes, they all sit and let Jee hold their attention and allow the ease that having her there brings each of them. When he decides she’s done hanging out on the bed with Evan, he shifts his attention back to Tommy.

“Did you talk to anyone else yet?”

Tommy shakes his head. “I called Bobby, mostly because I needed to talk to someone. But I didn’t want to call Eddie or Hen if you weren’t ready.”

Evan nods, staring down at where Tommy is holding his hand.

“I’ll call Eddie tomorrow,” he murmurs. “When we know more. Did Cap-..”

“Bobby’s working on getting things in motion for coverage right now,” Tommy states before Evan can finish the sentence.

“Coverage?” Evan asks. “I’m not leaving my job-..”

“I didn’t say anything about that,” Tommy counters. “But this is your heart, and if we’re looking at surgery, I’m going to assume that probably means they won’t let you go back to work until after.”

Evan frowns at the suggestion, but he doesn’t argue. Tommy moves forward on his chair and lifts Evan’s hand to his mouth, kissing his fingers.

“Look, we’re going to take this one new bit of information at a time,” he states. “Okay? And we’re going to stay off the Internet and listen to the doctors.”

Evan looks back up at him again. “Were you already on Google?”

Tommy averts his gaze in an obvious response and then shakes his head. “Just don’t do it. Trust me.”

Jee crawls back up on the bed then, pulling their attention once more. She’s just settled into Evan’s lap again when the door to the room opens again. A petite, brown-haired woman enters the room along with a taller, bald man.

“Evan,” Dr. Callahan greets cordially as everyone shifts their attention back to her. “This is my colleague, Dr. Hardy Tomlin. He’s a cardiac surgeon. He’ll be working on your case moving forward.”

All the air seems to be sucked out of the room in that one statement. Tommy can’t feel his chest moving, and Evan stops breathing altogether, biting hard on the inside of his mouth.

“S-so surgery is definite,” Evan stammers as Dr. Callahan slips out of the room.

The bald man steps forward, holding his own tablet in his hands.

“Am able to speak freely,” he asks, looking between Evan and Tommy.

Evan nods nervously. “T-this is my fiancé, a-and my sister and brother-in-law. They all can be here.”

Dr. Tomlin grabs the rolling stool and sits down in a space between all of them, clicking through Evan’s file on the tablet quickly.

“Dr. Callahan is good at her job, but most cardiologists don’t do surgery, so she asked me to consult,” he explains. “Now when we brought you down for the cardiac MRI, I wanted to get a better view of things and see what we’re really looking at.”

He clicks through a few slides, gesturing towards a particular area. “This image here is what your ascending aorta looked like after the lightning strike three years ago. This, by all intentions, is a normal view.” He slides through a few scans then, pulls up another. “And this is the one we took today.” He gestures towards the center of the scan, pointing to a circle in the middle of it. “Comparatively, this should not be here, let alone at this size.”

Evan nods slowly, taking in slow, shallow breaths. Dr. Tomlin looks up then, glancing towards the heart monitor.

“I’m going to need you to keep breathing,” he orders gently. Tommy squeezes Evan’s hand then and they exchange a glance. Evan sucks in a deep breath then, lets it out slowly, and the monitor reacts accordingly. Dr. Tomlin waits a beat before sliding through another set of images on the tablet until he has them side by side.

“Based on what we have here, you’re classified as having rapid growth, because aneurysms typically only grow at one to three millimeters per year, but you’re averaging about a millimeter a month. Beyond that, we typically only remove them after five centimeters of growth. Right now you’re measuring at about 4.8.”

“S-s-so th-thats two months,” Evan chokes out, his face twitching in little movements as his heartbeat starts to pick up. “I-I, I’m supposed to get-get married in-in six-six months.”

Dr. Tomlin pauses again, gesticulating slow, deep breaths with his hands.

“I talked to our parents earlier tonight,” Maddie interjects. They all look up at her, Evan’s mouth agape at her statement. “I didn’t tell them anything. But I asked about heart disease in the family.”

“That can play a factor,” Dr. Tomlin replies.

Maddie nods. “I figured. And my father told me that while his father died of cancer, he also had an aortic aneurysm. But he died of cancer before they decided to do anything about it.”

“There is a correlation,” Dr. Tomlin states. “Especially in reference to abdominal aortic aneurysms. However, I think Dr. Callahan was on the money when she said this was a direct effect of the lightning strike. Unfortunately, there’s not much that can be done to prevent this kind of outcome.”

“So what do we do,” Tommy rasps, shifting closer to Evan. He rests his hand on his fiancé’s back, rubbing up and down soothingly. It forces Evan to keep breathing deeper, as well as make Tommy keep his own breaths measured.

“We’re going to schedule surgery,” Dr. Tomlin confirms to them. “At this level of weakness, I’m not comfortable waiting any longer. This is going to be put in as priority one, preferably within the next month.”

“So no going back to work,” Evan surmises softly, echoing Tommy’s earlier sentiment.

“No,” Dr. Tomlin responds. “At the very least not until after surgery and healing time. You’re at far too great a risk of rupture at this point to be fighting fires.”

Evan nods, tries to keep his hands from shaking. It’s as though Tommy can hear his thoughts though, because his other hand is on them then, squeezing lightly.

“So what does the surgery entail,” Maddie asks.

Dr. Tomlin scrolls through more slides on the tablet, pulling up images to help with the explanation.

“At this level of weakness, we’ll do a complete valve replacement. There are two options to consider, both of which come with their own effects. You can go with a mechanical valve, which requires lifelong anticoagulants but can be permanent, or biological, which can last between 15 and 20 years now. Biological doesn’t require anticoagulants, but they do need to be replaced.”

“They’ll never let me back in the truck on lifetime blood thinners,” Evan mutters, mostly to himself.

“We will take time to make this decision,” Tommy murmurs to him softly. There’s no pressure in the statement, instead just the mention of needed, open-ended discussion.

“We’re going to get moving on this, and fairly quickly,” Dr. Tomlin continues. “I’m going to start the process on getting things approved on our end and the soonest open date on the schedule. If you run into any issues insurance-wise, please get in touch with either me or Dr. Callahan. This isn’t something that we can wait on. I’m also going to be processing all of the tests we need to get done beforehand so we can ensure you’re ready to go when the date comes.”

They all nod at him, and he leaves shortly thereafter. Tommy moves up onto the bed completely, holding Evan and murmuring softly to him to keep taking deep breaths. When he glances over, he finds Maddie not doing much better, and Chimney doing the same to try and calm her.

They don’t stick around much longer, too emotionally strained by the news of the evening. Tommy changes sometime afterward, and settles in the bed next to Evan, holding him close to keep him as calm as possible.

“I feel stupid,” he mutters. “I did this.”

Tommy leans back from where he’s rested and lifts a hand to Evan’s chin where he’s lying on his chest.

“I’m sorry, but did we hear the same thing,” he asks. “Being struck by lightning did this. You didn’t do anything to cause this.”

“B-but,” Evan stammers. Tommy shakes his head, brushing his thumb over Evan’s jaw.

“No, Evan. No buts,” he insists. “This is a bad turn of the deck, nothing more.”

Evan sinks back against him, tries to let the feeling of Tommy’s normal, nonproblematic heartbeat calm him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs a few minutes later. “I know you didn’t sign up for this when you asked me to marry you.”

“Okay, no,” Tommy counters, sitting up so that Evan can’t bury himself away. It forces the blonde to sit up as well, and Tommy grasps his entire jaw in his hand gently, forcing him to look up. “I signed up for you, regardless of what form that takes. I wake up and choose you every morning, Evan, and that’s not going to change now. I know it’s hard to grasp after repeated abandonment, but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this.”

Evan stares at the space between them, and the defeat on his face is prominent. Tommy shakes his head, slides his hands up his fiancé’s face, and kisses his temple.

“I love you, Evan, every day, all the time. Bad leg and broken heart included.”

Evan’s chest stutters as something akin to a small laugh comes out of him.

“Okay?”

He forces a nod, blinking away fresh tears as Tommy pulls him in once more, nuzzling his face into the comfort of Tommy’s hand.

“Love you too, Tommy.” He whispers back. “So much that this is not enough. It could never be enough.”

“So we get through this together then, yeah?” Tommy says softly. “And then see about forever.”

Evan just snuggles deeper into his chest.

Chapter 2: i can't win this war alone

Chapter Text

He groans softly as his eyes flutter open, looking around his room in the cardiac unit. His chest hurts; not like it had when they’d been having sex the day before, but just a constant, dull ache he’s realized that he’s been ignoring for weeks now. It was never close enough to the surface for him to put much thought on, given the weight of his turnout gear. He had just brushed it off as an unhealed strain on the muscles in his chest.

Tommy’s fingers move against the back of his skull as he rouses, moaning softly as he straightens his legs out on the bed. They’re in a room with a separate bed for a family member, but Evan had been so anxious the night before that the only thing that could calm him was having Tommy curled up next to him. If the doctors had any issue with that, they didn’t say anything, and Evan assumed that it was probably due to the active difference in his heartbeat. Without Tommy, he was anxious, which kept resulting in his heart rate picking up. Even when he’d fallen asleep, he kept waking up with the monitors beeping faster and Tommy at his side, wide-eyed and worried, trying to get him to calm down.

After the third time, he’d crawled into the bed with him and stayed there.

“You finally stayed asleep,” Tommy murmurs as Evan lifts his head, looking up at his fiancé.

“Mmm,” Evan hums. His brow furrows at the sound of his own voice. It’s gravelly like he’s been sucking on sandpaper.

Tommy’s left hand comes up to his face, knuckles brush over his cheek.

“My chest-…” His scowl grows deeper, more confused. “Wh-what’s happening with my voice?”

Tommy tilts his head onto the pillow beneath them.

“It’s been that way for a minute now,” Tommy replies. “I think maybe we didn’t realize it because we weren’t paying attention to it. I figured it was probably from your last round of smoke inhalation.”

“Can’t find what you’re not looking for, I guess,” Evan mutters. He still doesn’t like the way he sounds, but there’s not anything he can do to affect it. He lays his head back down against Tommy’s shoulder, closes his eyes.

“What were you saying about your chest,” Tommy asks, worry drenching his tone.

Evan opens his eyes again. “Hurts. Not like yesterday, but just in general. I think it has for a while now.”

The door to the room slides open and they both look up. Dr. Tomlin steps in the room in deep green scrubs, scrub cap on his head.

“Good morning,” he says softly, crossing one leg over the other as he leans against the counter. “I’ve confirmed the scheduling for your surgery, Evan. I also wanted to stop in and let you know that we’re planning to release you this morning with a doctor’s note. I have bloodwork being ordered right now so we can be sure everything else is normal. I’d like to get you in for one more test called an electrocardiogram, which will tell us if there’s been any damage to the heart itself. But given your situation, I’m going to set you up with a Holter monitor so we can test for a few days.”

Even if Evan could hide his anxiety, the heart monitor doesn’t allow him to as the beeping picks up.

“This is just another way for me to get a clearer idea on what I’m working with,” Dr. Tomlin tells him in a gentle tone. “And I know it’s hard to hear this right now, but don’t go looking for trouble where there isn’t any yet.”

“Is there anything else we can do,” Tommy asks gruffly. Evan is sitting up now and Tommy rests his hand on the back of his shoulder, stroking against the back of his collarbone.

“Try to remain calm,” Dr. Tomlin answers honestly. “I realize that’s asking a lot right now, but it is important. We could run a cardiac stress test, but I don’t want to do anything to exacerbate symptoms or risk further issues right now.”

“S-s-so I could- I-I could-..”

Dr. Tomlin gives Evan a sad smile. “Don’t hear words I’m not saying. I want you to take it easy, yes. You can still go through your normal daily routine, but avoid strenuous exercise or anything that’s going to stress your heart.”

Evan huffs, and Tommy squeezes his shoulder again.

“Can I answer any other questions before we release you,” Dr. Tomlin asks.

Tommy glances at Evan, and when he doesn’t speak, Tommy invites himself to.

“He said he had dull chest pain,” he comments. “And we’ve realized his voice has been kind-of hoarse for a while.”

Dr. Tomlin nods. “Those are both common symptoms. You might also notice tachycardia, which I think we’ve seen may be an issue already, given what’s shown on the monitors already. Nausea and vomiting are also common due to the pressure caused by this particular aneurysm. So is shortness of breath. But if you get a combination of those with sudden, severe chest pain, that’s when you need to call 911.” He waits for a time, but when neither of them ask any more questions, he uncrosses his legs and stands up straight again.

“Alright, I’m going to have a nurse come in and set you up with the Holter monitor and get that blood work, and then you should be good to go,” Dr. Tomlin tells them. “I’ll be in touch over the next few weeks. But again, if something—anything, especially related to your heart, comes up—please reach out to me or Dr. Callahan.”

Tommy and Evan nod, and Dr. Tomlin exits the room, leaving them in silence. The problem is, even if Evan thought he could remain calm, the heart monitor continues to give him away.

“Baby,” Tommy says to him, leaning forward and kissing the back of his head. “This is not calm.”

“I’m sorry,” Evan rasps. “I’m terrified my heart is going to explode if I move too quickly.”

Tommy moves off the bed and then turns Evan on it until his legs are dangling off the side before taking his face in his hands.

“Your doctors seem pretty clear on that not happening. I know the wait is going to be hell, but we’re going to get there one day at a time,” Tommy coaxes him softly. Evan whimpers, but leans into Tommy’s hold on his face anyway, kissing the heel of his palm. Tommy decides to switch subjects.“You want to talk to Eddie today?”

Evan nods, although he’s still not making eye contact. “Can we go when we leave?”

“We could,” Tommy offers. “Or we could have everyone over by ours, grill out some steaks. Let everyone come to you.”

Evan frowns at the suggestion, but he finally manages to look up at Tommy, who just smiles back at him.

“Baby, you have months of people doting on you ahead,” he states, maybe even a little too happily. “Best to get used to it now.”

Tommy gets in touch with the group chat while Evan is set up with his Holter monitor, ensuring to send individual texts to Hen and Eddie as well that their attendance is expected, although he doesn’t give any further information as to why.

Evan doesn’t say much after, from the time they’re released until they’re in the truck on the way back home. They’re somewhere stuck in traffic on the I-10 when he finally finds his voice again.

“I got used to making myself small,” he murmurs.

Tommy looks over at him from his attention on the standstill traffic. “Hmm?”

Evan turns his head away from the passenger window, looks over at Tommy. “Got used to hearing that I was too needy, or took up too much space, or asked for too much. Or worse, with my parents, I didn’t exist because the context of Daniel’s death mattered more than anything I ever went through. So I made myself small. I stopped asking to take up more space. A-and I’ve worked on it, with you,” he explains, gesticulating at the space in the vehicle between them. “But…something happens to me, and people leave. I try to settle, and Abby leaves. The truck bombing happens, and Ali leaves. I kiss Lucy—which, admittedly, was a bad idea—but then Taylor keeps pushing boundaries I ask her not to, and she leaves. I ask Natalia to talk about something other than me almost dying-..”

“And she leaves,” Tommy finishes for him, a half-frown crossing his features. He takes a deep breath and lifts Evan’s fingers in his hand to his mouth, kissing them. “But here’s the difference. I’m not leaving. And you are not small to me, Evan.”

“Are you sure?” Evan’s voice is shaking, and the despair in his expression is clear as day. “Because this is a lot bigger than a crushed limb.”

Tommy unbuckles his own seat belt and lets go of Evan’s hand, leaning across the center console. He grabs Evan’s chin in his hand for the second time that day, brushing his thumb against Evan’s bottom lip.

“Listen to me,” he insists. “I’m not one of those women walking out when it gets too hard. You are not too much or too needy or too big or too alive for me. I’m in this, all the way through. I didn’t ask you to marry me because it’s some hardship for me. Am I terrified of something happening to you? Absolutely. But one of us has to keep a level head about all of this. So you panic for both of us and I’ll hold down the fort. Okay?”

Evan nods, blinking down several tears. Tommy kisses him, soft and chaste, and then drops back into his seat and pulls his seatbelt back on. A moment later, traffic is moving again.

When they make it home, Tommy sets about getting the backyard set up. Evan tries to help, but Tommy mostly orders him to sit still. The situation isn’t made any better when he tries to help move some of their deck chairs so they’re set out properly, and his heart rate suddenly shoots up. Tommy’s focus immediately drops from getting the grill set up to where Evan has sunk into one of the chairs, hand over the center of his chest as he tries to inhale deep breaths.

Tommy squats in front of him, two fingers on his wrist to feel his pulse while his other hand is rubbing soothing circles on Evan’s jaw.

“You haven’t noticed this at all lately,” Tommy asks him. “Sudden jumps in heat rate?”

Evan sighs softly, shrugging his shoulders. He can tell Tommy’s not mad, but it doesn’t make him feel any better about the entire situation.

“I just…I thought…” He shakes his head at himself and his head drops. “I don’t know, Tommy. I was scared. I didn’t know, and I was scared, and I convinced myself that it wasn’t that bad.”

Tommy frowns at him, but doesn’t argue. They both sit in the same spot for a few more minutes until Evan’s heartbeat drops to a normal range again and then Tommy stands again as they both hear the sounds of a car engine stopping and doors opening.

“Sounds like Maddie and Chim are here,” Tommy tells him as he offers him a hand. Evan takes it and stands, and Tommy kisses his cheek. “Think you can stay calm with Jee here?”

Evan nods.

They walk back into the house to the front door and meet the Hans there. Chimney has arms full of groceries and Maddie does as well, along with Jee on her hip, which they carry into the kitchen. Once the bags are settled though, Evan helps unpack them and starts working with Maddie to get fruit pulled together onto a tray.

“Do not let him convince you that he can do anything that will raise his heart rate,” Tommy warns as he grabs the bag filled with meat, pointing at Evan. The blonde huffs, which only makes his fiancé narrow his gaze at him.

“Really?” Evan whines.

“He’s on a Holter monitor, Maddie,” Tommy replies, ignoring his complaint. Maddie turns towards Evan, seemingly taking in his olive button-down shirt for the first time. One of the leads on his chest is sticking out just slightly enough to see the white plastic. Her gaze drops to the small machine clipped to his jeans, and even though there’s sadness present on Maddie’s face, she seems to hold it together.

“Got it,” she replies, in a tone that tells Evan she’s parenting him. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Tommy and Chimney walk out into the back yard and Maddie sets to work pulling out more food. She eyes Evan conspicuously as he reaches for the watermelon.

“I think I can manage slicing a melon,” Evan grumbles at her as he rolls it onto the cutting board. Maddie glares up at him.

“Let us love you, Evan,” she orders gently. “It’s what’s going to keep you here with us.”

They continue working on putting trays together while Jee pops back and forth between the patio with Tommy and Chimney, and hanging out by Maddie and Evan, sneaking snacks away every few minutes. They’re still working on getting things set up when Bobby and Athena arrive, both of whom essentially order Evan into a chair, bringing down the parenting hammer even harder on him.

They’re finishing up as Hen and Karen arrive with Denny and Mara, but they pass straight through the house to the backyard, finding Tommy and Chimney at the grill.

“Give me a tray,” Evan orders, although it earns him a glare from Maddie, Bobby, and Athena as they start gathering things to take outside. Evan glares back at them. “You guys. I can carry a snack tray.”

Maddie exchanges a look with Athena, and she passes him the world’s smallest package of potato salad, smirking at him.

“There you go, Buckaroo,” she states.

“Now go sit down,” Bobby orders him with his best Cap expression, one that could easily rival all his lectures about him going Full Buck. Evan rolls his eyes and groans, but walks out of the house and onto the deck, setting the plastic container next to the other food already placed there. The other three follow after him shortly, each carrying far more food.

“Do we have drinks,” Maddie asks once she’s done.

“Karen and I just got the cooler full,” Hen responds from a few feet away. “Both alcoholic and non, but we just got it from the store, so it’s not gonna be ice cold quite yet.”

Tommy glances up from the grill as Bobby walks over to switch places with him.

“There are BruMates in the house,” he tells them. He crosses the deck to where Evan is rocking lightly in one of the chairs and brushes a hand through his hair, causing the blonde to look up at him. “You doing okay?” He asks softly.

Evan nods and Tommy leans down, kissing him chastely.

“Can I get you anything?”

Evan scrunches his face for a moment, contemplating. He’d complain about all the attention, but he can feel his heartbeat picking up without any external forces trying to help it.

“Just some water,” he rasps after a moment. “Caffeine feels like a bad idea?”

Tommy nods, leaning down and kissing him once more before he turns and walks into the house.

“What did Tommy do to earn you this treatment,” Hen jokes from her spot beside Chimney near the grill. He elbows her and the look he shoots in her direction isn’t missed by the rest of Evan’s loved ones.

“What?” She asks, confused. Chimney just shakes his head at her. Eddie and Chris come through the door then with more ice and drinks and Tommy steps back out behind them with a Liquid Death inside one of the BruMates. He walks over to Evan and passes him the drink.

Once Eddie has added to the drinks in the cooler, Hen pipes up again.

“Alright something is obviously up,” she comments, looking around at their friends. “So who wants to let Eddie and me in on the secret?”

Glances are exchanged amongst each other. Tommy settles on the arm of Evan’s chair and grabs his hand, glancing down at him. Eddie seems to catch this because his vision suddenly tunnels at the two of them.

“Buck?”

Evan inhales a deep breath, instinctively lifting his free hand to his chest and rubbing it as though that act alone will calm his heart. Tommy pulls his hand closer and slides his fingers over his wrist again, which has Maddie moving closer then too, concerned.

“Deep breaths, Evan,” Tommy tells him softly. Evan glances up at him then, leaving the unspoken you tell them in the space between them. Tommy nods, rubbing his thumb back and forth on the back of his hand.

He turns his head then, expression fixed in a mix of nerves and fear, staring at the ground for a tick before he looks between Eddie and Hen.

“Evan and I went to the hospital last night because he was having chest pain,” he explains slowly. “They ran some tests, and he has a rapidly growing aneurysm on his aorta, assumed to have been caused by cardiac injury from being struck by lightning.” He pauses for a moment to let their friends digest the information. Chris looks especially panicked, looking back and forth between Evan, Tommy, and Eddie. Tommy focuses his attention on Chris. “He’s going to be okay. But he’s scheduled for surgery in three weeks, and we’ll be lying low until then.”

Chris looks back and forth then between Evan and Eddie. All the color has washed out of Eddie’s face at the suggestion of anything happening to his best friend.

“I’m going to be the asshole here that reminds everyone that Buck needs his people to be level-headed because these two are scared enough,” Bobby interjects. His statement seems to ease the tension a little bit, but Hen, Karen, Chris, and Eddie are still crowding around Tommy and Evan a few seconds later.

Eddie drops to his haunches on the opposite side of Evan's chair and rests a hand on his shoulder, staring up at him wordlessly for a few moments, the worry written in his expression. After a moment though, he lets out a breath and smiles up at his best friend.

“You’re gonna get through this,” he tells him. “Because you’re Buck. You don’t know how not to fight back.”

Evan lets out a small smile at the statement. “Thanks, Eds.”

“But you’re also not moving a damn muscle for the next three weeks,” Eddie adds with a small smirk, daring Evan to challenge him. Evan bulges his eyes at the statement, letting out an annoyed huff at his loved ones.

“You guys are ridiculous,” he tells them as Jee toddles up to him and crawls up into his lap. He takes a breath and then sets his jaw briefly before looking at each of them. “But thank you. This might be the only time I say it in the next few months, but I mean it.”

Tommy leans over and kisses his temple as Eddie squeezes his shoulder. His best friend stands back up then, turns his attention to Chris, and ensures he’s okay, given the news. Tommy stays beside Evan until his heart rate is calmed once more.

There’s this thing that happens when symptoms get a diagnosis. When all the little things that are just brushed off as being excused for one issue or another suddenly actually fit under an umbrella. It’s like waking up and suddenly knowing that all those little things aren’t just a weird quirk, but instead the product of something going wrong inside the body. Evan can’t stop thinking about it.

He rolls over on their bed and blinks a few times, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. After everyone had shown up, he was too exhausted to stay awake without having time to rest. And of course, given his current status, everyone had ushered him off to bed and told him to rest, even though he didn’t want any of them to leave.

He eases up off the bed, letting out a dry cough from the shift in position and its effect on the pressure in his chest. Yet another fun symptom he hadn’t paid much attention to when it started in the past few weeks.

The bedroom door opens and he looks up, sees Bobby standing there.

“You doin’ okay, kid?” Bobby asks him.

Evan looks up at him. “Are you guys babysitting me?”

Bobby deadpans at him. “No. I was in the bathroom and heard you cough. Regardless. Are you?”

Evan rolls his shoulders and then his neck, trying to stretch the kinks out. “I guess? I don’t know. Part of me feels stupid and like I was blatantly ignoring what was happening in my own body.”

Bobby crosses his arms as he leans against the doorframe. “Did you know 43 percent of pancreatic cancer isn’t diagnosed until stage four? That’s almost half.”

Evan looks up at him. He knows what Bobby is trying to say, but it isn’t doing much to help him feel better.

“Also, I sincerely hope you’re staying off the internet, but most people don’t discover aortic aneurysms until they’re having routine testing for something else. While I think we all wish you would’ve said something after maybe the second or third time something didn’t feel right, life didn’t really hand you a chance to find out about all of this and have time to process it before things were happening.” Bobby stays in the same spot as he talks, not trying to push him in one direction or another in relation to how he feels. “Look, I know this is scary. I know your whole life has been turned upside down in less than twenty-four hours. But there are people who love you and would like to help you through it all if you’ll let them.”

Evan looks up at him, putting his hands up defensively. “Look, Cap, my parents-..”

“I didn’t say anything about your parents,” Bobby counters. “I know that’s a sticky situation for you, and I don’t think anyone expects you to involve them if it doesn’t feel right for you. What’s important right now is letting yourself lean on those you do want here.”

Evan nods then. “Okay.”

Bobby nods back at him. Evan slides off the bed a moment later, and Bobby moves out of the doorway. They both walk out of the room and back through the house into the backyard. The sun has settled further out into the sky, but the early spring air has created a light chill. His people are around the long patio table on their deck. Tommy is on one of the bench seats, leaning back with his arm across the open empty space next to him, one leg crossed over the knee of the other with his drink resting on the top of his bent leg. He’s clearly sucked into a conversation with Eddie and Chimney based on the animated expression on his face.

As soon as Evan steps outside, Maddie and Hen are both out of their seats and crowding him as Bobby steps past and heads back toward Athena.

“Something wrong,” he asks them. He gets especially confused when Hen starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Just checking your leads,” Maddie tells him as she pulls the small machine from its place clipped into his pants to check the connection. Hen stops unbuttoning his shirt halfway down and checks all of the plastic circles taped to him for proper connection before she buttons it back up and Maddie returns the machine to Evan’s pocket.

He has to actively tamp down his own annoyance, but he forces a smile at them anyway. “Thanks, guys.”

Hen pats his shoulder and smiles at him once she’s done, and she turns away a moment later to yell something out at Denny and Mara. Maddie gives his shoulder a gentle push towards the table, and Evan follows her gesture, walking over to the space next to Tommy and sitting down.

“No, I told Donato that flying into Mammoth this time of year would be a terrible idea for her when she’s still earning her license,” Tommy comments. Evan rests his hand on the inside of Tommy’s thigh, and his fiancé squeezes his shoulder gently in response.

“Well she did it anyway, apparently,” Eddie replies as he lifts his beer to take a sip of it. “Mid-snowstorm and all. Hey, Buck.”

Both men shift their attention to him then, and Tommy lifts his hand off of Evan’s shoulder to the side of his head, pulling him in and kissing his temple.

“Sleep okay,” he asks.

Evan shrugs. Tommy looks at him with a perplexed expression as his fingers stroke through the blonde’s hair.

“I got a call,” he tells him after a moment. “While you were asleep. Simmons needs someone to cover the second half of his shift. His kid is sick, and his wife has to work the overnight at the hospital.”

“Okay,” Evan replies, mildly anxious.

“That would roll right into my shift,” Tommy continues. “So I wouldn’t be home until Friday morning. But I’m also not really in love with you being alone that long.”

Evan reminds himself to take deep breaths as he considers the ramifications of the situation. He would probably be fine without Tommy for the night, but having him gone all through the next day as well is a different story. That much time apart without knowing the status of his echocardiogram but also knowing the state of his aneurysm floods him with anxiety. Thirty-six hours alone is thirty-six hours without knowing that Tommy is safe, and that’s hard enough to contend with on a normal day.

Bobby decides to enter the conversation then.

“Look just because he’s on short-term disability right now doesn’t mean we can’t have him at the firehouse,” Bobby offers. “Come be with A-Shift. That way you’ve got someone with you in case something does happen, and then you’re not at home pacing the floor.”

Evan glances up at Tommy again.

“It’s an option,” Tommy tells him.

“And Buck can always come spend the night by us,” Eddie adds.

“We’ve got our extra room available too,” Maddie states.

“Even Karen and I will stop him from doing anything if he wants to hang out with us and the kids,” Hen interjects.

Evan sighs. “Okay, you guys, really. I think I can handle one night alone at home.”

The expressions he gauges from both Tommy and Eddie are clear on the fact that his people do not like that answer, but no one fights him on it.

“In that case, you meet A-Shift tomorrow morning at seven along with everyone else,” Bobby tells him. His tone makes it clear that the offer isn’t optional. When Evan looks back at Tommy, his fiancé’s expression is clear on the fact that he’s taking Bobby’s side.

“Fine,” he acquiesces.

Eddie nods. “Cool. I’ll be around at six thirty for you. And that’s also not an option.”

The evening passes quicker than he expects. Everyone pitches in to help clean up the backyard before Tommy leaves, and then even after he does, Eddie and Maddie both linger, not wanting him to be left alone. Eddie’s stay only extends longer when Chris gets an invite to go to a friend’s a few neighborhoods over, and Eddie lets him take an Uber with the strict instructions to FaceTime on his arrival so he knows he’s safe.

Evan is settled up in bed in sweatpants with pillows stacked around him so he doesn’t roll over and affect the Holter monitor in his sleep while Eddie sits at the foot of the bed. He’s in the midst of responding to Tommy’s latest check-in—they’re coming roughly every thirty minutes—when he glances up and feels Eddie’s eyes on him.

“I swear I’m not made of glass,” he comments as he finishes tapping out his response to Tommy.

Eddie shakes his head at him. “I should’ve known something was up.”

Evan scrunches his brow at him. “How? I didn’t know.”

“No, but I heard you talk about your chest hurting more than once,” Eddie reminds him. “And Tommy’s right; you’ve sounded off for a while now. I just… I didn’t piece together the chest pain, and the voice, and the exhaustion.”

Evan raises his eyebrows slightly at Eddie. “I didn’t even notice the exhaustion.”

“But you knew something was up,” Eddie states, and it’s more of an interrogatory than a question.

Evan glances around the room, thinking about the context of Eddie’s statement. He knows it’s coming from what little he’s said to Tommy about it all.

“I knew something didn’t feel right,” he says after a long minute of silence. “But I kept putting it off as other things. It wasn’t until the last few weeks when the pain started getting more intense and the tachycardia was happening more frequently that I started to think that something might actually be wrong. And by then, I was scared.”

Eddie nods. He stares at Evan longer than necessary, almost like he’s contemplating a thought. Evan narrows his eyes at his best friend.

“Tommy said something to you?” He asks.

“Look, I try to stay out of your bedroom, both figuratively and even a little literally so,” Eddie states, as though he’s trying not to be overtly aware that he’s physically sitting on their bed. “But…yeah.”

Evan bobs his head forward slightly, raises an eyebrow at his best friend. “Share with the class, Eds.”

Eddie huffs. “We went on a beer run before he got the call from Simmons, and he mentioned that in retrospect, he’d noticed how fast your heart rate was…y’know, after.”

Evan stares at him momentarily as he processes what Eddie’s saying. The information is new to him, mostly because when he wasn’t being phased by more pain in his chest post-org*sm, he was too wrapped up in the happy chemicals to really notice how fast his heart was beating.

“I’m just saying, you’re not the only one who feels like you missed something,” Eddie tells him. “We all kinda do.”

Evan frowns, twisting his phone in circles over the pillows stacked up on his left side as he stares at it. Eddie’s explanation makes him want to call Tommy and tell him that it’s not his fault. It’s another thing that makes him think about what he could’ve done differently to change the entire situation. Or at least know about it sooner, regardless as to whether that would’ve changed the outcome.

After a while, he yawns, leaning back more into his pillows.

“You can go, Eds,” he murmurs, unlocking his phone to let Tommy know he’s about to fall asleep. “I’m gonna be fine. Besides, you’ll be back in like ten hours.”

Eddie shakes his head at him. “Not leaving till you fall asleep, Buck.”

Evan groans, but he doesn’t fight Eddie. He finishes texting Tommy and then reaches for the TV remote, turning it on but keeping the volume low. Without Tommy next to him, it’s the only way he sleeps comfortably.

He’s not sure how long it takes, but he eventually falls out. When he wakes up again, it’s the middle of the night and his heart is pounding. All the lights are off, signifying that Eddie is gone. Evan picks his phone up off the pillow where he left it. It’s barely eleven thirty.

He taps out a text to Tommy, asking if he’s available as he moves himself to the side of the bed. The pain in his chest is still dull, but more intense from his heart rate, and it’s making him nauseous.

He manages to get himself out of bed and across the room to the ensuite bathroom, phone and Holter monitor both in hand. He leans against the sink for a moment, but that angle only makes things worse, so he shifts to his knees, groaning into the silence of the house at his own misery.

His phone starts ringing as he gets sick, and he knows it’s not going to be good because Tommy is calling him a second time when he finally manages to answer, planted against the bathroom wall.

“Thank f*ck,” Tommy sighs as the video comes through on the phone, his worry clear in his tone. “You had me thinking something was wrong.”

Evan groans softly and shakes his head, wiping at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing more than already is. The vomiting started, though.”

Tommy’s phone finally stops moving and it seems he’s settled somewhere as he comes back into view in his navy flight suit. Evan thinks he’s been put on a table somewhere because Tommy is squatting down.

“f*ck baby, I don’t like this,” he states, running a hand into his hair. The concern on his face is palpable. “I don’t like knowing you’re by yourself in this state.”

“But you can’t get time off,” Evan replies wearily. He’s feeling better and his heart rate is starting to come down, but he needs to find the energy to get back to bed. “Thought you said FMLA didn’t count since we’re not married yet.”

“Kinard, what’s going on?” Captain Rezindez’s is familiar enough now to Evan that he knows it separately from Tommy’s other coworkers.

“Sorry, Cap, Evan’s not doing well right now,” he hears Tommy say. He closes his eyes for a beat, trying to muster the energy to get up.

“Right, and I heard FMLA. What’s going on at home, Tommy?” Captain Rezindez doesn’t sound mad so much as he’s concerned that something that would require leave hasn’t been mentioned to him yet.

“Ev? Are you okay with this,” Tommy asks him, closer to the phone again.

Evan sighs, forcing his eyeballs open. He moves a few inches and grabs the door handle, intent on trying to get himself off the floor.

“Fire chief already knows, so it’s gonna be common knowledge eventually,” Evan replies.

“That’s…not an answer,” Tommy comments, slight irritation in his tone. Even so, he decides to continue. “Evan has to have heart surgery before the month is out. Complication of being struck by lightning a few years ago.”

The other end of the line is quiet for a moment as Evan manages to get himself off the floor and drag himself back into the bedroom, crawling up onto the bed. He momentarily forgets the leads on his chest but is quickly reminded when his knee comes down on one of the wires, tugging on the adhesive holding it in place. He doesn’t so much yelp as he does grunt, lifting his leg back up and moving the wire. When the machine doesn’t beep to alert him of any disconnection, he puts it back down on the pillow it was previously on and gets resettled into bed.

“Well, Buckley is right. FMLA doesn’t count if you’re not married under California law,” Captain Rezindez states after a moment. There’s a tick of silence, and then he continues. “But the California Family Rights Act does. It’s unpaid, but you also have access to The Relief fund through the LAFD.”

There’s an audible sigh from Tommy at the information as they both listen to his captain talk.

“I also sincerely hope you’re taking this up with the LAFD, Buckley,” Captain Rezindez adds. “If your doctors have enough documentation on this, it qualifies for more coverage on workman’s comp.”

Evan is struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Tired, T,” he murmurs. “Gonna go back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Tommy replies. “Let me see you real quick?”

Evan scowls as he lifts his head off the pillow and picks the phone up, looking into it for a moment so that he can let Tommy ensure he’s just tired and not actively dying.

“I love you, Evan,” Tommy tells him in that thanks for indulging me tone.

“Mhm,” Evan hums in response. “Love you too. See you ‘morrow.”

Six AM comes too quickly. He isn’t even sure what wakes him up at first, except that there’s light coming through the blinds and he doesn’t want to move. The exhaustion of his heart not working to its full capacity—and his awareness of it—is in full force.

He jumps when he hears noise from the other room, and immediately his heart rate is picking up, which then has him questioning which is more concerning—the random person in his house or his racing heart?

“Buck?”

He lets out an audible sigh as Eddie comes around the corner.

“f*ck, Eddie,” he groans, hand over his chest. “You scared the sh*t out of me, and that’s not what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”

Eddie frowns. “I’m sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were up and okay. You are okay, right?”

Somehow in twenty-four hours, Evan has become an expert in deep breathing and its effects on calming his heart rate. After a few minutes, he nods and then looks back up at his best friend.

“I thought you were coming later,” he asks.

Eddie stares at him, mild indignation on his face. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I could,” Evan mutters, looking back down at his pillows.

“Then let’s get you dressed and up to the station,” Eddie replies. “You can sleep there.”

Evan sighs again but nods. Even so, he’s not a whole lot of help. Eddie basically ransacks the closet for a clean t-shirt and a hoodie—both of which are Tommy’s from his time at the 118—and then tosses clean jeans into Evan’s duffel bag along with his iPad and chargers. Evan does manage to get himself dressed and grab his things, but he has minimal energy to do much more than follow Eddie through the house and out to his car once they’re packed and ready.

In the truck, he’s kept awake mostly from the sunlight. His last text from Tommy was about two hours earlier, letting him know that he was headed out on a rescue operation and that he’d be in touch when he landed. He sends back a quick text to let him know that Eddie has picked him up and they’re on their way to the firehouse.

When they arrive, Bobby and Chief Simpson are both already there, standing near the bay doors, talking. Chief Simpson looks over at him as he and Eddie walk inside. Eddie heads off towards the locker room with Evan’s bag still on his shoulder.

“Buckley,” the chief addresses him. It’s not rude or cordial, but more like he’s questioning his presence. “Thought we had you going on short-term disability.”

“We do,” Bobby interjects. “But Kinard is working a 36 at Harbor right now, and we’d all feel a lot better knowing Buck isn’t home alone.”

Chief Simpson nods, still not giving much in the way of what he thinks about the entire process.

“Heart problems?” He comments.

Evan isn’t sure if the other man doesn’t believe him or if the hospital hasn’t sent over the paperwork yet for whatever they require to get approval for the extended leave, but he also doesn’t have the patience to argue with the man. He curls his fingers under the hem of the oversized, worn hoodie and t-shirt under it, lifting them up his torso until the leads sticking to him are visible.

“Yeah,” he replies, a bit short. “Heart problems.”

Whatever Chief Simpson was holding onto up to that point suddenly dissipates, and he nods as Evan lowers the clothes back down.

“I'm sorry, Buckley,” he states. “Truly. It’s unfortunate to see a work-induced injury still causing problems this far out.”

Evan shakes his head. He’s not interested in pity. He turns his attention to Bobby instead.

“I’m going upstairs. Tell Eddie he can bring my bag up to the bunks whenever, and if Tommy calls, you know where I am.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before crossing the floor and climbing the stairs—admittedly, slower than usual so his heart stays calm—and then crosses the floor towards the bunk room. It’s empty and dark, thanks to shift change. As he strolls up to his bunk though, he realizes that he’s going to need more pillows. He glances around the room for a beat, not overly in love with the idea of using anyone else’s, especially off of B-Shift when he doesn’t hang out with them regularly. Still, after a moment, he grabs one each from Eddie and Chimney’s beds, and then settles them on his own before crawling in and setting his phone and the monitor aside.

Eddie wakes him up later in the day. Evan can smell remnants of smoke, leading him to believe they’ve already been out on at least one call.

“Gotta eat, Buck,” Eddie tells him. “Bobby made lunch.”

He gets out of bed, Eddie’s hand on his elbow pulling him up even though he didn’t ask for it and then walks out of the room with Eddie on his heels. When they make it into the kitchen, Evan can smell Bobby’s potato soup and his mouth starts watering. But as he strolls up to his usual seat, there’s a plate already sitting on the table with salmon and asparagus on it.

“What’s this,” he questions, pulling his chair out.

“Heart-healthy lunch,” Hen replies.

Evan’s expression drops as he looks down at the meal in front of him. Everyone else gets Bobby’s recipe, and he gets rabbit food?

“You guys,” he reasons, his face covered with the attempts of justification. “I don’t have an aneurysm because my heart is unhealthy.”

Chimney looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “I was in the room when Maddie told your surgeon that your grandfather had one.”

“Besides,” Hen chimes in, crossing her arms. “Even if it’s not, your body is about to contend with a major change that will require a diet change anyway. Might as well start getting used to it now.”

Evan scowls at them, but Eddie presses down on his shoulders, and he slumps into the chair, picking up the fork on the plate. He pokes at the salmon with it.

“I don’t think it would be a bad idea for us to all make a change to a heart-healthy diet,” Bobby comments after a moment, which quickly earns him a chorus of ‘Bobby’, ‘really, sir’, ‘Cap’. He looks around at the rest of their team members. “Yes, really. Our job is dangerous enough as it is, and Buck isn’t the only one who’s faced cardiac issues at this table. Or did you all forget when we lost the house in the fire two years ago?”

The table is quiet, but it makes Evan feel a little better to know Bobby isn’t suggesting he has to make such a drastic change by himself. As he’s musing over it though, he drops his fork suddenly, earning all the other eyes at the table on him.

“What?” Eddie asks, concerned.

Evan looks over at him, slack-jawed. “The catering order for the wedding. It took us four months just to decide on the menu.”

Hen and Chimney are grumbling his name softly then, commenting on the issue not being that big.

“Look kid, let’s worry about that later,” Bobby states. “You and Tommy might have a tighter schedule on some things now, but there’s still plenty of time.”

Evan opens his mouth to respond, but the klaxons cut him off, and his team is jumping up from the table. He’s halfway out of his seat before he remembers that he’s not actually working, but still ends up standing, watching as they head for the stairs.

“Stay calm, Buck,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, and it’s more of an order than a suggestion.

“Call Maddie if you need anything,” Chimney adds. “She’s on shift but she’ll answer!”

Thirty seconds later, they’re piling into the ladder and rescue trucks, leaving him standing alone at the balcony. It’s not the first time he’s ever been left at the 118 by himself, but this time is different.

He ends up back at the table, picking around at his plate. He doesn’t end up finishing all of it, and when he’s done he cleans up just to have something to do. He goes about it intentionally slow to keep his heart rate normal, and by the time he's finished cleaning the table up and emptying the dishwasher from everything else Bobby used to cook, it’s still only been an hour. Then, shortly after Bobby calls out over the radio that they’re headed back in, Athena radios out for assistance and Bobby calls back that the team is on its way.

Evan tries to focus his attention on other things. He goes to the rec room on the first floor and turns on the TV, but struggles to find anything to hold his interest. His last message from Tommy had been while he was asleep, letting him know he was headed out on another flight, and he knows if he spends too much time hovering around the radio, the anxiety of worrying about everyone will just have him in a panic again.

Somehow, he manages to doze off on the couch, because the next thing he knows, the team is jumping out of the trucks, coming into the room to check on him.

“I put the food away,” he tells them as they all walk back out onto the main floor.

“Air support from fire station 217,” comes over the radio as they’re standing there, and Evan’s stomach drops. Not ten seconds later, Tommy’s voice comes back.

“LAFD search and rescue 1701 responding, we are en route.”

Hen claps a hand down on Evan’s shoulder, pushing him towards the stairs.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Buckaroo. Tommy knows what he’s doing,” she tells him. “Come on back up.”

His eyes are still locked on her radio, but his feet move anyway, and they head up to the second floor, standing near the balcony as Bobby works on reheating the lunch the rest of them didn’t get to eat.

Evan tries to focus on Eddie telling him about the call they just went out on, but he can only do so much. It’s only made worse when the sudden rush of pounding fills the ambient noise around them ten minutes later, bringing the familiar sound of a rainstorm. His breath catches then as he looks downstairs through the open bay doors and sees the water splattering onto the ground.

“Breathe, Buck,” Hen orders him again, placing a hand between his shoulder blades. He looks over at her and tries to force a smile, but any semblance of that is quickly shattered by the familiar sound of lightning cracking across the sky. Suddenly he’s on the floor with his hand on his chest, trying desperately to suck down air, but his heart is racing so fast that he can’t get a real breath.

“Buck,” “Hey, Buckaroo,” “Evan.”

He shakes his head, looking up at Hen as he continues clawing at his chest.

“I can’t-, I can’t-..”

Hen whips her head back at their coworkers.

“Chimney, get the lifepak,” she orders. “Bobby, we need the oxygen.”

Bobby nods at her, looking to Eddie and Chimney. “You both heard her.”

The two men are down the stairs and back up in less than a minute with both items.

“We need to get him off the floor,” Hen states then. Eddie passes the oxygen off to Bobby and lifts Evan up bridal-style off the floor, walking across the loft and settling him on the couch. The others follow after them, and once he’s settled, Bobby is already pulling the oxygen mask down over Evan’s face, turning the flow on. Hen makes quick work of turning on the LifePak, plugging the pulse oximeter, and wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Evan’s arm.

“f*ck.”

Bobby looks down at her, surprised and concerned all at once. “What?”

She looks up at him, hands out in exasperation. “We can’t unplug the leads he already has on.”

“Use the limb leads,” Chimney suggests, already pulling the cords from the machine. “Might not be as accurate, but you’ve got the Holter to compare it to.”

Hen nods at the suggestion and makes quick work of pulling the leads apart, applying fresh adhesive to them.

“I’m sorry, Buckaroo,” she tells him as she starts pulling at his clothes. In mere seconds, he has leads on both collarbones, the insides of his ankles, tops of his thighs (which Hen has to fight his pants up to get on), and both wrists. The machine is immediately beeping rapidly, and she turns off the sound, shaking her head.

“How fast,” Bobby asks, watching Evan with a concerned expression.

“187,” Hen replies. After a moment though, she speaks again. “But coming down. One eighty. One seventy six and dropping.” She holds Evan’s hand through it, running her thumb over the back of his fingers as his breaths come slower and slower until he’s finally in a normal range.

“Thanks,” he rasps after a few minutes have passed, pulling the oxygen mask down off his face. Hen lifts her free hand up and pushes it back over his mouth.

“Keep it on, Buck,” she warns. “I’m not convinced this is finished.”

He furrows his brow at her, but a few seconds later another crack of lightning makes him jump, and as a result, his heart rate jumps. It’s minor compared to what just took place, but proves her point.

Evan leans back against the couch, exhausted from the past few minutes. He wants to complain about feeling weak. He’s slept more in the past two days than he has in ages and he’s barely done anything, but he knows the complaints would only be met with his friends telling him he’s not taking it easy enough.

“This is search and rescue 1701,” Tommy’s voice comes over the line then, and there’s a certain amount of anxiety in it, like he knows Evan might be listening. “We might be in need of-..” His voice stops, and then there’s static, which is enough to get Evan panicking again.

“Breathe, Buck,” Hen orders him, and it’s not gentle this time.

“Strike that. Pan pan. 1701 cannot safely land in this-..” His voice is interrupted by another loud crack followed by a boom of thunder so strong that the building shakes. Evan’s fingers are white from how tightly they’re squeezed on the oxygen mask and Hen’s hand, his desperate attempts for air audible.

“Hen, turn it off,” Bobby orders, but then Evan is lurching forward with every ounce of energy he has, grabbing at her radio.

“No!” He yells behind the mask. Hen looks up at Bobby.

“He’s right Cap,” she tells him. “That would just make this worse.”

Bobby huffs, arms crossed tightly as he stares down at Evan with a worried expression. He sits own on the arm of the couch next to Evan and squeezes his shoulder, making him look up.

“You have to breathe, Buck,” he orders him. “We can't shock you back into rhythm, and I know you’re not going to let us take you to the hospital. So breathe.”

Evan whimpers, dropping back against the couch again, but he nods. It feels f*cking impossible to do so, but Eddie moves around the couch next to him and then starts talking softly.

“Remember the jello method,” Eddie says in a calmer tone than his friends are using. Evan nods, keeping his eyes closed. Eddie starts talking him through it, and it helps some. Still, it isn't until he hears the comforting words of ‘1701 has returned to base’ that he manages to completely relax. He’s so tired at that point that even lifting his head feels like trying to pick dead weight up off the floor. Still, Hen is hovering over him like a literal mother hen, eyes moving back and forth between the lifepak and Evan.

“Someone text Tommy,” she mutters softly when she’s sure Evan is close enough to the edge of unconsciousness to not argue with her. “He can’t go through this again.”

Tommy clomps into the 118 almost dead on his feet. He heads for the loft, spotting the team seated around the table once he’s most of the way up.

“Tommy!” Chimney calls out, cheerful at first, and then after taking him in, his expression shifts to one of concern. “You slept yet, dude?”

Tommy shrugs as he slides into the chair Eddie pulls out for him. “Got a few hours right before the end.”

“What happened to thirty-six hours,” Bobby asks as he stands, walks over to the coffee percolator. He fills a to-go cup and then adds Tommy’s preferred mix of sugar and creamer before heading back to the table and sliding it over to him.

“Rezindez told Simmons he could take the back half of my shift if he wanted the hours back,” Tommy explains, taking the cup gratefully when Bobby passes it to him. He takes a long sip off of it and sighs wearily. “Thanks. Anyway, we had a discussion this morning in between calls about the California Family Rights Act. I guess he called the fire chief.”

Bobby nods. “Simpson may have stuck his foot in his mouth this morning.”

Tommy glances up at him curiously. “Yeah?”

The way his friends all glance around at each other with mixed expressions of mild indignance and amusem*nt only further drives his curiosity.

“What happened?”

“Buck flashed the chief with the leads on his chest,” Hen states as she lifts her own coffee to her mouth surreptitiously.

Tommy glances back towards Bobby. The older man holds his hands up.

“Hey, I don’t know what Simpson did or didn’t know when he came this morning to talk about Buck’s time off. I don’t think he was fishing for information, but also…you know Buck. He wasn’t interested in the bullsh*t.”

Tommy raises his eyebrows as he takes another sip of his coffee, takes consideration of the entire situation. There’s a certain level of irritation at the fact that the discussion made Evan feel like it even had to take place, given fact that there’s no legal requirements to disclose the nature of his situation. But he’s also mildly entertained that Evan would effectively tell their bosses’ boss to go f*ck himself.

“So does that mean you found a way to get time off,” Eddie asks.

Tommy shrugs. “I mean Evan and I still need to talk about it, but after today? It’s on the table. Speaking of.”

“I don’t know how you’re handling it all,” Eddie comments, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I mean we’ve all known he’s anxious any time you get called out into the air. But when you flew into that storm today…”

Tommy stares at him expectantly, waiting on the end of the sentence. Eddie shakes his head.

“How bad are we talking,” he asks when Eddie doesn’t respond.

Chimney clears his throat. “Hen stuck him on the lifepak.”

Tommy looks over in her direction.

“He kept having runs of SVT,” Hen states. “I know he’s got another few hours on that monitor and I’m not a cardiologist, but he should be on beta blockers now.”

Tommy scrubs his forehead with a huff, resting his elbow on the table and leaning into his hand as he does.

“Hey,” Eddie interjects, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’re gonna get through this as a family.”

Tommy looks over at him, the exhaustion and stress of the last two days making him look as though he’s aged a full decade.

“Yeah,” he rasps. He drops his head back against the back of his hand. Bobby reaches across the table and rests it on the wrist of his hand still wrapped around his coffee cup.

“Tommy.”

He looks up at the older man then, eyes glassy but no tears, at least not yet.

“We’ve got you. Both of you.”

Tommy walks into the bunk room half an hour later and stands in the doorway for a beat, just watching Evan sleep. It’s not lost on him that he’s doing it partially because he’s terrified of not getting decades more of this. He’s scared of them not even getting to have their wedding, and the house full of dogs and kids they’ve had so many conversations about. He’s petrified of the idea that any small cause could be the difference between a successful surgery that keeps Evan alive and his body bleeding out into itself before he even gets to the hospital.

After a few minutes, he strolls across the room and perches in front of Evans's bed, brushing his fingers through the blonde curls on his head.

“Evan.”

He doesn’t stir at first, but as Tommy rests his other hand over the blonde’s, he groans softly, eyebrows lifting and then scrunching before his eyelids finally slip open, finding Tommy’s eyes as he wakes.

“Hi my love,” Tommy murmurs at him, a soft smile on his face.

“Is it morning already,” Evan rasps, lifting his head off the pillow. He flinches at the ache in his chest. Nothing’s different, but the runs of tachycardia have made it more intense. Tommy lets go of his hand and brings it up to his chest, rubbing gently. Evan sighs at the gentle weight; the warmth feels nice.

“No,” Tommy replies. “I switched around with Simmons again. Talked more with my captain about some of our options after today.” He pauses for a moment, looking Evan over. “Really don’t like how things went for you.”

Evan curls his fingers around Tommy’s on his chest and they continue to stare at one another for a tick before he finally lets out a breath and pushes himself up from the bed. Tommy follows his lead, standing up and offering him a hand.

“Ready to go home,” Tommy asks him.

Evan wiggles his nose, raises an eyebrow at him. “Soon. Cap cooked?”

Tommy chuckles, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah. Come on. I think they saved us some.”

Chapter 3: let me show you the shape (of my heart)

Chapter Text

Evan falls asleep again on the ride home, and when they get there, he drags into the house, following after Tommy into the bedroom. The pillows are still stacked up from that morning. Tommy attempts to restack them, but Evan is right behind him, cuddled up against his back and nuzzling against his neck.

“Evan, this is not conducive to us getting into bed,” Tommy chuckles, trying to pull at the pillows as hands curl against his shoulders. After a bit, he gets them settled and gently pulls Evan’s hands off of his shoulders so he can get undressed. However, once he’s down to his boxers, he crawls into his side of the bed. Evan tosses the hoodie and t-shirt aside and invites himself onto Tommy’s side of the bed, plastering himself to his fiancé’s chest.

Tommy laughs.

“We cannot sleep like this,” he says, brushing his fingers down the side of Evan’s hair, behind his ear.

“Sure we can,” Evan replies, sticking his hands underneath Tommy’s hips so he can wrap his arms around him.

“Baby,” Tommy laughs. “No we can’t. You gotta move.”

“Nope,” Evan responds. He turns his head on Tommy’s chest and bites down on his left pec, making him jolt. Tommy can feel Evan’s smirk against his skin as he starts to suck at the spot.

“Absolutely not,” Tommy states, turning them over on purpose. He shifts the pillows he’s set up for Evan to lean against, out of the way, depositing his fiancé next to him. Evan scowls up at him.

“C’mon,” he whines.

“That is absolutely going to raise your heart rate and blood pressure,” Tommy tells him. Evan waggles his eyebrows in response, grabbing for Tommy’s chin and laying open-mouthed kisses on him. Tommy groans, but reaches up and grabs his hand anyway, pulling it down and leaning away.

“Evan.”

He huffs, his scowl setting deeper.

“Seriously?” Evan whines.

Tommy deadpans at him. “What is the most obvious byproduct of sex,” he asks rhetorically.

“org*sms,” Evan replies with a smirk.

“Increased heart rate,” Tommy counters.

Evan wilts against the bed then, frustrated. He looks over at Tommy after a moment, scowl still set into his features.

“You’re really about to not have sex with me for months, aren’t you,” he grumbles.

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. “So I can continue to do so for decades after? Your god-damn right I am.”

Evan huffs again, and this time Tommy can tell it’s not because he’s irritated. He’s actually upset, about more than just not having sex.

Tommy curls up against his side, tucking an arm around his hip and pulling him close, even as Evan crosses his arms and turns his head away, trying not to show just how upset he is. He presses gentle kisses into the blonde’s shoulder as they lay there, not pressuring him to say anything one way or the other.

It’s quiet for a while, neither of them focusing their vision on anything in particular. Tommy simply holds the space for him, stroking his thumb gently against Evan’s hip as he cries angry tears in the silence of their bedroom. Tommy watches his chest rise and fall, occasionally stuttering as when a fresh wave hits Evan, but he doesn’t hold any expectations for him. He just waits.

After a time, Evan snuffles and Tommy finally tilts his head up, resting against the pillow there. He lifts his hand from Evan’s hip up to his face, brushing away the wetness there as the blonde continues to stare across the room, unfocused. It’s still quiet, and as much as he aches to fill the silence, he won’t. He knows Evan needs this time to process everything they’re going through, everything he’s being forced to endure. Because sure, signing up to be a firefighter is one thing, but not in the way he’s been faced with. Not being pinned under a ladder truck. Not being struck by lightning. Not having a life-threatening heart problem as a direct result of that lightning strike.

Eventually, quite some time later, Evan finally turns towards him. He’s still scowling, though it’s not set as deeply, and there are still tears coming down his face, the unspoken it’s not fair hanging in the space between them.

“I know,” Tommy murmurs softly to him, pressing his lips to Evan’s forehead. That act brings fresh tears, and Tommy pulls him in closer until Evan is spooned up against him. He moves the machine for the heart monitor out of the way, curling back up against Evan with his hand resting just under his ribs on his stomach.

Eventually, Evan closes his eyes and doesn’t open them again. He’s still awake, and there are still occasional tears, but it’s an admission of defeat on the day. Tommy presses his lips into his temple, nuzzles against his hairline.

“I love you,” he whispers softly. “And it’s okay to be angry.”

Evan doesn’t answer him, but he does eventually untuck his arms, and his hand finds Tommy’s wrist, holds on. He falls asleep that way.

Tommy waits a while before he moves him, settling him higher on the pillows so that he doesn’t tug on any of the wires or hurt himself while he’s asleep. Once he has Evan situated, he cleans up the floor and gets the lights turned off, and then ends up in the kitchen, staring out into the backyard.

He wants someone to wake them both up. Call and say that they’re not really living in this nightmare. Because sure, there’s surgery that can most likely, probably fix the problem. But that surgery comes with complications and side effects, and it’s a life they hadn’t planned for, let alone something either of them had on their radar. He really can’t conceptualize how three days ago, he woke up and everything was fine, and now…

He glances towards the hallway, just barely making out the doorway of their bedroom from the angle of the arch.

In the past, he’d shut down. He’d retreat into himself and just keep it all bottled up. It had taken years of therapy to break those walls down and force himself to find other outlets. Granted, he’s still not always great about finding the words, but somehow he’s managed to find a way to keep from stuffing everything down.

He slides the glass door to the patio open and steps out onto the deck, pulling his phone from his pocket. He knows that second-guessing himself only gets worse with more time, so he forces himself to make the call quickly as he sits down on one of the chairs, waiting as the phone trills in his ear.

The call connects on the fourth ring.

“Give me a minute.”

“Okay,” he murmurs back, trying to reign in the tightness in his throat.

There are footsteps, murmurs, and then the sound of a door closing and locking.

“Alright, I’m in my office. What’s going on,” Bobby asks.

Tommy shakes his head. “I…you said I could call?”

“Of course,” Bobby replies, that same gentle fatherly tone he always uses when Evan calls him off shift.

Tommy looks around their backyard. He knows what he wants to say, but finding a way to actually get those words out of his mouth is a different story. It’s another layer of saying it makes it real.

“I told him on the drive home yesterday that I’d keep it together so he could be the one to panic for the both of us,” he explains, biting hard on the inside of his cheek as tears rush over his waterline. “But I’m terrified. He’s so mad right now, Bobby. And I don’t blame him.”

“Neither do I,” Bobby concurs. “You both should be. Buck is right. None of this is fair.”

“I could break things,” Tommy admits, his voice gruff. “I know it’s not technically medical negligence because no one knew… but it is like waiting for a bomb to go off.”

“Yeah,” Bobby replies softly. “It is.”

“And I-I, I can’t, you know?” He stammers. “I physically- I, I can’t. If something happens to him because of this, and he doesn’t come out of it perfectly fine…” The squeak of a whimper scatches its way out of his throat. He clears his throat, quickly blinking away tears and wiping them away. “I know it’s nobody’s fault, it’s just a byproduct of a bad thing that happened. B-but what? We-we get two? Two and a half years? Because there’s not someone else. There’s not someone after Evan. There’s-…I-it’s not even the stubbornness of saying I’d refuse to try. There is no one else.”

Tears are running freely down his face as he speaks, and the words are coming out of him faster than he can even process it all, but he knows it’s true. He’s known for a long time, almost since the very beginning, not long after that fist kiss, that Evan was it for him. But they’d done things respectfully. They’d move in together, say ‘I love you’, get engaged, plan a wedding. Now it felt like there wasn’t nearly enough.

“I know,” Bobby replies, and it’s not comforting. Not that being told he’d find a way through it all would be either. But it’s not comforting to be told that the person you view as your past, present, and future could die and there’s not a better ending after that.

“He’s such a good person, too,” Tommy states, his voice nasally as he snuffles, wipes at the tears still running down his face. “I know you know that, but,- I-, he- he saves babies, and runs into burning buildings, and throws himself on the sword to save perfect strangers. He puts everyone else first, and he doesn’t complain about any of it. And he gets this? What sick karmic joke is that? A-at what point does the crap he’s been served from literal conception stop?”

Bobby doesn’t respond. He just lets him vent; and the thing is, once Tommy gets going on an emotional tangent, it’s hard to stop, especially when it comes to Evan. Because it’s Evan. The man he’d move the sun and moon for, give anything to make smile, live in a cardboard box on the edge of a cliff if it so pleased him. Evan.

“I don’t regret it, you know,” he says when he finally runs out of emotional babble. “I’d never regret it. I know I’m lucky to get to love him. Be loved by him.”

“We all are.”

“But I can’t do this without him,” Tommy admits, his voice strained and raspy. “I don’t want to.”

“I won’t be a hypocrite and tell you that you have to,” Bobby tells him. “When my family died in the fire that I caused, I crawled back in the bottle. I chased the opportunity for death like the edge of a lightning bolt. And I could sit here and tell that you’ll be okay. I’m choosing to believe that Buck comes through this and you two still make it down the aisle in a few months. Although apparently there’s some discussion that needs to be had about the menu now with his diet requirements.”

Tommy huffs. He wants to stay in the emotion, hang on to the anger and ennui longer, but something about Bobby’s response won’t let him. Maybe it’s the hope; he’s not entirely sure. Either way, he lets the older man lead him back out of the darkness.

“What about the menu?”

Evan is struggling to sit still in Dr. Callahan’s office the next morning. Her nurse has already been in to remove all the leads and take the small machine, but the whole process has been exhausting.

Tommy lays a hand over his knee and squeezes lightly.

“Breathe,” he reminds him gently. “I can hear your heart racing from here.”

Evan scowls at him. “It’s only a little high right now.”

Tommy shoots him a look that spells out don’t try to bullsh*t me. Evan sighs.

The door opens a moment alter, and Dr. Callahan walks in, carrying the small machine.

“Evan, it’s good to see you,” she greets cordially. “Tommy.”

They both nod at her as she rounds her desk and sits down.

“I got a chance to look over the results of your ECG,” she tells them. “And I’m sure you know this already, but you do have runs of tachycardia and super-ventricular tachycardia, due to the placement of the aneurysm.”

Evan nods, resting his hand over Tommy’s where it’s still sitting on his knee.

“Yeah, m-my friend, she’s in medical school, a-and she said something about beta blockers?” He asks.

Dr. Callahan sits back in her chair and nods.

“Normally that would be the route we take,” she replies. “The problem with doing so with your case is that you have to titrate up onto them, and we need a certain amount of time to achieve that, because it then carries through surgery and recovery.”

“So it’s not an option,” Tommy inquires.

“It’s not the preferred one,” Dr. Callahan explains. “What I’d prefer to do—and I fully appreciate you’re not going to love this—but given your situation, I’d like to put you back on a monitor and have you come in twice a week to check the results. First, because I want to see if there are patterns in the activation and continuation of the tachycardia. And also, to see if it’s becoming more frequent.”

Evan huffs. “I have to wear that thing for three weeks?”

Dr. Callahan shakes her head. “No. We have what’s called a patch monitor. It’s about the length of your finger and slightly wider, sticks right onto your chest, and can go for two weeks on one charge. Unlike a lot of the options out there, it also doesn’t require you to push any buttons, either. Once we turn it on, you’re set to go and it will do the rest of the work for us.”

Evan grimaces. He glances over at Tommy for a moment, and then back at Dr. Callahan.

“I guess I don’t really have an option, do I?”

“I mean you do,” she replies. “But it’s the hospital. This solution at least keeps you at home for the next few weeks.”

Tommy squeezes his knee again, and although Evan doesn’t love it, he eventually nods.

Dr. Callahan nods then. “I’m going to go get everything processed and get the monitor,” she tells them. “Sit tight.”

When she leaves the room, Evan slumps back against the chair, dropping his head back again.

“This is f*cking miserable,” he states out loud. He looks over at Tommy, frustration clear in both his expression and tone. “Are we done yet? Is it over?”

Tommy squeezes his knee gently. He’s not going to antagonize him or try to say anything. He’s not sure there is a right way to make Evan feel better about the whole issue at this point.

“So I have some news,” Dr. Callahan states when she comes back into the room a few minutes later. Evan closes his eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh. The tone of her voice is clear in the fact that whatever the news is, he’s probably not going to like it.

“What?” He asks.

She comes back into view as Evan opens his eyes, looking up at her as she leans against her desk.

“Your insurance doesn’t cover the cost of the event monitor,” she explains. “There’s a requirement for pre-authorization that we don’t have time for, and even then, there are deductibles and copay costs associated.”

“What does that mean,” Tommy asks, chiming in for the first time.

Evan spots the holter monitor in Dr. Callahan’s hand and groans.

“It means I have to wear that stupid thing again, doesn’t it?”

Dr. Callahan frowns at him. “I can justify medically necessary use for a Holter monitor over a cardiac event monitor. And with you coming in twice a week, I can reissue the necessary need for it up through surgery without any requirement of extra costs associated.” She pauses for a moment, letting him process his frustrations. “I know you don’t need me to tell you, but the alternative is spending the next few weeks in the hospital. This way ensures you can stay home, unless we start seeing fluctuations in your heart.”

Evan groans again. Tommy’s hand leaves his knee and cups the back of his head, looking over at him with an understanding expression.

“What do you want to do,” Tommy asks when Evan finally looks over at him. Evan huffs again, his scowl so deeply set in his features Tommy’s worried his face might actually get stuck that way. Evan glances back towards Dr. Callahan.

“Fine. Put the damn monitor back on.”

Evan’s mood is foul at best. Tommy does his best to contend with hit, keep him occupied in other ways that don’t have him focused so much on himself, but it’s tough. They can’t do anything that creates any kind of physical exertion, sex is off the table, and it’s more than clear that Evan is too distracted by his own thoughts to spend more than five minutes reading at a time.

At first, it’s just busy work. Moving dishes around in cupboards because Evan’s been talking about it for months, and it gives him something to occupy his mind with. Then it’s talk about seriously redoing their main bathroom once the surgery is done. That’s another project they’ve been discussing for months, but they hadn’t started putting plans together yet because they were trying to get through the wedding first. Still, with the sudden open availability to one another and weeks of time off ahead of them, it’s something to talk about. Something to focus on.

Then it’s the reconfiguring of the menu for their wedding. Then a discussion about how they should landscape their garden, if it’s too late into the season to start because that’s a low-impact task that Evan could do without complication. The talk about repainting the fence in the yard, and if they should still get a pool for the back yard because they’ve been talking about that for a year now and Jee keeps asking about one, and, and, and…

And it lasts three days. Three days of Tommy placating him, even though Evan’s mood never changes, never lifts. Three days of him staying silent, constantly feeling like he’s dancing on the edge of a razor, just waiting for the cut to come. Three days and realizing they still have sixteen more to go before surgery happens, and that’s all based on the idea that the insurance doesn’t reject the plan Dr. Callahan and Dr. Tomlin submitted together.

They’re just getting back from his check-up. Evan is off on a tangent about someone who cut them off in traffic on their way back home, and why did Tommy brake for them when the guy didn’t deserve the room, and it’s all bullsh*t and nobody seems to give a f*ck about anyone else.

And Tommy cracks.

“Alright!”

Evan barely flinches at the way the word scratches out of Tommy’s throat, booming and raw. Still, when he looks over at him, Tommy’s expression is exasperated and his fists are clenched at his sides.

“Did I do something?” He asks, but he’s not sad or scared. He’s still just as moody as ever.

Tommy huffs, turning towards him fully. He forces himself to uncurl his fists, flex his fingers out because it’s not actually Evan, and he knows that.

“I get it, okay?” He tells him. “You’re scared. And you’re pissed. You need something to take it out on. But I did not do this to you, and it’s not fair that I keep getting the onslaught of it. You think I don’t feel the same way? That I’m not mad, or scared, or don’t want to break things?”

Evan stares at him, unmoving and unresponsive, which doesn’t really do a whole lot to help Tommy feel like he’s being heard.

He’s not entirely sure what comes over him because of that, but something does. He crosses the space between them, past where Evan is standing, about a foot away from the kitchen island, and grabs the glass bowl of fruit off of it. He flips it over, dumping oranges, bananas, and apples all onto the counter.

And then he turns, lifts his hands over his head, and heaves. Glass crashes down into the hardwood, splintering and shattering in every direction, scattering across their floor. Evan’s face gives these little twitches, some semblance of the emotion buried deep underneath all of the rage that seems consistently to be simmering just beneath the surface.

Tommy doesn’t know what to expect then. Evan doesn’t speak, doesn’t look up at him. It takes more than a minute before he finally moves, walks over to where there are dishes drying on a towel on the counter.

He picks up a glass and bounces it a few times in his hand, looks over at Tommy briefly, their eyes making contact for only a second or two; and then he lifts and turns his hand, throws the glass into the floor, and watches it scatter in pieces across the floor. Tommy nods then, sees some of the tension release out of Evan’s shoulders at the decision.

He picks up a second one, face twitching with more anger surfacing, lifts his arm higher and throws harder. There’s a growl that passes through his teeth as he does, one full of pain and rage, like he’s been bottling it for years, just waiting to blow.

It’s as he’s throwing the third one that he finally cracks. An actual scream passes through his lips, laced with anguish and defeat, and Tommy’s at his side instantly, looping an arm beneath his ribs as the monitor starts to beep, indicating his heart rate is out of normal range—something the last one he’d been on didn’t do. Evan grips his tricep tightly then as Tommy pulls him into his chest, keeps him upright.

“Okay,” he rasps, running his free hand down the back of Evan’s head. “Alright.”

Evan leans against him then, and it’s the first time he’s been willing to do so in days. Tommy lets out a soft sigh of his own, hand still stroking down the back of his head as he presses his lips against the blonde’s temple, letting him breathe through the anger and increased heart rate.

It doesn’t pass quickly, and after a minute, Tommy can’t hold the both of them up. He looks around the floor in the space around them, ensures there’s no glass close enough to hurt either of them, and then lowers both of them to the ground, planting himself up against the island and then pulling Evan back into his chest.

“You’re right,” Evan mutters after a while, leaning his head back onto Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy pulls the machine off of Evan’s hip, lifts it to ensure his heart rate is back down before he settles his arm across Evan’s torso, still holding the machine. “I am pissed. All the time.”

“I know,” Tommy replies softly. “And I’m fine with letting you feel that way; it’s valid and you should be. But not at my expense. At least not all of it.”

“It shouldn’t be any of it,” Evan admits, turning his head where it’s rested under Tommy’s shoulder to look up at him. “I know that you didn’t have any part of all this happening. Like, I know that.”

“But I’m here,” Tommy finishes for him.

Evan nods, his gaze shifting off towards the baker’s rack on the other side of the room. “And you’re safe.”

Tommy gulps at that statement and all the things not vocalized out loud in it. Evan being so mad that he’d lose it at home and not anywhere else because home can’t leave him. Evan still not calling his parents because he’s used to them only showing up after something has happened and just for the easiest part of it. Evan not telling his friends how upset he really is about everything because they might just do something stupid like tell him to calm down.

Evan holding all of his anger in for Tommy because no matter what form he lets it out in, Tommy will stay and love him through it. Evan feeling safe enough to finally let someone see beneath the mask.

Evan’s eyes slip shut, and Tommy runs his fingers back into his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He knows they’re stuck there for at least a few minutes while Evan’s body finds a way to muster the energy to get back up. He tightens his arm lightly around the younger man’s torso and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“‘m sorry,” Evan mutters, tilting more into Tommy’s chest.

“Mm-mm,” Tommy hums back. “Take your time.”

Tommy holds him there, taking long, measured breaths as Evan dozes against him. Its a weird thing to acknowledge—the fact that something like this will probably never happen again where they find themselves in such a position, curled up on the floor together. It’s such a subtle form of intimacy and safety, and it’s not lost on him that Evan must have a lot of faith in him in order to be in that spot with him, trust him to stay.

So Tommy just sits and watches him, holding on a little tighter when Evan’s head nods down, giving in to the exhaustion. Every now and then, he glances down at the heart monitor to ensure things are still normal, but otherwise stays curled up with him, nuzzling his head against the back of Evan’s skull, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. It keeps his own heart rate calm, being able to smell him and touch him, knowing that at least for the moment, he’s still alive and safe.

Some twenty minutes go by before Evan starts to stir, lifts his head off of the inside of Tommy’s bicep and hums softly as his eyes open back up. Tommy waits until Evan lifts his head, catches his gaze. He smiles down at him as he strokes his thumb along the back of the blonde’s skull.

“Hi,” he whispers. Evan blinks slowly, wearily.

“So tired,” he murmurs. Tommy kisses his birthmark.

“I know. Let’s get you back to bed.”

They’re curled up on the couch four days later when the phone rings. Evan is dozing while Tommy reads; the TV on mostly for ambient sound. Tommy reaches for the phone on the side table, glances at the screen before passing it to Evan.

“Dr. Tomlin’s office,” he states.

Evan groans softly, sits up on the couch as he answers the call, shifting so that his legs are over the side of the couch.

“Hello,” he rasps.

“Evan Buckley?”

“Currently speaking,” he responds.

“Mr. Buckley, this is Olivia with Dr. Tomlin’s office. I’m one of his nurses,” she explains. “We’re reaching out because we’ve received a response from your insurance rejecting the prior authorization for surgery.”

Panic floods down Evan’s body like someone just dumped ice down his back at her words.

“W-what?” His mouth is dry, and suddenly Tommy is upright next to him like someone just shoved a rod down his spine.

“This is unfortunately common,” she continues. “And it’s not the end of the line. Dr. Tomlin and Dr. Callahan are both working on putting together a response from our side of things. But we think it would be beneficial for you to call your benefits manager and see if we can’t get things moving from that end as well. Dr. Tomlin really doesn’t want to pull you from the schedule and the next open slot isn’t for three months.”

The phone slides out of Evan’s hand at her words. Three months of continued heart problems. Ninety days during which his heart would continue to weaken, beat improperly, risk rupturing.

Tommy picks up the phone and asks to have things explained to him, then continues talking to the nurse as Evan sits there, struggling not to hyperventilate. He feels like he’s under water, can’t see or hear anything. Everything is buzzing, his face is tingling, his mouth feels dry-

“Evan. Evan!”

Tommy is shaking his shoulders, and it takes a few seconds for him to realize he must’ve passed out from the way his fiancé is staring down at him, concern flooded over his features. Tommy lets out a loud, relieved breath, shaking his head.

“I can’t wait three months, Tommy,” he rasps as he sits back up.

Tommy is already scrolling through his phone, lifting it to his ear.

“We’re not. We’re calling Peter and he’s gonna make this happen,” he replies, referring to the department’s benefits manager.

“How-..”

“Insurance tried to block that too,” he explains. “Said it wasn’t a necessary surgery because it wasn’t a full tear. Peter made it happen.”

Evan raises an eyebrow at him, but a moment later, there’s talking on the other end of the phone line.

“Peter Jones,” Tommy asks. A beat later he’s talking again. “Hi, Peter. Tommy Kinard. You might remem-… yeah. No, I’m good, but my fiancé just got rejected for emergent heart surgery.”

Tommy’s quiet then, and there’s beats of silence on the other end of the line followed by occasional nods coming from the older man as Peter talks to him.

“No, that’s what I thought,” he replies, reaching for Evan’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “They told Evan it could be three months if this doesn’t happen and his doctor doesn’t seem to think that’s medically responsible.” Another beat of silence, followed by more talking on the other end of the line. “Okay, so should we call the union rep, or-… no, okay, cool. What’s the wait on this then? Because he’s scheduled in twelve days.”

Evan watches him intently, and a few seconds later, Tommy is hanging up the phone, setting it back on the coffee table beside him.

“What’d he say,” he asks nervously. Tommy actually smiles at him.

“The insurance company doesn’t know what’s about to hit them,” Tommy tells him, calm exuding off of him. “Peter said he’s gonna try and get it all pushed through tonight so we’re not waiting. I guess the doctors office already sent over all of your tests—including the newest ones. His assistant was getting the union on the phone too to make some calls on your behalf, and based on how things went when I had to fight? It’s not going to end well in the insurance’s favor.”

Evan sinks back against the couch, sighs softly. “Great. Because I don’t have two hundred thousand dollars for the surgery and hospital stay.”

Tommy moves back onto the couch and pulls him in, kissing the side of his head. “I know baby. But they’ve got this.”

The phone rings at ten AM the next morning. They’re still in bed, limbs still half-tangled. Tommy is curled on his side next to Evan, who’s resigned to having to sleep flat on his back thanks to the leads taped to his chest. Evan is still snoozing when Tommy answers, lifts the phone to his ear, as he instinctively checks the heart monitor, even though he can see Evan’s chest rising and falling.

“Hello,” he murmurs, his voice gruff from sleep.

“Mr. Kinard? Peter Jones,” the other man states from the other end of the line.

“Please tell me you have good news,” Tommy rasps, rubbing his eyes.

“Only. We got the approval paperwork through first thing this morning. I’m sure the hospital will be in touch later in the day if they need anything else. Please let me or my assistant know if we can be of help in any other way.”

Tommy breathes a sigh of relief past he knot catching in his throat.

“Nope, that’ll do for now,” he replies, his voice strained. “Thanks for this, Peter. Thank you for making sure he’s gonna live through this.”

“Just doing my part, Mr. Kinard,” the other man replies. “Good luck.”

Tommy ends the call a minute later and sets the phone back down on the nightstand. Evan groans softly at the movement on the bed, but doesn’t totally rouse.

“s’goin’on,” he slurs, eyes still closed. Tommy leans over and kisses his forehead.

“Just getting you approved for surgery,” he murmurs softly. “Go back to sleep.”

In the week before surgery, they start preparing. Part of that is medical; Evan visits the dentist, and they give him the all-clear. They spend a full day at the hospital, during which Evan is particularly grouchy because no food is allowed while they run more tests, both of which are to get a better mapping of his heart prior to surgery. The test in question—a transesophageal cardiogram—allows the doctors to get a better view of the aorta, which Dr. Tomlin explains to both of them will help him better plan when they go in. He also mentions the need to have a cardiac catheterization but ensures that that test is a day-of option.

They compile a shopping list and stock up on essentials. Tommy also buys him a new Kindle and loads it with plenty of reading options. They actually plant flowers in the garden.

Five days before, they take a trip up the coast. Evan isn’t bursting with energy, and he’s definitely sleeping almost as much as he’s awake at that point, but he wants to go. They’ve made plans to spend the day with their loved ones, and it’s warm enough outside that Jee can play in the water.

“Where’s your head at,” Tommy asks as they sit in traffic on the 405.

Evan shrugs, looking down at their interlaced fingers over the center console.

“Kinda starting to freak out about the surgery,” he admits softly. “I mean, I stopped looking at all the statistics. But the actual process of what they’re going to do… I don’t know. I’m still not entirely sure on the option for which valve.”

Tommy squeezes his fingers gently. “You don’t have to decide that yet. And given the way you fought them after your leg, I’m pretty sure if you really wanted to, you could fight the city to go back if you decide on mechanical. I’d back you, anyway.”

Evan nods, glancing down at the denim button-up shirt he’s wearing. He’s been resigned to them as his only option for the past two weeks, and while he knows he’s not quite done with wearing clothes that have open access to his chest, he’s still ready for this to be done.

“Besides,” Tommy interjects, cutting through his thoughts. “I’ve been reassigned to Bobby Nash’s school of thought that optimism is the only way through this. So there’s no other option.”

Evan chuckles softly, nods. The monitor beeps on his belt and he groans at it.

“Shut up, I’m fine,” he mutters. Tommy laughs and squeezes his hand again.

They make it up to the beach about an hour later, and half the group has already arrived. Given Evan’s energy levels though, once they make it down into the sand, he pretty much plants himself in a space with Jee-Yun to build sandcastles. His people crowd around him, not letting him work for anything as Harry and May help wrangle the younger kids up and down the beach. He’s midway through adding a tower to his castle when Jee suddenly takes off for the water, leaving him building by himself as Tommy takes off after her.

“Hey, Buck!”

He glances up against the brightness of the sun and smiles as May steps into the light, blocking it from blinding his gaze.

“Hey, May,” he replies back. She sinks down in the sand next to him.

“You doin’ okay?” She asks.

Evan glances over at her, settling the bucket he's been using aside. “Your mom told you?”

May tilts her head at him. “Bobby, actually. I don’t know why that should be surprising though; mom’s always said he brought one kid into the marriage.”

Evan stares at her for a beat, initially confused. When it dawns on him that she’s referring to him, his cheeks flush. For as much as he views Bobby in more of a dad role than he’s ever seen his own father, the older man typically still holds a boundary between them. Not that Evan could really blame him; he knows the hell that Bobby has been through, losing his own children.

“I’m, I’m doing okay, May,” he replies after a moment, a sheepish smile on his face. “Managing.”

She nods at him, smiling back. “Good. Because you know you have to live through this surgery, right?”

Evan chuckles then. “Absolutely.”

Tommy strides back up the beach a few moments later carrying Italian ice. He drops into the spot next to Evan on his opposite side and passes him one.

“Maddie’s got Jee by the water,” he states. He glances towards May and gives her a cordial smile. They’ve met a few times, but the age difference between them hasn’t allowed for much more than just a passing hello here and there. Still, May is aware enough of his presence in Evan and Bobby’s lives to at least be accepting of his presence.

“I’m gonna go get some of that Italian Ice,” she states after a moment, pushing herself up off the sand. “I’ll see you soon, Buck.”

She leaves them then, and both men pick at the dessert. Tommy finishes his but Evan only gets through about half of his before he gives up on it and pushes it aside.

“How you holding up,” Tommy asks him once he’s thrown away their cups.

Evan shrugs, leaning back on his elbows on the sand. He’s exhausted, but he’s not about to admit it. Everyone had made the trip specifically for him, and he doesn't want to be the first one to leave.

“You know we don’t have to stay all afternoon,” Tommy reminds him. Whether he can actually read what’s going on inside the blonde’s head or just knows what to expect at this point, Evan’s not entirely clear. “No one actually expects you to be bursting with energy.”

Evan nods, looking back up at Tommy. It would be a lie to say that his chest didn’t hurt—his chest always hurt now—or that he didn’t feel like he was in a permanent state of exhaustion. He was even more sure of the fact that if approval for the surgery hadn’t come through and he’d been forced to wait months, he wouldn’t make it. His body simply didn’t have the ability to hold up against everything happening inside of it.

“You want to go,” Tommy asks him a minute later.

Evan sighs softly, looking back up at him. “No. And yes.”

Tommy nods then. He brushes a thumb against Evan’s cheek and then moves onto his knees before standing up.

“I’m gonna go tell everyone, and then pack everything up,” he tells Evan. He opens his mouth to say something else, but the words seem to die in his mouth as Bobby strolls up.

“You two getting ready to go,” the older man asks, glancing between them.

“I think so,” Evan replies.

“I’m gonna go tell everyone else,” Tommy explains.

Bobby nods. “I’ll walk Buck up to the car.”

Tommy passes his keys over to the older man before leaning down again to help his fiancé up from the ground. Evan grabs his abandoned sandals from the ground and starts walking in the direction of the parking lot, Bobby following alongside him.

They’re halfway up the beach when Bobby finally speaks.

“You ready for this week?”

Evan looks over at him, contemplative. Bobby might be the only other person beyond Tommy that he’s comfortable with getting so emotionally naked with.

“I’m scared,” he admits softly. “I know the doctor doing it says it’s routine surgery at this point and that everything should be fine, but-..”

“It’s still your heart,” Bobby finishes for him. “Kinda can’t live without it.”

Evan lets out a small laugh. “Exactly.”

Bobby nods, placing a hand between Evan’s shoulderblades as they continue up the sand.

“I think you’re gonna make it through just fine, Buck,” he tells him assuredly. “In a year, this will have just been a blip.”

Evan looks over at Bobby again as they reach the pavement.

“I ju…” He stops talking, shakes his head at himself. He doesn’t know what’s too much to say and what’s not enough, but he definitely doesn’t want to go into surgery feeling like he’s left things unsaid.

“What?” Bobby asks, looking back over at him. At that moment, Evan’s irregular heartbeat decides to make itself known as the monitor starts to beep. Bobby shakes his head and slips an arm under Buck. “Alright, come on.”

Tommy has the truck parked nearby thankfully, and they make it to the vehicle fairly quickly. Bobby opens the back gate and Evan sits down on it, taking deep breaths as Bobby goes into the cab of the truck and finds him fresh bottled water. He returns to Evan a few seconds later, and the blonde downs half the bottle before settling it on the bed of the truck.

“You good,” Bobby asks when the monitor stops beeping.

Evan nods.

“So you were saying, then,” Bobby prompts him.

Evan presses his mouth together, furrows his brow. “Look, Cap, I…I mean I know you-…that-that you’ve lost-..”

“Hey, if this is in reference to what I think it is, everything’s fine,” Bobby states, cutting him off.

“I just- I know-…” Evan shakes his head at himself. Bobby may not be above telling him that he’s proud of him, but for all the things that have ever passed between them in conversations, ‘I love you’ has not been one of them. Even if they both know it.

“Am I scared?” Bobby asks him rhetorically. “Scared sh*tless, kid. You’re right. I’ve lost in this life. I’ve lost a lot. And something happening to you would leave a Buck-sized hole in my life. That’s not really something I have even the slightest inkling of how to contend with.”

Evan nods at Bobby’s words, staring down at his own hands.

“Look, I know I told you once that we weren’t family,” Bobby tells him, resting a hand on Evan’s shoulder. The gesture makes him look back up at the older man. “And I meant it at the time. But this is not nine years ago. We’ve all pulled one another back from the edge more than once, and I’m not the only one who would notice you not being around. And I know you’re going through a lot right now between the surgery and all that comes along with it. But there are a lot of people who are holding out for you to pull through this. People who love you a lot.”

Bobby squeezes his shoulder tightly with the last line, and Evan nods, swallows past the knot the words put in his throat. He stands up off the gate and Bobby pulls him into a tight hug, one that makes his chest hurt even more, but he’s not about to complain about it.

“You gotta hold on, kid,” Bobby murmurs against the side of his head. “Gotta come out the other side of this.”

Evan nods again, lets out an emotional breath. “Doin’ my best, Cap.”

Evan steps back when he finally sees Tommy come into view from the beach. Bobby pats his shoulder once more, and once Tommy reaches them, he passes the other man on his way back down to the rest of the group.

“Everything alright,” Tommy asks as he shoves their things into he back of his truck.

Evan nods, walking around him and running a hand up Tommy’s back as he opens the door to the passenger side of the vehicle.

“Just saying I love you,” he replies.

Three days before surgery, he wakes up miserable. Everything hurts, he’s nauseated, and no matter what he does, he can’t get comfortable. Tommy is still asleep when he wakes up, barely past six AM, and he has to drag himself into the bathroom where he plants himself on the floor, curled up against the cold plastic of outside of the bathtub.

He can’t fall back asleep, even though he’s too exhausted to be awake. It puts him in this weird middle ground where, when he’s not awake getting sick, he’s half-asleep in the terrible accommodations of their ensuite bathroom. He desperately wants an ice bath, thinks maybe that might help, but doesn’t have the energy to make it happen.

Tommy wakes up to his lack of presence around eight, reaching out to find the opposite side of the bed empty. He’s initially both confused and panicked but within seconds can hear the retching from the bathroom. He bolts from the bed, crossing the room in five quick strides, before he finds Evan curled over the toilet, crying between waves of illness.

“Baby,” he lilts as he perches beside him, runs his hand down Evan’s spine. He tilts his head at the blonde, lifting his other hand and brushing it through Evan’s hair. He’s sweat-matted, but not feverish.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Evan sobs, followed by coughing that turns into getting sick again. Tommy frowns, sits down beside him and strokes his hand through his hair through it.

“I know,” he replies softly when Evan finally gets a reprieve. He opens the linen closet and pulls out a fresh washcloth, wets it with lukewarm water and starts wiping down his head and neck. “Just a few more days.”

Evan shakes his head, looking up at Tommy with the kind of pitiful eyes usually reserved for toddlers. His jaw clenches staring at his fiancé in that state, knowing he can’t do anything about it.

Another round of sickness starts, bringing a higher heart rate with it, if the monitor is anything to go by. Tommy leaves the room in the midst of it, only to return a minute later with a large bowl, which he sits on the floor before sitting down with his back to the wall across from the toilet. He pulls Evan to him as the blonde openly cries, and Tommy doesn’t try to stop him. He can’t even fathom how miserable he must’ve already been feeling through the whole process, and the nausea and vomiting has only continued to get worse over the past few days. Even with the surgery in less than a week, that’s still a long time to wait.

“Everything hurts,” he hiccups as his head drops back on Tommy’s shoulder, eyes closed.

“I know, baby,” Tommy murmurs to him. He reaches into the bucket he brought from the kitchen. “Maybe this might help?”

Evan doesn’t open his eyes, but can hear the sound of dripping water. A moment later, Tommy brings the wet cloth down on his skin, and he shudders at first. The cloth has been soaked in ice water, but with the way the tachycardia is overheating him, the cold is comforting.

“My face,” Evan rasps as Tommy slides the cloth down the center of his chest. Tommy moves the cloth back into the water, rings it out again, and then lifts it to Evan’s forehead, making gentle wipes across his skin. Evan sighs against him, seemingly relaxing at the cold condensation on his skin.

“Is it helping,” Tommy asks him. Even though he knows Evan isn’t running a fever, his cheeks are flushed so red that they’re nearly the same color as his birthmark.

Evan hums affirmatively. Tommy continues to use the cloth to cool him down for a few minutes as Evan dozes against him, clearly too wrung out from the way his morning started. He waits until Evan’s breathing has calmed and the tears have slowed before he speaks.

“Think you can make it back to bed?”

“Just a little bit longer,” Evan replies weakly. He grabs at Tommy’s arms and pulls them around his body, and Tommy is only too happy to oblige snuggling him if it will make him feel better. Evan buries his face against his fiancé’s shoulder as Tommy’s thumbs stroke over his hips, murmuring soft, sweet nothings to him.

He knows Evan falls asleep after a few minutes, and the fact that this is the second time they’ve found themselves in this position makes him emotional. He’d be lying to say he hasn’t enjoyed moments in their relationship when Evan was ill and, as a result, let his walls down enough to just let Tommy take care of him. Even after two years, for as much as Evan lets him in more than he does anyone else, he still fights being completely vulnerable. The fact that this entire situation with his health has forced him to be isn't lost on Tommy either. If anything, it makes him feel selfish for ever relishing in a situation where Evan would give more of himself because he’s not able to remove himself from the vulnerability.

The time spent curled up on the floor is longer this time. Tommy does his best not to jostle Evan too much even though the floor is uncomfortable as hell and he's concerned about being stuck there causing the younger man more pain than he’s already in. He hasn’t complained about his leg in nearly three weeks, and Tommy’s used to hearing about causing him at least minor discomfort once or twice a week. He doesn’t really believe that the damaged limb has suddenly stopped causing Evan pain, so much so that everything happening in his chest is currently overriding the usual issues.

Still, after a while, Tommy feels the way Evan’s heart starts racing under his skin, and then the monitor is beeping to alert them. Whether it’s the beeping or the discomfort, Tommy isn’t entirely sure, but Evan groans, though that quickly fades into a whine as he resurfaces from unconsciousness.

“Shh,” Tommy coaxes softly. “I’ve got you.” He reaches for the ice water again, grabs the cloth and starts rubbing it gently over Evan’s chest once more. Although it doesn’t stop the rapid heart rate or constant ache, it does dull it just a little.

When the monitor stops beeping again, Tommy puts the cloth back and shifts slightly, so he can see Evan’s face.

“Back to bed now,” he asks.

Evan only whimpers in response. Tommy gently eases him forward and slides himself out of the space behind him, picking up the bowl and dumping it in the sink before he leans back down and picks Evan up off the floor. He tries to actively ignore the fact that Evan is lighter than he’s ever been the entire stretch of their relationship. Before they’d known about the aneurysm, Tommy figured he’d just hit his stride in his conditioning. At that point, it hadn’t been more than five, maybe ten pounds. He looked good. But in the past month, between his declining health and intermittently high heart rate, it had gotten worse. And while he wasn’t as bad as some of the reading Tommy had done in his downtime in relation to weight loss caused by aneurysms, it still didn’t help with how scared he was for Evan to come out on the other side of the whole situation.

He gets him settled back into bed, fluffing his pillows back up and passing him the remote for the TV before going off to retrieve supplies. He doesn’t have a whole lot of hope that Evan will actually keep much down, given how that’s been a struggle for him for days now, but he has to at least try to keep him hydrated.

Once he has everything gathered up, he heads back into the bedroom, loads up the nightstand on Evan’s side of the bed. He’s about to ask him if he wants to watch a movie, but when he looks back down at him, the blonde is already out again, fast asleep.

The last few days are rough, mostly spent in bed. Tommy does his best to solidify their plans for the days following the surgery, knowing they won’t be home for a while. Based on everything they know, Evan is looking at roughly a week in the hospital, and Tommy isn’t entirely sure he wants to leave him there alone. However, he also knows that at some point he’ll have to leave for one reason or another, which requires coordination with their friends.

There’s also the discussion over talking to the Buckley parents, especially given the fact that Evan has been very clear on his wishes for them to not be there prior to the surgery taking place. While Maddie has mentioned it more than once, it only took Evan getting upset at the suggestion of their presence once for Tommy to tell her that she needed to, at the very least, wait until after the surgery had started before she even considered calling them.

Still, as the hours wind down under twenty-four, Evan is more and more restless, and Tommy isn’t faring much better. The anxiety in their home is palpable, tense enough that somene could cut it with a knife.

“I feel like I need to apologize,” Tommy tells him as he shuffles the duffel bag apart for the fourth time. Everything fits fine, but he can’t decide on a proper order, or if there’s more he should be adding.

Evan glances up from his phone, mid-conversation via text with Eddie. “Hmm? For what?”

Tommy sits down on the edge of the bed, looking mildly defeated.

“There have been times in the past where I took… I don’t want to say joy, but…when you were sick, and you’d let me take care of you,” he explains. “Before all of this.”

Evan nods slowly.

“I realize I didn’t actually wish this whole situation upon us, but it still makes me feel like an asshole,” he admits.

“I mean, unless you have the power to control lightning and you’ve been hiding that from me this entire time, I don’t blame you,” Evan replies after a minute. He gestures at the space between them. “I know that I haven’t always made getting to the nitty gritty parts of me easy here. But I would also be lying if I said I haven’t taken enjoyment out of those same situations with you.”

Tommy looks up at him like a surprised, nervous chlid. “Really?”

Evan flushes, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, Tommy. I mean don’t get me wrong, cleaning up vomit isn’t fun, but when you got the flu last year? That’s the most you ever let me dote on you, and I loved it. A lot.”

Tommy chuckles softly, pink dusting across his cheeks.

“So I guess we could both be better about leaning on each other,” Tommy comments.

Evan shrugs, although there’s still a smile on his face. “I mean I guess. But I think at this point, you owe me weeks of letting me take care of you after this is all said and done.”

“Oh, I’ll let you take care of me,” Tommy states, turning his attention back towards restuffing the duffel bag.

Evan narrows his gaze at his fiancé “Really?” His voice lilts curiously.

Tommy waggles his eyebrows at him. “Absolutely.”

Evan laughs at him and he shakes his head. When Tommy finishes restuffing the bag, he finally drops it onto the floor and then moves around the bed, settling into his side. Evan places his phone on the nightstand and stares across the room for a tick. Tommy looks up at him as he finally gets into a comfortable position, curious.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“You know I hate not having sex,” Evan murmurs, looking over at Tommy. The older man nods.

“I’m well aware,” Tommy replies. “It’s how you connect.”

Evan nods back at him. “Used to be the only way I knew how to. And even after…”

“There’s nothing wrong with the fact that sex is a love language,” Tommy states. “I never said I don’t enjoy it, so please don’t take our current predicament as me saying that. As much as we both hate the term ‘making love’, I can own that’s what it is we’re doing, and I can appreciate how hard that must be for you not to be able to right now. It’s not exactly easy for me, either.”

Evan lets out a long breath at Tommy’s confession.

“Making you feel good emotionally and physically is one of my favorite parts of being with you,” Tommy tells him. “But it’s not everything.”

“Sometimes it is for me,” Evan rasps, his gaze locked on Tommy’s chest. Tommy doesn’t respond, waits for him to continue. The blonde looks back up at him. “Not in a ‘that’s all I’m here for’ kind of way. But…like you said, it’s how I connect. It’s how I make sense of things. Sometimes it feels like the entire world is just spinning chaos, but being naked with you…I don’t know. It fills a void that I didn’t even notice until we were together the first time. And now that I can’t have it, that void is all I feel.” His gaze shifts away as he talks, never completely away from Tommy but not able to meet his eyes from the weight of the words coming out of his mouth.

“It grounds you,” Tommy surmises softly. Evan looks up at him again, nods.

“Yeah. Nothing else feels safer or even comes close to comparing to it.”

Tommy sighs as his expression softens at him. He gulps and drops back against the pillow, presses a fist into his forehead.

“What?”

Tommy groans softly. “It’s taking everything in me right now not to dick you down right this second.”

Evan laughs quietly. “I’m sorry. Mostly.”

Tommy huffs after a moment and then rolls back over, resting a hand on Evan’s torso and kissing his birthmark.

“I think I’ll survive,” he admits with a small smirk. “But I love you, and I appreciate you being honest about all of it with me.”

Evan lets out a soft groan, staring back up at Tommy. “Well f*ck. That was my last hope before surgery.”

Tommy’s grin goes wide at that and he laughs, shaking his head at the younger man.

“You would try to convince me to f*ck you the night before open heart surgery,” he comments, still laughing. Evan rests his hand over Tommy’s, twisting the engagement ring on his finger lightly, the mirth and just the slightest bit of light glinting in his eyes.

“Had to give it a solid shot,” Evan states, smirking back at him.

Tommy lets out a soft, relieved breath, and then leans down and kisses him soft but full. Evan squeezes his fingers, lifting his head up off the pillow and leaning into the gesture, but it doesn’t last long, given his need for oxygen.

“Alright,” Tommy tells him, brushing a hand down through the blonde curls as Evan’s head falls back onto the pillow. “Heaven forbid I suggest such an option, but we should get some sleep. We’re gonna have to be up before the sun tomorrow.”

Evan nods, but he reaches for the pillows that have been stacked between them for weeks—the ones that are supposed to keep him flat on his back and from getting tangled in the wires to the monitor attached to him—and moves them out of the way.

“Cuddle with me tonight?” He asks, giving Tommy his best puppy eyes, not that he’d really have to.

Tommy nods, scooting over on the bed until their heads are on the same pillow, his arm draped across Evan’s waist. “Just for tonight.”

Chapter 4: you can save me from the man i've become

Chapter Text

Evan huffs, rolling over in the bed towards Tommy. It’s barely four AM.

“What’s wrong,” Tommy asks wearily, his voice laced with exhaustion. Evan’s restlessness hasn’t done much for him in the way of sleep either.

“I give up,” he rasps back. “I can’t sleep to save my own life, and I’m wide awake.”

Tommy nods, although he doesn’t move, at least not until Evan starts to sit up, pull at the leads on his chest.

“Alright,” Tommy groans, scrubbing a hand down his face as he pushes himself up from the bed. “Let’s go.”

Evan furrows his brow at him. “Let’s? I can shower by myself.”

“Sure,” Tommy acquiesces. “But those leads aren’t coming off by themselves. Or did you forget the mess we’ve been putting up with at the clinic?”

Evan looks down at his chest and scowls, but after a minute, he nods before moving off the bed. Tommy slides off of his own side and crosses the room to the bathroom faster than Evan does, digging through the medicine cabinet. He lets Evan walk past him and sit down on the closed toilet before turning, holding up acetone and cotton balls.

“We have nail polish remover,” Evan rasps, raising an eyebrow.

Tommy chuckles. “Did you forget painting your nails last year for Pride?”

Evan stares at the botle for a few moments as Tommy pours some of the liquid out onto a cotton ball. When he shakes out of his reverie, he turns off the monitor and then disconnects the wires. Tommy waits until Evan has finished and then starts working on getting the leads off with the cotton ball. It’s not a smooth transition, especially with the way it pulls on his chest hair, but after a few minutes, he’s managed to get them all removed. Once he’s finished, Tommy stands and reaches into the shower, turning it on.

Once the water is running, he steps aside and lets Evan undress, step into the stream. One of the projects they’d done in the last week was adding non-slip appliques to the floor, but even after Evan closes the curtain, Tommy sits down on the toilet, resting an arm against the sink and leaning his head against it.

“You should go back to bed,” Evan tells him over the spray of the water. “You can still get a few hours of sleep.”

“Mm-mm,” Tommy replies, eyes closed. “Not gonna let something happen to you right before surgery.”

Evan groans, but he doesn’t argue back. Tommy snoozes against the sink, wavering between consciousness and light sleep from the thrum of the water hitting the floor. Some ten minutes in, his eyes shoot open at the sound of skin sliding against the acrylic wall inside the shower.

“What’s going on,” he slurs, forcing his eyes open wide.

“Just sitting down for a moment,” Evan calls back. There are more sliding noises, but after a moment, it stops and he hears the sound of limbs settling on the ground. Tommy leans over and pulls the shower curtain back, checking in on him. Evan glances up at him, loofa in hand and suds half covering his chest. “I’m fine, babe. I swear.”

Tommy nods after a moment, glancing around the shelves of the shower. “You got the antimicrobial soap?”

Evan nods. Tommy drops the curtain back and leans back into the sink, rests his arm into his elbow. He’s still only half-conscious, but his hypervigilance is strong enough to keep him from dozing off for more than a minute or two at a time, popping his head up every few minutes to ensure that he can still hear Evan moving and breathing inside the shower.

It isn’t until he hears the shower curtain move that he finally sits up again, reaches a hand out for Evan to hold as he steps over the ledge of the bathtub. Evan’s wet fingers cling to his and Tommy passes him a fresh towel with his free hand.

“You should take one,” Evan murmurs once he’s wrapped his towel around his hips. He pauses in front of the mirror, and the way he’s staring at his reflection makes Tommy realize he’s probably looking at his chest. Tommy reaches out and squeezes his hand, causing Evan to look away from the reflection.

“Probably won’t have a chance in the next few days,” Evan continues, looking over at him. “Not exactly fooling myself to think you’re gonna come home anytime soon.”

Tommy lets out a soft chuckle, a small smile, and nods, pushing himself up to his feet. He leans over and kisses Evan’s cheek.

“I’ll be waiting in the bedroom,” Evan announces softly before turning and walking back into their room.

Tommy is far quicker. He sheds his clothes in seconds, steps into the stream of water, tilting his head back into it. As soon as he’s satisfied with the wetness of his hair, he’s scrubbing shower gel into it and down his body. He knows that Evan is too weak at this point to get himself dressed alone, and the longer he’s in the shower, the longer the blonde is sitting on their bed waiting and getting colder.

He’s out in under five minutes, wrapping himself in a towel of his own and in the bedroom. As he expected, Evan is sitting on the bed, running his fingers up and down over his chest. Tommy goes to the dresser, grabs the clothes he laid out for both of them the night before and then heads back over to the bed. He sets Evan’s clothes beside him and then dries himself of quickly, yanking on a pair of briefs and black joggers before he tosses his towel back into the bathroom and reaches for Evan’s clothes.

“I’m gonna be glad when I can dress myself again,” Evan murmurs as Tommy slides his pants up his legs. Tommy nods, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning forward and kissing Evan’s knee before he slides the pants high enough that they can both stand, Evan pulling them the rest of the way up as he does. Tommy leans in and kisses him chastely, brushing a thumb along his jaw briefly. They both shaved the night before, but shadow is already starting to come in.

“I should shave,” Tommy muses.

Evan shakes his head, grabbing a pinch of his chin and pulling him back in. “Leave it. You get sexier the more it grows.”

Tommy snorts softly against his lips, kissing him one more time quickly. He steps back a moment later and reaches for their shirts. He passes Evan the one he pulled out for him—one of Tommy’s old army shirts that he likes to sleep in—and then grabs the black henley he grabbed for himself and tugs it over his head.

Once they’re both fully dressed, Tommy starts going through the duffel bag again, making sure everything they need is packed. He double-checks for chargers, electronics, headphones, even extra underwear. Once he’s positive everything is together, he tugs the bag up his shoulder and turns towards Evan.

“You ready?” He asks timidly. He’s not entirely sure either of them will ever actually be ready for what’s about to take place, but they don’t really have a choice.

Evan takes Tommy’s extended hand and slides off the bed, letting out a contemplative sigh. “Not really. But I'm sure you want the good coffee before we get there.”

Tommy gives him a small smile. “More like need it.”

They make it to UCLA just before they’re scheduled to check-in. Between graveyard shift traffic and their stop for Tommy to get coffee, the extra time they had gets eaten up, and by the time they enter the lobby, Evan is practically vibrating with anxiety.

They get moved into a pre-op room fairly quickly, where Evan is changed into a gown for the first part of the day. Olivia, the nurse they’d spoken with weeks earlier, enters as he’s getting resettled into the bed while Tommy works on signing a million and one forms. She’s a short, petite woman, almost too young in Evan’s opinion. Her mahogany brown hair falls to her shoulders.

“Mr. Buckley,” she greets, walking over to the bed. “I’ve come to administer your IV. Dr. Tomlin is going to be in shortly to talk through everything for today. Is there anything I can get you before then?”

Evan shakes his head, barely flinching when she finally gets the IV started. The heart monitor beeps loudly nearby, and he does his best to ignore its continued showing of his anxiety. While she’s still working the door opens and Dr. Tomlin enters in his usual dark green scrubs.

“Evan, Tommy,” he greets affiliatively. He glances towards Evan’s vitals. “Olivia, can we get a starting dose of midazolam?”

“On it, Dr. Tomlin.”

The brunette finishes getting Evan settled and then moves to the med cart, typing on the computer for a few moments and then retrieving the drugs before she returns to Evan’s side and injects the medication into the line. Once she’s finished she drops the syringe into the hazardous waste and leaves the room.

“Alright, let’s cover everything one more time,” Dr. Tomlin states, walking over to the computer his nurse was just on. He types into it and clicks through a few screens, presumptively checking for any new information before he turns towards Evan and Tommy who are both still staring up at him, waiting.

“We’re going to start in the Cath lab,” he explains. “This is so I can see if we have any major blockages or issues before we go into surgery in a few hours. I’m planning to go in through your arm.” He gestures on the inside of Evan’s arm where the entrance is intended to be. “Once we’re finished with that, we’ve got about an hour wait before we go into surgery. This gives me some time to make any adjustments we might need to.”

“Is he going to be out already,” Tommy rasps, his throat tight with nerves.

“No,” Dr. Tomlin responds. “We won’t do that until we get into the theater. Now, once we get in there, it's going to be a number of hours, depending on how things go. And I also want you both to be prepared that when we come out, there’s going to be a number of tubes going in and out of your body, and you’ll be in the ICU for a day or two, but that’s normal.”

“So I’m gonna look like a crime scene,” Evan states breathily.

Dr. Tomlin lets out something akin to a small chuckle. “If that’s how you’d prefer to phrase it. But look, at the end of the day, most of those tubes are temporary for the first day or so. In a lot of ways, this surgery is just the first step to getting your back to where you need to be.”

Evan nods, squeezing Tommy’s hand tightly. Tommy squeezes back, lifts his hand to his mouth, kissing Evan’s fingers.

“Anything else I can cover for either of you,” he asks after a moment of silence. Evan and Tommy both look to one another but then shake their heads before looking back at the surgeon. He nods then. “Alright. I’m going to let Olivia know that she can come in and finish getting you prepped. I’ll see you in the Cath lab in a few minutes, Evan,” he states. He glances towards Tommy. “I’ll have regular updates for you throughout the day.”

Tommy nods back at the man, and when Dr. Tomlin exits the room, Tommy turns toward Evan.

“Feel like I should probably be panicking right now," Evan admits. “So I guess the drugs are working.”

Tommy nods, brushing his thumb on Evan's cheek as he stares at him pensively.

“You’re still gonna be here when I get out,” he rasps, finally looking up at Tommy. The older man frowns at him, leans forward and kisses him three times quickly.

“I’m not leaving, baby,” he tells him, pecking him once more. Evan grabs Tommy’s face and pulls him back in, taking an open-mouthed kiss.

“Promise,” he whimpers against Tommy’s mouth. Tommy runs his hand down the back of Evan’s head, presses their foreheads together.

“Couldn’t leave if I tried,” Tommy insists. He leans forward and kisses Evan once more quickly before settling back on the edge of the bed. He tilts his head towards his shoulder, eyes trailing Evan’s body like he's trying to memorize it. “I love you, Evan Buckley. So god damn much that you better come out of that surgery alive.”

Evan glances down then and a frown crosses his face.

“What?” Tommy asks.

Evan lifts his hand, thumbs at the tungsten engagement ring on his hand. Tommy takes a deep breath and nods. He reaches for it gently, twisting it lightly on Evan’s finger.

“I've got something for that, actually,” Tommy tells him. He slips off the bed and crosses the room to their duffel bag, digging through it for a moment until he finds a small box. He crosses back through the room a moment later and sits on the side of it, handing Evan the box. The blonde eyes it curiously before opening it. Inside is a simple black chain with a rhombus shape attached to it.

“It’s a ring holder,” he explains. “Figured it might be useful for the wedding rings.”

Evan nods, a small smile on his face. He reaches into the box and pulls the casing out, removes the rest chain from it. Once he has it out, Tommy reaches for his hand again, gently slides his ring off his finger, and then slides it over the chain until it rests on the widest part of the rhombus. Once it's settled, Tommy unclasps the necklace and wraps it around his neck, hooking it into place. Evan reaches up and touches it where it rests on the v-neck of his hoodie.

“There. Safe until you come back for it,” Tommy tells him.

If Evan has a response, he doesn’t get a chance to give it, because the door is opening then and multiple nurses are entering the room. He reaches out for the collar of Tommy’s hoodie—the black one that says ‘born to fly’ on it that Evan got for his birthday last year—and kisses him one more time. Tommy hums soflty against him before pulling away, moving off the bed. The nurses move around them, getting everything set to go before they’re wheeling Evan towards the door, Evan holding onto Tommy’s hand until the distance is too far for them to keep holding on.

Tommy stands in the room for a minute, forcing himself to breathe deeply. He’s spent weeks waiting for this day, waiting for not having to feel like he and Evan are trying to walk through a minefield. The problem is, now he feels like they’re standing right on top of it.

His phone chimes in his pocket, pulling him from his thoughts. He tugs it out and checks the message, and then walks out of the room, down the hall to the waiting room.

“Hi sweetie,” Maddie greets when she spots him come around the corner. She already has a fresh coffee for him in her hand, and he takes it gratefully. He’d finished his first one while they were still going through admissions.

“Thanks,” he murmurs to her, trying not to get too caught on the pet name. It’s not that he has an issue with it. He really doesn’t mind it, but he’s found that Maddie more typically uses them in less-than-comfortable situations, and it’s not doing anything to soothe his anxiety. He twists his coffee in his hands for a moment and then lifts it to his lips, taking a long sip off of it. A hot mocha with extra pumps of chocolate, the way Tommy would order the drink for himself; something Evan has probably told his sister about.

They sit in silence for a while. Tommy doesn’t have it in him to try and fake small talk on less than four hours of sleep, and he knows Maddie is just as on edge as he is. At some point, he knows the rest of their family will be around, but he hadn’t seen the point of everyone showing up first thing in the morning so that they could all sit in a room in silence and wait impatiently.

It’s a long hour and a half. Tommy paces the floor for the better part of it, only stopping every once and a while to stare out the window. He's trying not to be caught inside his own head, but it’s easier said than done when he knows all too well all the complications that could take place, solely based on the deep dives he let himself take over the past few weeks. He also knows that for as much as they want this to be the end of the line in Evan’s health issues, it could just be the start of it.

When the nurses finally wheel Evan back through, Tommy and Maddie are on their heels, following back into the room. They’re told the doctor will be in soon, but Tommy barely registers the information, mostly focused on Evan. The blonde is looking up at him with a glazed smile, which is enough to tell Tommy he’s been given more medication.

“You’re cute,” Evan states at him as Tommy brushes a hand over his cheek.

Tommy chuckles down at him. “So are you.”

“Shh,” Evan replies, lifting a hand to his lips. “My fiancé will hear you.”

Tommy shakes his head at Evan, kissing his fingers before he pulls them away. Maddie comes around the bed then and Evan beams at her.

“Maddie!”

She laughs at him, shaking her head. “You having fun yet, Evan?”

He shakes his head. “No. They’re gonna make me get naked.”

Maddie presses her lips together in a thin line at the statement but nods after a moment. “Yeah- yeah, they make you do that in heart surgery.”

Evan looks back over at Tommy. “What if someone tries to peek? That’s all just for you.”

Tommy turns his head away intentionally, looks over at Maddie as he tries to hold his composure. Her expression is somewhere between painfully uncomfortable and amused. He takes a deep breath to try and tamp down the urge to fall into a fit of giggles and looks back at Evan.

“Yes, baby, just for me,” he replies, his throat tight with the urge to laugh. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Evan pouts at him then.

“What?” Tommy inquires.

“You still gonna love me when I’m a crime scene,” he asks. Tommy raises an eyebrow at him, exhaustion making him forget about Evan’s earlier statement for a moment. When the memory occurs to him though, he gives a slow nod.

“Yes, I will still love you when you have tubes running in and out of you,” he replies. “And even after.”

Evan keeps asking ridiculous questions, and it’s all Tommy and Maddie to do to keep (mostly) straight faces. However, after a while, Dr. Tomlin strolls back into the room, breaking up the lightness of the moment with his presence. Dread suddenly clouds over Tommy like a storm cloud.

“Just wanted to let you know that the testing went well,” Dr. Tomlin tells them. “I didn’t see any major issues of concern. We’ve got a few minutes before the nurses will come to get him and bring him down.

Tommy and Maddie both nod. Tommy turns back towards Evan, staring at him with that same expression he had on his face before they took the blonde for the cardiac catheterization. As though, for as unsettled as Evan has been for weeks, now Tommy is the one struggling to keep it together.

“Tommy.”

He glances up towards Dr. Tomlin, though he’s entirely unfocused.

“Hmm?”

“We don’t do this typically,” he states. “But…do you want to scrub and come back while we put him under?”

Tommy inhales a shaky breath at the question, looking over at Evan for a moment. The blonde is staring up at him, obviously also waiting on his response. After a moment, he nods, doing his best to maintain his composure.

“Ye-yeah,” he stammers. “Thanks.”

Dr. Tomlin nods then. “I’ll have the nurses bring you back when they grab Evan. See you both soon.”

They sit in silence after that. Maddie steps out to take a call from Chimney—their family has been asking to come up to the hospital for a while now. Still, whether the medication for the catheterization has worn off or Evan has just settled back into the weight of the day, he’s no longer making jokes.

“Thought I was the one who was supposed to panic,” he rasps, curling his fingers around the stubble on Tommy's chin, brushing his thumb over his bottom lip. Tommy kisses the digit, struggles to keep the burning glassiness in his eyes from turning into actual tears.

“They’re gonna put you to sleep,” Tommy reminds him, his voice strained. “I’m going to be awake the whole time, waiting for you to come back to me.”

“Guess I better do that then,” Evan murmurs. Tommy nods at him, though his expression is entirely serious.

“Yeah, you should.”

A few minutes later, the nurses emerge and collect them while Maddie alerts Tommy that people are starting to head up and that she’ll be in the waiting room. He's then shown off to a room to change while Evan is wheeled towards the OR. The separation makes Tommy’s heart clench, knowing exactly what they’re about to walk into.

Still, ten minutes later, he’s changed, surgically scrubbed clean, and walking into an operating room, where Evan has been settled onto the table, chest and most of his legs exposed in case there’s need for grafting.

Tommy walks over to him, struggling to keep his emotions in check as he stares down at Evan on the table. His fingers tremble as he leans down over him, brushing lightly over his hairline, his face giving little twitches as he tries to maintain composure.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he rasps, though it’s clear the statement is more for himself than it is Evan.

“Gonna marry the hell out of you after this,” Evan replies, although the anxiety is clear in his eyes as well. A tear slips out the side of his eye, rolling down his face towards his ear.

“Yeah?” Tommy chokes out. “You think so?”

Evan nods, and Tommy tries not to focus on the anesthesiologist working nearby, or the things the other doctors are saying.

“I know so,” he replies back, blinking a few times rapidly and then opening his eyes wider. Tommy gulps at the realization that the medication is being administered, starting to take effect. He leans down further, his lips right next to Evan’s ear.

“I’d find you and marry you in every lifetime. Give you anything in the galaxy just to see that smile. Move heaven and earth if it meant I got ten more seconds of seeing those eyes,” he states softly, pressing his forehead into Evan’s temple. “You know I’m gonna love you for the rest of my life, right?”

“Mhm,” Evan hums back. Tommy lets out a choked noise out of the back of his throat as he leans up, sees Evan's eyes have gotten heavy, struggling to stay awake.

Tommy leans down, kisses the corner of his mouth. “Come back to me, Evan. Okay? Come back to me.”

Evan doesn’t answer him, and after a few seconds, someone—Tommy isn’t sure who—confirms that Evan is unconscious. He’s pushed gently towards the doors then, with a nurse explaining to him that someone should be around in a while to let him know how things are going. It takes Tommy a few seconds of standing outside the double doors, watching through the small window as multiple physicians move around the table, attaching tubes and checking machines, and then he's forced to turn and finally walk back out of the OR ward.

His brain is on autopilot as he walks back to Evan’s pre-op room, changes back into his street clothes and then grabs their bag. It isn’t until he reaches the waiting room and finds that everyone else has arrived that he finally snaps out of it, walks into the waiting arms of his best friends.

He holds it together somehow. Even through multiple hugs. Even through another cup of coffee from his and Evan’s favorite café being handed to him by Eddie. Even through Hen being the reasonable one and reminding all of them that they have to take breaks and eat.

Somehow, he’s both exhausted and wide awake. When his friends put a burger and fries in front of him, he manages to get through a few of the fries and half of the burger, chasing it down with more caffeine Somewhere in the midst of it all, one of the nurses comes out and alerts them that surgery is going as expected. The fact that that statement could mean a variety of things does nothing to make Tommy feel better about it.

Once the nurse heads back to the operating room, he stands from his seat.

“I can’t sit here,” he states, fingers trembling at his side. “I need to go for a walk or something.”

Glances are exchanged among each other, and after a minute, Bobby stands, places a hand on Tommy’s back.

“Let’s go then.”

Tommy nods at him, and Maddie tells him that she’ll call if anything else happens with a quick squeeze of his hand before he and Bobby are walking off the ward, headed towards the elevators.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind, other than the fact that he just needs to not be sedentary with all of his anxiety. He doesn’t even really want to talk, but also knows he probably shouldn’t be alone, given the stress of the day.

Tommy isn’t sure entirely how; he doesn't know if Bobby starts leading at some point, or if he just naturally gravitates there, but eventually they end up sitting inside the hospital’s chapel. Tommy stares up at the glass quietly as Bobby says a prayer silently. When it appears that he’s finished, he finally speaks.

“He decided on a biological valve,” he murmurs, eyes still grazing over the stained glass. “Did you know that?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Last he told me he still hadn’t made a decision."

Tommy nods. “He was worried the brass won’t let him return to active duty if he doesn’t. Even though it requires replacement, and a mechanical valve would’ve been permanent. Because of the damn blood thinners.”

“I was the one who held him back last time,” Bobby admits with a long breath. “I mean I had the support of the fire chief to make that decision, but it was me.”

“I know,” Tommy replies, still not able to look over at him. “He told me that a while ago; couple of years ago now. And I don’t think he feels like you would this time, but this time wouldn’t be temporary, either. They’re permanent with a mechanical valve, and you and I both know Evan isn’t done running into burning buildings or pulling people from cramped spaces with jagged edges.”

Bobby nods. Tommy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares at a random spot of woodgrain on the pew in front of him.

“Is it bad that I wish it was me,” he rasps, his forehead wrinkling with unabashed pain. “That I would trade places with him in a literal heartbeat?”

“So then Buck is the one sitting here, waiting and hoping you come out okay,” Bobby asks. His tone isn’t judgemental, so much as pointing out the situation.

Tommy shakes his head, knitting his eyebrows together as he turns to look back at the older man.

“He didn’t deserve this. A-and there are so many different ways that this can all go wrong and he doesn’t end up okay,” he continues. “Bobby, if he doesn’t-..”

Bobby squeezes his shoulder, shakes his head lightly. “What happened to waiting on bad news and not borrowing trouble?”

Tommy lets out a mirthless laugh and shakes his head, looking down at his hands. “I’m not very good at taking my own advice.” His expression falls then, and he shakes his head. “I just keep thinking about this day, I don’t know, like a week before everything,” Tommy admits gruffly, sniffling.

“Yeah,” Bobby prompts.

Tommy nods. “We were… doing things. And in retrospect, I should’ve known. His heart was racing, I swear to god he almost passed out, Bobby.”

“You know Buck holds no qualms about talking about the things he enjoys in your relationship,” he comments. “Including your sex life, regardless of whose soul it hurts.”

Tommy lets out a small chuckle, but he nods again, glancing over at the older man.

“So then you also know that if something had concerned him about whatever was happening, he would’ve said something about it,” Bobby states.

Tommy just shakes his head.

He slides his fingers down the expanse of Evan’s ribs to his hips, pressing their naked chests flush against one another, capturing the younger man’s mouth with his own wetly. Evan moans softly into his mouth, pulls lightly at the ropes binding his arms behind him. Tommy’s lips trace down his jaw to the juncture of his neck and collarbone as his hand slides between them, grasps Evan’s erection firmly.

“Oh f*ck,” the blonde mutters. His knees give as Tommy strokes his thumb expertly at the head and Tommy tightens his grip around Evan’s waist, keeping him upright as he leans back and looks down at him quizzically.

“You okay, baby?” He asks with genuine concern. “Too much?”

Evan lets out a few breaths, blinks as Tommy runs his fingers back up his chest, feels his heart racing beneath his skin.

“We can slow down-..”

“No no,” Evan stammers rapidly. “I-I’m good. Keep going.”

It’s the middle of the afternoon when Dr. Tomlin walks into the waiting room. Tommy bolts up out of his chair—fifth coffee of the day in his hand—alongside Maddie, and although everyone else remains seated, it’s clear that they’re all listening with rapt attention.

“Everything went well,” he explains to them. “There were some moments that were a little touch and go, but he held on. Right now he’s been wheeled up to the PAC-U, which is limited to one visitor for five minutes at a time. It’s a little more flexible once we get him moved to the ICU.”

Tommy and Maddie both look up at each other and exchange a look and as much as he’s bouncing off the walls to see Evan again, he squeezes her hand lightly.

“You go,” he rasps. “I’m gonna be here all night.”

She leans up and hugs him tightly in a silent thank you, and then follows after Dr. Tomlin as he leads her back out of the waiting room.

Tommy sinks back into his chair with a long sigh of relief, the weight of his exhaustion starting to hit him. He definitely wants to see Evan soon, but he’s also trying not to be selfish about letting their loved ones have their time.

“You gonna make it through the rest of the night,” Eddie asks beside him. Tommy rolls his head on the back of the chair, looking over at his friend. He glances briefly down at the coffee in his hand and then back up at Eddie.

“With a few more espresso shots, maybe.”

Eddie chuckles at him, shaking his head. “Didn’t we just spend all afternoon here because of someone in this family needing heart surgery?”

Tommy rolls his eyes, and as if to make a point, lifts his drink and takes another sip off of it. The coffee isn't actually doing much for him at this point, but he’ll take what he can get.

The group cycles through one at a time, and Tommy tries not to overly invest in the looks on their faces as they return, or the murmured statements made back and forth as one person after another comes back to the waiting room.

After about an hour, when it becomes clear that the waiting game is far from over, and Tommy manages to convince their friends to go home. Shortly after the last of them do—Eddie, wanting to be absolutely positive he’d be okay alone—Dr. Tomlin comes back and gathers Tommy, lets him know that Evan has been moved to a room in the ICU.

“I just want to remind you to prepare yourself,” Dr. Tomlin tells him as they walk. “I understand you didn’t go up to the PAC-U?”

Tommy nods, hitching their bag higher on his shoulder as they pass through one ward into the next. “I wanted our family to get their chance first,” he states. “A-and maybe just…get a few more minutes.”

Dr. Tomlin nods. He slows as they walk into the ICU. “Well, hospital limitations allow one family member to stay overnight. The ward allows two at a time for up to fifteen minutes, so keep that in mind.”

“I think the only person who might come back up tonight is his sister,” Tommy replies. They both slow to a halt outside the room.

“This is where I leave you,” Dr. Tomlin tells him. “I’ll be kept apprised of Evan’s status through his release, but unless there’s need, he’ll be shifted back to Dr. Callahan until we do follow-ups.”

Tommy nods again. He extends his hand to Dr. Tomlin and the man reaches back, shaking firmly with Tommy before they separate and Tommy turns to the door. He allows himself a few more seconds, taking a long deep breath, before he turns the handle to the door and eases it open.

Evan’s eyes slide open slowly, the slightest of noises emitting from the back of his throat as his vision struggles to come into focus in the room. Where is he? Where is Tommy?

He tries to lift his hands, but finds one weighted down and the other restrained, causing him to whimper. Everything feels cold and heavy, and he can’t figure out where he is or what’s happening. Did something happen at work? Was he injured? Is Cap okay? Where is Tommy?

“Shh, baby, I’m here,” Tommy’s voice murmurs. There’s a hand on his head then, brushing down through his hair as he blinks a few more times. He manages to make Tommy out then—first the shape of him, and then a bit better as his vision starts to focus at Tommy standing over the side of the bed, staring down at him. He smiles when Evan’s eyes finally meet his. “Hi, baby.”

Evan groans again, lets go of his fingers that are loosely wrapped around Tommy’s, reaching weakly up for the sleeve of his sweater. “Mmm-…”

Tommy slides his arm back and grabs Evan’s hand, settling it back down onto the bed.

“You’re okay, baby,” he tells him, still carding his fingers through Evan’s hair. “You had heart surgery, remember?”

Evan stares up at him, eyes still half-glazed, his expression lost somewhere between fear and exhaustion. He tries to remember, but he can’t place it. Did something happen at work? He blinks wearily, tries to reach out for Tommy again, but Tommy’s hand is so much heavier on his. He whimpers weakly, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“Evan,” Tommy murmurs softly, leaning down towards him so he fills his field of vision. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You just had major surgery.” He pauses for a moment, tries to let Evan digest the information. But after a few minutes, Evan is trying to paw at him again, clearly still caught up in his disorientation. Tommy sighs, tilts his head at him. He slides his hand down Evan’s head to his cheek and the blonde turns into it as best he can, but it seems to help.

“You did so good, baby,” Tommy tells him in the same soft tone. “Everything's fine. Just get some rest.” A tear runs down Evan’s face, over Tommy's fingers as he closes his eyes.

Tommy calls Maddie after Evan falls back asleep, and before long there are nurses in the room, checking in on his stabilization. They pass in and out of the room regularly, commenting on one thing or another, but nothing that seems overly relevant at the time. Tommy overhears a discussion about lowering ventilation settings, timelines for removing it and things of the like.

He’s having a hard time sitting still. He’d sent everyone home as soon as Evan had come out of surgery, mostly because it didn’t make sense for all of them to be there waiting. Evan was already limited to two visitors, and he’d known it was going to be several hours before he woke up. Plus, with dinnertime approaching, he hadn’t wanted Eddie or Maddie and Chimney to put off feeding their kids.

Still, as soon as he texts her, Maddie immediately responds back that she’s leaving the house. Something about that text wakes up something inside Tommy, and he can’t sit still then.

When she arrives some twenty minutes later, Howie is with her, but they don’t have Jee-Yun.

“Hen and Karen took her for the evening,” Maddie explains. “We agreed to switch when they come up with Eddie tomorrow so that all the kids are covered.”

Tommy nods, but he still can’t stop the anxiety overflowing inside of him.

“I uh, I need to get something to drink,” he tells them.

He leaves the both of them in the room with Evan and walks out of the cardiac unit, tugging at the collar of his hoodie as he does. Everything feels too tight and uncomfortable, and he’s not sure what to do with his feelings. He’s not even sure why he’s spinning up right now, let alone why he can’t reign it in.

Somehow, he ends up back in the chapel two floors down, standing against the wall just inside the room. He’s not sure what led him there; he’s not religious at all, and he hasn’t been to church since his grandma dragged him to services as a little kid, plus Bobby isn’t with him this time. Evan doesn’t really go either, and although he knows both Bobby and Eddie believe, neither of them are the kind of people who press their own views onto others.

He sinks down onto the floor, bone-tired and aching from the tension trying to leave his shoulders as he stares up at the stained glass, trying to make sense of everything.

He’s still there twenty minutes later when Chimney walks in and finds him.

“Thought you might be in here,” he comments, both hands stuffed in his pockets. He walks over to Tommy and drops to his haunches. “Since when are you religious?”

Tommy lets out a soft chortle. “I’m not. I just…” He blinks wearily and shakes his head. When he looks back up at Chimney, he almost can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, like he’s hearing them for the first time. “Evan almost died. He had an aneurysm that could’ve killed him.”

Chimney nods. He sits down on the floor next to Tommy and places a hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“But he didn’t,” Chimney reminds him. “Buck is alive.”

Tommy nods, at first like he’s digesting the information, and then he can’t stop because holy f*ck Evan had open heart surgery and could’ve died but he didn’t and that’s just a lot.

“He’s alive,” Tommy repeats, more to himself than to Chimney. His face keeps making these little twitches as he tries to fight off the emotions still threatening to overtake him. But he can’t. “f*ck, Howie. He’s alive.”

Tommy cracks then, dropping his head against his forearms crossed over his knees as relieved sobs escape his chest. Evan is alive. He could’ve died. But he didn’t. He’s alive. And he’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay. He survived.

Chimney doesn’t speak as they sit there; just keeps a hand on Tommy’s shoulder and holds the space for him as he works through the waves coming over him. When he’s calmed enough that he’s not audibly crying anymore, Chimney asks.

“You haven’t taken a breath in three weeks, have you?”

Tommy lets out an actual giggle as he looks up at his friend, the man who’s supposed to be his best man in a few months’ time. “No.”

Chimney nods, patting Tommy’s back.

They sit in silence for a while as Tommy processes everything, continues to try and reign in his own emotions. It’s barely been a month since they sat in the ER and were told that Evan needed surgery at the risk of his aorta dissecting and killing him. Tommy knows intrinsically that that’s a severe level of psychological stress and trauma to live through in such a short time, but somehow the idea of sitting in therapy and talking about it feels a little trivial.

They’re still sitting in silence when Chimney suddenly looks down, pulls his phone from his pocket. Tommy glances over at him as he reads the message.

“Tube’s coming out,” he states, still looking at his phone. “And Buck is awake again.”

Tommy nods. He scrubs a sleeve across his face, wiping away any remnants of tears on his face before he stands up and follows after Chimney out of the chapel. They head back up the ICU silently, but when they reach the waiting room, Tommy stops, rests a hand on Chimney’s shoulder.

“Did you want to go back first,” he asks. “I don’t want to keep anyone from seeing him, and I was here when he first woke up.”

Chimney tilts his head at him. “It’s fine, T. I’ll see him tomorrow. You go.”

Tommy looks at him gratefully for a moment before he squeezes Chimney’s shoulder and walks past him, back into the ward. He passes by multiple people on his way through, trying not to be too caught up in the swirling emotions inside his chest. Still, when he reaches Evan’s door, Maddie is standing just outside of it, watching. She looks up at him and lets out a small sigh of relief, reaching for his hand instinctively.

“Everything okay,” he asks as she squeezes his fingers. His height gives him a better vantage point than she has, and after a moment, there’s the wet sound of coughing and gagging, followed by what might be the greatest thing Tommy’s ever heard.

“f*ck.”

He’s rocking on his heels as he waits until the nurses exit the room and he and Maddie are able to reenter. Evan’s bed has been elevated slightly more, and he still looks exhausted, but his eyes are clearer and he smiles when he sees both of them. Tommy’s heart swells at the sight as he crosses back through the room, reaching for Evan’s hand again.

“I came back,” he rasps, flinching at the soreness of his throat as the words come out, barely above a whisper.

Tommy gives a half-smile back at him as he walks across the room, his chest swelling at the statement. Evan lifts his hand again towards him, but this time he settles for Tommy’s fingers in his. Tommy leans down over him then, brushes his lips over Evan’s quickly and gently, his fingers curled under Evan’s chin.

“Yeah,” he murmurs with a soft sigh. “You did.”