Martin struggling with fatigue, brain fog and pain post Lonely and feeling awful for the days he can’t help Jon.
Convincing himself he’s terrible and awful because certain things completely drain his energy and he has to ask Jon to do it.
He’s dealt with disability before and knows how to handle it in other people but is terrified when he has to face his own challenges and disabilities because he’s scared of making others feel obligated and burdened with him.
Martin sobbing into Jon’s arms about how terrible he feels being unable to do things and feeling a crushing guilt that he both asks for help but also makes Jon hold him while he cries.
Martin being so used to caretaking for others that he doesn’t know how to cope now that he’s the one who needs to be cared for.
Jon holding his hand through the whole process because he understands how uncomfortable the switch is of being fine to constant exhaustion and pain
Whumpee never wants to be weak again, so they push themself further and further on the training grounds. Seeking out opponents with a reputation for going all out, then for going too far. Goading their sparring partners into attacking them for real. Secretly conjuring up magical constructs who won't hesitate to draw live steel. Training until their callouses tear open, until their muscles scream, until they throw up (and wipe their mouth and get back to it), until they pass out in the dust.
And it doesn't work. They flinch at the sound of a sword unsheathing. They get sloppy and irrational. They get weak.
It's frustrating. They're furious at themself for it, and all they can do is try harder. They just want to improve! They have to get better! Why are they just getting worse?
happy the pitt thursday. except its not happy. but great episode for people who love the nurses (me).
anyways.
dr robby x hoh!reader (and a hint of whitaker x reader IF you squint) who has a very bad day. can be read in the same universe as this but doesn't have to be!
also just a general warning of internalized ableism and complicated feelings about being Deaf! also, a hint of nsfw towards the end!!//
"what do you want to do next?"
"another round of epi."
but your hands are shaking. your entire body is shaking. you refuse to cry, but you want to. fuck, you want to. you haven't had time to breath today. you haven't had a pulse in sixteen minutes.
but this man, the man who's ribs you cracked seven minutes ago, has a daughter who isn't sixteen yet. and everyone is staring at you. you hate that most of all, maybe even more than you hate how this is all your fault.
sweat drips down your forehead and onto your nose-- sweat is pretty much dripping down every inch of your skin, and not in the fun way that happens when you and robby get a few hours alone.
"check rhythm, see if we have a pulse," you say, "holding compressions." you pull your body off the man's, and are met with the one long agitating beep that comes with asystole. you move to resume compressions when one large, steady hand rests on your shoulder.
"i think we're done here." robby says, and something else fills your chest. "time of--"
"no!"
your voice surprises everyone in the room-- every nurse, med student and resident, you, and robby. you're robby's little deer-- you, on your clumsy, two left feet, have followed him around every shift, with big, curious eyes, and a desperation to be his favorite. but it was more than that, robby would reflect when you got together. you had this passion, this need to be good at what you did, especially when it came to medicine. it stirred something in robby that hadn't been touched in a long time. it amused him at first, your eagerness. maybe it was more than that.
maybe even he could admit, if prompted, that you had charmed him in a way he didn't think was possible. by the third time you two had spoken, you were matching his humor, his rhythm, his.. well, you just fit right by his side. there was something about him that pulled you to him just as strongly as you pulled him to you. it took him three months before he caved and asked you to grab dinner after your shift. he wound up fingering you in the bathroom, covering your mouth with his hand, the same hand that just stopped you from continuing your compressions, telling you--
"shh, little deer, don't want anyone to hear, do you?"
and as your relationship with him went from a few dates and a couple of fucks to a green toothbrush in your bathroom, a spare pair of hearing aids in robby's dresser, and the constant swapping of clothing, you found your footing. you were still a little deer like, eager eyed and passionate, maybe a little clumsy, but you were more confident, a little more social with your coworkers, and good at your job. everyone noticed.
and even if they didn't say it, they knew robby was fond of you. he let you get away with a few too many mistakes, never held anything against you. you were the first thing robby had done right in a long time. he didn't want to fuck it up. and he knew if he held work things against you, he would do just that. there was a betting board of when the two of you would hook up-- something you only found out because one of the nurses who usually worked the night shift asked you if you knew if dr robby and the 'little fawn like resident' had finally hooked up.
so, yeah. it surprises everyone in the trauma room.
it especially surprises robby. but he gives you the benefit of the doubt.
"kid, this isn't--"
"no!" you snap, "we can keep going, we can save him, i can--" your defiant statement flickers out into a weak whimper, your hands are shaking still. your lips pull into a frown, and you know you have about thirty seconds before you break down into sobs, right into your secret boyfriend's arms.
"you're done." robby's voice is firm. just like the senior attending should when one of their residents is losing it over the death of a patient. "take five. get some air. we'll debrief when you feel better."
and yet, you hate him. rage burns in your chest, and you want to yell at him, tell him to fuck off, tell him you wanted nothing to do with him, tell him that he isn't your dad--
instead you peel off your gloves, violently rip your gown off as you storm off, barking out a 'what?' at whitaker, because he just gives you the biggest, most curious brown eyes, and you can't stand him, only in that moment. you'll apologize later.
you reach the ambulance bay while your mind rushes, faster than you can keep up. you can't breathe. you're angry. you're angry at robby for not letting you keep working on him. you're angry at robby for distracting you all day with his cute quirks and little mannerisms. you're angry at the patient for not waking up, even if that's insane, and maybe cruel. and most of all, you're angry at yourself. you did this. what if you checked on him earlier? what if you hadn't went to grab the half of a bagel robby had left in the fridge for you ten minutes earlier, and had asked him if he needed something?
what if you had been able to hear the monitor when he went into afib? what if you had been able to hear him dying? what if you had been able to hear?
your shaking hands come up to your ears, and you turn off your hearing aids before taking them off. you stare at the wall of the pitt for a good thirty seconds when robby's hand is back on your shoulder. you jump, and flinch away from him.
if he notices that, or your wet eyes, he doesn't say anything. but you're sure he does notice.
he sighs, before his hands begin to move.
'are you okay?' he signs, and you feel anger bubble in you again.
'fine.' you respond, and robby looks at you for a long moment.
'don't lie to me, baby.' because you're alone. because princess is the only other staff member to know asl, to your knowledge. and she's not here.
you glare to him.
'don't lie to you? fuck off robby.' you scoff, 'you're chief avoidant issues, remember?'
it's a low blow, and robby hates how the two of you are mean in the same way when you're fighting. and he knows you're upset right now, and that you'll apologize when you feel a little better, when you come up for air from this meltdown.
'yeah, i am.' he signs back, 'and you did everything you could--'
your hands move as you realize what he's starting to do.
'no! don't do that, i fucking lost him, robby, that was all me! he was ten years younger than you, and i couldn't save him!' you sign back, and you ignore the tears that are running down your cheeks.
'i know, it's been a long day, but you did your best. that's all you need to do today, any day. you're a good doctor. half the doctors i know would do anything for a fraction of your skill, so i know you did everything a good doctor would.' he signs back, and you just shake your head, closing your eyes.
'his wife, and his daughter..' you sign back, and robby shakes his head, walking towards you for a moment, and tilting your head towards him, prompting you to open your eyes.
'let's calm down before you think about that. we have a minute, dana has to clean him up.' he signs, and you exhale through your nose, and blink your eyelashes at him.
'i should've been able to save him.' you sign, and robby frowns.
'you can't save everyone, baby.' you know that. of course, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from melting, right into a puddle of tears. robby's arms are around you in a second, and he holds you for a long while. longer than he should, probably. then, he's pressing a kiss to your forehead, and mumbling,
"i've got you, kid." with your head pressed against his chest like this, you can feel the rumble of his vocal cords. you take a moment to breathe, to collect yourself before you're pulling away, wiping your tears. robby doesn't want to invade your space, or he'd wipe them for you.
'i'm sorry about what i called you.'
'well, you aren't wrong.' robby shrugs. he's too fond of you to be angry at you for calling him out. you're one of the only people who can pull that out of him.
'but you're also a very good teacher and a million other wonderful things.' you sign, and it makes robby smile. he presses a kiss to your lips, and then mumbles against them,
"take a second to catch your breath" he pulls away and you realize you've gotten very good at reading lips like that, "and come join us for a debriefing when you're ready. i love you, doc, and i'm sorry you're going through this." he confesses, before leaving you to collect your thoughts. he knows he's needed else where, and he knows you just need a second.
all of eight or nine minutes later, after watching javadi cut off a cast and addressing a grease burn, an unfortunate event with a pan of bacon grease and a clumsy frat boy who recently broke his foot playing hockey a month ago, robby walked by the hub, and watched as you approached whitaker, the first he's seen you since snapping at him.
he notices your hearing aids in your hands and frowns. he grabs your arm gently to grab your attention.
"hey, uh--" he hesitates before he does the sign for cry, dragging his pointer fingers down his cheeks, "why are you crying? are you okay?"
that, admittedly, pulls a smile out of you. he's a sweet guy.
"i lost my patient, mr. olsen, the one who came in for the head laceration with the uh.. violin prodigy. yale, remember?" you muse, because you're trying to make yourself feel better. maybe if you pretend hard enough, everything will be okay.
"oh. i'm sorry, that's.. that's tough." whitaker's been there. "well, let me know if you need anything, okay?" he wonders, and you smile.
"yeah. thanks, whitaker." you say in earnest, before putting your hearing aids on and turning them on, before giving him the best smile you could.
"no problem." he smiles.
from across the hub, robby watches the whole thing, peering over his readers at you and dr. whitaker. when he hears dana snicker beside him, he looks back at his chart.
"what?" he asks of her, and she shrugs.
"just wonderin' if the great dr. robinavitch still gets jealous." robby, as dana would tell it, was quite the player during his rotations and eventual residency.
"jealous?" he peers up at her now, "of who?"
"who d'ya think? little deer and the farm boy. it's like a fairytale." she teases, knowing exactly what her teasing is doing to him.
"me, jealous of huckleberry?" robby lets out a half amused, half annoyed 'hmmph!' before dana edges a little closer to him, lowering her voice before asking,
"little deer gonna be okay?" she wonders, and he sighs. he looks at you, and he can see that you're chugging a bottle of water, but based on the way your eyes skitter around the ed, he can tell you're looking for him. he should've known you'd go right to whitaker and then to him-- you don't do well with guilt or unresolved feelings.
"they're a tough cookie," robby says, "but i've got a three day weekend planned for us and a trip to salem for halloween. the robinavitches," he says a tad more firmly as he stands up, tucks his glasses away and catches your eyes as you step towards the hub, before motioning with one nod for you to come over, "will not be working halloween." he says decidedly, a smile on his face before you get to him. "hi." he greets, waiting for you to set the tone of the conversation.
"hi." you smile softly, and you greet dana as well. "i want to go talk to mrs. olsen and her daughter about mr. olsen. can you.." you hate that you don't feel confident enough to do it by yourself, so dana tells you,
"i got a seven year old with a cut to the palm whenever you're ready." she says, as if to save you any embarrassment, before wandering off wherever she is needed.
"yeah," robby grabs your attention. "we should do that. do you want to take the lead?" he wonders, and you nod, softly. you want to get better at this.
telling family members about the death of a loved one is never easy. but, it's part of the job, and although his death is felt deeply by those he loved.. they don't blame you, and in fact, thank you for doing what you could, promising to send you the information for the service..
by the time they leave, you're beat. you wrap up your shift, a deep, tired ache in your bones as you pull on robby's hoodie, and pull your duffle bag over your shoulder. robby meets you by the exit of the hospital. you don't mind, you needed a second to think.
"hey, baby." his affection is not restrained as he wraps his arm around your torso and presses a kiss to your head. robby and you go back to your apartment, and you find two packed suitcase and two tickets to boston. then, he explains, he'll drive the two of you to salem, and you'll spend all weekend there. and you won't have to think about your work, or what happened today at all.
you want to say thank you so you offer to suck him off, but robby, ever the giver, asks to eat you out, "for as long as i want to," was his exact words. so, of course, you let him. but as he knelt between your knees, kissing your thighs as he made his way towards your cunt, he started to talk.
"you," he said, willingly bringing up work for the first time outside the walls of the pitt, "are someone who reacts to other people in pain in a very real, and very honest way. i know you think getting emotional over your patients is a weakness, but i'd rather see that than see you numb to it." he kisses your knee, robbing his other hand along your thigh, "fuck, i love you."
and then, for as long as the old man can, he proves that to you.
Hi my loves! Chapter 4 of Sunny Days is finally up and I can't wait to hear what you all think!
Pls give it some love here and on AO3? Thank youuu! ♥
TW for internalized ableism from Buck
Evan
Tuesday (fourteen days ago)
(3:00pm) hey, sorry for bailing, I really wasn't feeling good. Overdid at PT, probably. Needed to rest.
(3:01pm) Don't apologize, I just worried! Are you feeling better??
(3:40pm) yeah, just gotta take it easy for a bit.
(3:41pm) I understand! Is there anything you need?
(3:45pm) no, but thanks, Tommy.
Friday (eleven days ago)
(9:00am) hey! Are you feeling better? Do you wanna pass by the café?
(9:01am) I don't have a shift for the next 48 hours, so I'll be hanging around here…
(9:01am) Might rescue you from Stardew Valley boredom haha
(9:45am) hey. can't today. Leg's still acting up and therapist told me to let it rest for a few days.
(9:48am) Sorry…
(10:00am) Don't be sorry, Evan! Health comes first.
(10:01am) Do you want me to bring you some pastries? I can leave it at your door…
(10:10am) No, thanks, my sister has me covered. I'll stick to my Stardew Valley farm today.
(10:15am) Oh. Okay! Have fun :)
Monday
(1:30pm) there's lemon cake today! Should I save you a piece?
(2:30pm) no, can't. Sorry.
Wednesday
(2:00pm) Hey! No pressure of course, but are you doing better?
(2:10pm)) Any chance you might come to the café soon? The girls miss you and Sunny…
(2:12pm) And so do I
(2:12pm) you have deleted this message.
Saturday
(10:00am) Evan
(10:05am) Are you doing okay?
(10:06am) I don't want to overstep or anything
(10:07am) But I'm here if you need something…
(10:09am) Or even if you only want to talk.
(10:10am) I, um. I miss you.
(10:11am) Hope you're doing okay.
(Read at 11:00pm)
Today
(4:30pm) hey Tommy
(4:31pm) I'm so sorry for going MIA on you…
(4:32pm) Things are a bit hard for me right now.
Tommy stares at the words on the screen with such intensity that he's afraid he'll open a hole on his phone. After almost a week of complete silence, Evan finally texted him; and yet, it hasn't made Tommy feel better.
Realistically, Tommy knows his reaction is disproportionate. He and Evan have known each other for less than a month, and haven't seen each other for the last two weeks. Evan owes him nothing.
And yet… Tommy had foolishly thought they were building something. That their flirty talks at the café and when he walked Evan home were going somewhere.
Apparently, he was wrong. And it hurts way more than it should.
Especially because it seems to not even be about Tommy, really. Evan is struggling, and Tommy doesn't know with what. He doesn't want to assume that it's about Evan's leg, but it seems like the most logical conclusion; after all, from their conversations, he'd gathered that the amputation was relatively recent, so maybe something in the adaption process is being harder than expected.
Tommy feels the urge to help, to do something, but… He doesn't think it would be welcome. Whatever it is, it seems to have made Evan want to stay away from him, and there's nothing Tommy can do but respect it.
He doesn't have to be happy about it, though.
Some of what he's feeling must show on his face, because Sal raises his eyebrow at him. They're both sitting by the counter at Gina's Roast, just waiting for Gina to put them to work, and Tommy probably has been staring at his phone for too long.
"Who kicked your puppy, buddy?", Sal asks, and Gina glares at him with the force of a thousand suns. Then, she looks at Tommy with so much tenderness that he can barely take it.
"Is this about Evan, honey?", she asks softly, and Sal looks between them, a frown between his eyebrows.
"Evan? Does Tommy have a boyfriend? I'm busy for two weeks training a rookie and you get a boyfriend?"
"Not a boyfriend. He's just… We're friends, but. I don't know if he wants even that anymore", Tommy sighs.
Gina gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and then offers Sal a bit more of an explanation. "He's a guy that Tommy brought to the café a while back. He had some trouble with his service dog at Jolene's, but of course she was more than welcome here. The girls loved her"
"I see", Sal comments, looking more concernedly at Tommy now. "And I'm guessing something happened and he stopped coming?"
"I mean, I guess? He said he's having a hard time right now, so… I don't know, I'm trying not to take it personally", Tommy offers quietly, and Gina and Sal exchange one of those irritatingly meaningful looks of theirs.
"And you really shouldn't, sweetie", Gina suggests. "I mean, didn't you tell me that Evan's amputation is very recent? He's probably still adjusting to so many things"
Tommy nods, looking down. Objectively, he knows Gina is probably right, but that doesn't change the fact that, above anything else, he misses Evan something fierce.
"I mean, maybe you should -", Gina starts again, but suddenly Sal raises his head as if he's just realized something very important.
"Wait", he interrupts her, and that's how Tommy knows it's serious, because Sal never interrupts Gina. "…Is, um. Is this Evan guy missing a leg, by any chance?"
"Yes", Tommy says with a frown. He doesn't think Gina mentioned what kind of amputation Evan's had. And why does it matter anyway? "Why?"
"Right… Right" Sal pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes falling shut for a second. "This wouldn't be Evan Buckley, would he?"
Gina and Tommy exchange a surprised look, and then they both look back at Sal. "Okay", Gina says. "Are you suddenly a psychic or do you know something we don't?"
Sal, however, has his attention turned to Tommy, and there's an incredulous expression on his face. "…Tommy. How have you not put this together, man?"
Tommy blinks twice, taken aback, and looks helplessly at Gina, but she seems just as lost as he was.
"What are you talking about?"
Sal runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, but he looks at Tommy as if he didn't want to be the one telling him any of this.
"Buddy. Your new friend is Evan Buckley from the 118"
"From the…", Tommy begins, before the realization crashes into him.
He feels as if all the air has been knocked out of his chest, an unpleasant feeling coiling in his stomach. "…The firefighter who got trapped under the truck"
Of course Tommy remembers that, everyone in LAFD does; he had been out of town at the time, taking a few days off to visit his Nonna in Indiana, but the accident had been national news. He even remembered Nonna asking if it was a friend of his and saying that she'd pray for him anyway.
Like so many things, it had eventually slipped out of Tommy's mind as weeks went by. He didn't really talk to anyone at the 118 these days, so it's not like he could ask for more details. And then, when he met Evan, it felt wrong to ask how he'd lost his leg; Tommy figured that he'd tell him if and when he wanted to.
But then… Oh, my God. Of course. Of course Evan had started acting weird once Tommy told him he was a firefighter.
Fuck.
"Oh, Evan", Tommy whispers, more to himself than anyone else.
He takes his cellphone from his pocket and stares at his message thread with Evan. His fingers itch to write something, anything, but… What can he say? That he understands? Is that even what Evan needs from him right now?
No, Tommy realizes with complete certainty. There's nothing he can say to Evan through text.
Whatever he has to say, he has to say it while looking Evan in the eye.
(Read the rest under the cut or on AO3)
He wishes he could say that was new, but it's been a constant for quite a while now. Still sucks.
To his credit, he has been trying. Ever since telling Bobby, Maddie and Chim what was the reason behind his mood, Buck has been trying. Trying with PT, trying to have people over, trying not to let the bad thoughts take over his mind completely.
But it feels like trying to stay afloat when the current is too strong.
Today, the current is winning.
He half-assed his way through PT, and Maddie could tell. When she tried to talk to him about it, though, Buck snapped at her, saying he didn't need a babysitter and that she should just leave him alone. He could tell that had hurt his sister, and she hadn't lingered after dropping him off, choosing to give him space. Leave him alone like he'd asked.
It didn't make Buck feel any better.
Now he's feeling like shit and he's lonely. And miserable.
Sunny rests her head on his knee, whining softly, her chocolate-brown eyes looking up at him. Buck can't help but smile softly, running a hand through her fur. She's basically his guardian angel; he doesn't know what he'd do without her.
He sighs, resting his head against the couch, absentmindedly petting Sunny while the thoughts swirl in his head. He feels lonely, and his fingers are itching to text someone, but…
Buck's first thought is Maddie, but he's too ashamed after their spat. He knows he has to apologize, and he will, but… Not now. Not yet. He doesn't have the emotional bandwidth for it.
Then he thinks of Eddie. His best friend has been great ever since the accident, coming over and bringing Chris whenever he can sense that Buck needs some love from his favorite kid in the world. But… No.
No, deep down, Buck knows it's not Eddie he wants to text.
It's Tommy.
Buck misses Tommy so much it's ridiculous. He misses the café, too—Gina, the girls, the warmth of the place—but Tommy is the one who's constantly on his mind.
He misses their easy talk, and Tommy's scrunchy smile, and the way Tommy would always adjust his pace without comment when he walked Buck home. For that matter, Buck misses the way Tommy made those walks feel like just two friends hanging out, and not him taking care of Buck in any way.
He doesn't understand how a person can become so important in so little time, but the fact remains that Tommy's absence feels like a splinter under his skin.
It's been three days since Buck finally stopped ghosting Tommy, telling him things hadn't been too good for him lately. Tommy hasn't answered.
If he's honest, Buck knows he shouldn't have expected any differently. Tommy had every right to not answer him after being ignored for two weeks. But it still hurts.
Buck's fingers itch to send him another text, to apologize, to ask Tommy to please come over, but how can he? How can he explain to Tommy why he left without sounding completely unreasonable?
His phone buzzes by his side, and Buck's first instinct is to ignore it; it's probably Bobby asking about PT, and Buck doesn't feel like talking about that. But it buzzes again, a few times in a row, and Buck frowns; Bobby doesn't type that fast.
He reaches for his phone, and almost drops it when Tommy's name shows up on his screen. And then almost drops it again when he reads the text.
Hi Evan.
I'm downstairs.
I… I found out about your accident.
I promise I don't want to make things worse, I just… I want to talk to you.
Can I come up?
I'll understand if you say no.
Buck's stomach drops, his heart speeding up. Tommy knows. Fuck, Tommy knows. He can't tell if that's good or bad.
Why is he here anyway? Does he want to… What? Offer Buck his condolences for losing the job that gave his life purpose? Say he understands? Exchange firefighting stories?
What Buck fears the most, he knows, is Tommy seeing him differently. He can't take Tommy's pity.
But…
Tommy's absence in his life has been terrible. Nothing can be worse than that.
Besides, Buck has to think about Tommy too. After ghosting him like that when Tommy had been nothing but nice to him since the day they met, the least Buck owes him is an honest conversation.
hey…
ofc you can come up. apartment 13. there's an elevator.
you're right, we should talk.
It can't be more than one minute between Buck's last text and a shy knock on the door, but to him, it feels like an eternity. When he hears the knock, his heart feels like it forgot how to beat, and Buck needs a deep breath.
"Sunny, door", he says softly, but his dog hears it anyway, readily jogging towards the door.
Buck pushes himself to his feet using the sofa for support, keeping one hand on it for balance as he turns towards the door, completely unsure what to expect. Before he can brace himself either way, Sunny is already using the adapted handle to open the door, revealing an equally guarded Tommy on the other side.
Tommy frowns at first, looking at Buck so far from the door, but then he looks down and his face clears in understanding. Sunny gives a quiet bark of greeting before returning to her place by Buck's side, ready to help him should his balance falter.
For a second, they just stare at each other. Buck had forgotten just how handsome Tommy is (and he knows he keeps piling up evidence against his so called heterosexuality, but it's not the right moment to think about that), and he can't explain the feeling of… rightness. That he feels, seeing Tommy at the door of his apartment. As if he belongs there.
Buck wants him to belong there.
He can only hope he didn't screw it up before there was even a chance.
"Hey", he says, his voice faltering a tiny bit. "Come, um. Come in."
"Hey", Tommy says back, almost a whisper.
He comes in, closing the door behind himself and immediately burying his hands in his pockets. His posture is guarded, his shoulders almost reaching his ears in tension. Buck doesn't remember ever seeing him this nervous before.
"I, um. Sorry about the mess. I wasn't expecting anyone", Buck says, because he doesn't really do silence and has to say something.
Tommy hand-waves it; honestly, it doesn't seem like he's paying attention to the apartment at all, his gaze fixated on Buck. He runs a hand over his face and bites his lip.
"It's fine. Can we, uh. Can we sit? I think this is a sitting down conversation"
"Yeah, I think you're right", Buck concedes, and sits down on the couch.
Tommy sits down on the armchair, resting his forearms on his thighs, absently rubbing his thumbs together. He looks at Buck with those intense blue eyes, and Buck is at a complete loss on what to say.
"So, um", Tommy starts, a frown between his eyebrows. "How have you been, Evan? You… You said things have been tough."
Buck is caught off-guard by that; he was half expecting Tommy to demand an explanation. He knows that should make him feel grateful, or at least relieved. Instead, an inexplicable flash of anger runs hot through him.
He doesn't want to be pitied. Or coddled to.
"It's been shit, Tommy", he says, looking away. "But you don't have to treat me with kid's gloves because I don't have a leg and have been moping about it"
"I'm not", Tommy says, his voice irritatingly leveled, and Buck scoffs. That anger still hasn't left his chest, and he can feel the heat rising up his chest and reaching his cheeks.
"The fuck you're not", he says. "Stop being so goddamn perfect all the time, won't you, Tommy? Say what you really mean for once!"
Tommy blinks, clearly taken aback by Buck's tone. Even Buck's surprised at himself, but at this point, it feels like it's beyond his control; that he couldn't stop even if he wanted.
"Alright, then I will", he says, crossing his arms over his chest, and it gives Buck some petty satisfaction to notice there's some irritation seeping into his voice. "It really sucked to be ignored like that, you know?"
That makes Buck deflate a bit, shame finding its way into his chest along with the anger. He had kind of tried to convince himself that Tommy had been mostly unaffected by his distance, that he'd only reached out to be polite. Now it's clear that's not the case, and it makes him feel bad.
"I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Ignored you. It wasn't fair.", Buck grumbles, running a hand over his face, his stubble prickly on his fingers.
He used to keep it razor sharp because of the department, but it feels useless now that he barely leaves the house.
"I just…", Buck continues, taking a pause when he feels his voice falter. He won't cry in front of Tommy. He has some dignity left. "I didn't know how to talk to you. Not without telling you everything."
Tommy frowns, hunching forward on his seat, his eyes intensely focused on Buck. "Why… Why did you feel like you couldn't tell me?"
"It's not that…", Buck says, and then sighs deeply. "It's not that I couldn't. I never felt I couldn't. I just… I didn't want to."
There's silence for a bit as Tommy absorbs that information. Buck thinks it's only fair to give him that time, and tries not to stare. He looks down at Sunny, who's lying on the floor by his foot, and strokes her fur. She sighs, but doesn't move from her comfort spot.
Eventually, Tommy straightens, clearing his throat, and Buck looks back up. Tommy is looking at him, but Buck can't read his expression right now.
"I…", he starts, then shakes his head. "I… I'd have liked to know. That we both worked at the same station."
Buck shrugs; it's not like it matters now, but he knows saying that won't be well received. He doesn't trust his voice not to tremble anyway.
"Just… Why not, Evan?"
Well. Fuck well received. Fuck his trembling voice.
"Because what would be the fucking point?! I'm not a firefighter anymore! Probably never again! So there's your fucking reason, Tommy. I didn't want to tell you because it means nothing now."
Tommy opens his mouth, but Buck keeps going. The words have been festering inside him for two weeks, and now they're pouring out like poison.
"I… The café. It felt like a fresh start. And I liked that", Buck says, his voice faltering. Damn; he's been crying more in the past few months than in the last decade.
Tommy, however, says nothing about Buck's barely existent emotional control. He's looking at Buck as if he's desperately trying to understand what's going on in his mind.
Buck would help him, if he could. But he's not sure he understands it all himself.
"I… I liked that you only knew me now. The… the new version of me. Already missing a leg. And that you couldn't compare this version to the older one"
And Buck knows, Buck knows he shouldn't say the next bit out loud, he knows it's unfair to himself, and wrong, and Bobby and Maddie would have his head for it, but…
"The… The better one."
There. He's said it. He's half expecting Tommy to jump at it with a protest, that Buck shouldn't talk about himself like that. Bobby probably would; Maddie definitely would, and she'd scold Buck for saying such a thing.
Tommy doesn't.
In fact, Tommy doesn't say anything at first; silence fills Buck's living room. It's interrupted by a small whine from Sunny, who starts pawing at Buck's leg. His outburst must have startled her. She paws at his leg once more, restless and whining.
Buck gently pats her head, bending down to press a kiss close to her ear.
"I'm fine, girl", he whispers softly. "It's okay, go back to your nap."
Sunny settles again, her head resting on her front paws. Buck looks back at Tommy, unsure what to expect after what he just confessed. In all honesty, he's surprised Tommy is not bolting for the door already.
"I didn't know that version of you", he says softly.
Then, he comes closer, close enough that Buck can smell his aftershave, something woodsy and with a hint of cinnamon. He feels an irrational urge to hold Tommy's hand, but before he can even try to resist it, the other man is reaching for his.
Tommy's hand is big and calloused, and feels amazing against Buck's own. Tommy squeezes it gently, and then looks deep in Buck's eyes.
"I like this one. The one I know."
Buck gasps, his heart beating fast, but Tommy is not done. His hand hasn't let go of Buck's yet.
"In fact, I… I like this version very much, Evan"
That shouldn't land as hard as it does; it could even sound like a cliché that would irritate Buck from someone else, but the way Tommy says it… It makes Buck feel warm in the best way, and he acts before his brain can catch up.
One second he's looking into Tommy's impossibly gentle eyes, and in the next he's leaning in.
His lips touch Tommy's, and before Buck can even think of regretting it… Tommy kisses back.
It's chaste, and brief, and Buck's lips are left tingling once it's over. He takes an extra second to open his eyes, but when he does, Tommy still has his closed. Buck's first instinct is appreciating just how handsome Tommy is for a split second.
And then he starts mildly panicking.
Because holy shit.
He just kissed Tommy.
(So much for being straight.)
Now what?
Fuck.
Tommy opens his eyes, a small smile on his face, but he sort of drops it once he looks at Buck, who has no mirror around but is sure he looks very panicked.
It makes Buck feel terrible; he doesn't want Tommy to think he didn't like this. That Buck doesn't like him. In fact, Buck thinks he likes Tommy a lot.
He just… There's too much going on in his heart and mind right now, and he can't give this new thing, can't give Tommy, the attention he deserves.
But how can he put that into words?
"Tommy, I… I…"
"Evan", Tommy stops him, and something at the tone of his voice puts Buck on edge. It's too casual, too… Neutral. "This… It doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to"
"But it did mean something!", Buck exclaims, and this time he's the one grabbing Tommy's hand. He looks at it, a frown between his eyebrows. "I… I don't want you to think it didn't. I just… There's too much…"
Buck can feel tears of frustration burning at the corner of his eyes, because if the timing was different, he'd be over the moon about this kiss.
Next time Bobby starts talking about God's timing and how it's always right, Buck will throw something at him.
"Okay", Tommy says, and is like the tension has left his voice, that unnatural neutrality gone. "Okay. I get it. We don't have to figure this out right now."
"We don't?", Buck asks, and he's aware of how vulnerable he must sound.
Tommy, however, just nods, that lovely smile finding its way back into his face.
"We don't. We'll put a pin on it, okay? Until you're ready to unpin it."
"Okay", Buck agrees, unable to keep a sigh of relief from escaping his lips. But then, another fear occurs to him. "But… But can we still see each other until then? Like… Can we be friends again?"
Buck laughs at himself the moment he says the last word, rolling his eyes. "Gosh. I sound like a fourth grader."
"Hey, as long as you share your lunchbox", Tommy quips, and Buck lets out a wet laugh. Then Tommy gets serious again. "I don't plan on going anywhere. Just… Don't ghost me like that again, okay?"
To Buck's surprise, it seems like Tommy is the one on the verge of tears now. "It… It felt awful", he says, his voice small and vulnerable, and guilt pools into Buck's stomach.
"Yeah, of course. I won't. I am sorry for it, Tommy. I… I should have handled it better. It just…"
"Hey, no, I get it. I appreciate the apology, but I get it. I… I figure you have a lot on your plate."
A small hysterical laugh escapes Buck's lips. "Talk about an understatement."
He wraps his arms around himself, that sadness and despair that's become so familiar over the last few months threatening to take over again.
"It's just… Nothing's been the same ever since the accident, you know?", Buck admits, and Tommy takes a while to speak, as if he's carefully choosing his words.
"If you want to tell me about it… The accident or how it's been like since… I'm here. But if you don't, it's fine. I won't ask. It's your story."
Buck shrugs, petting Sunny once more. His dog has been very quiet ever since Tommy arrived, but she seems relaxed now. Her tail wags lazily when Buck pets her, but otherwise, she seems quite content just lying by his feet and listen to their conversation.
"I don't need to tell you", he deflects, not looking at Tommy. "You already know what happened."
"No", Tommy answers without hesitation, and Buck looks up in surprise. "I know what the press says that happened. I know what everyone's heard through LAFD's grapevine. I don't know what it was like for you."
With a pang to his chest, Buck realizes that he hasn't told his version of the story. Not really. The people closest to him were all there when it happened. And, no doubt trying to protect him, none of them have asked what it felt like.
Buck's next realization is that… He wants to tell. He's spent the last few months thinking that, maybe if he tried to put the accident behind him and focused on adapting to life without his leg, things would be easier.
Things are not easier.
Because this is about much more than his leg.
It's about closing his eyes at night and having the ghost feeling of hot pavement under his cheek. It's about being unable to forget the sheer pain of having a full firetruck pressing you against the ground.
Buck only notices he's crying when a sob escapes his chest and Tommy reaches out to wipe a tear off his cheek.
"Hey, hey", he says, impossibly gentle. "I'm sorry. We can talk about something else. Or I can leave. Whatever you choose."
"No", Buck whispers, his hand reaching for Tommy's wrist so he keeps touching his face. "Please, stay."
"Of course", Tommy answers without hesitation. "Do you want to talk about something else?"
"No", Buck says, more certain than he's been about anything in months. "I… I want to tell you what it felt like."
Tommy holds his gaze for a moment; he doesn't try to move his hand again. He just gently rubs his thumb in Buck's cheek; it feels good, and tender, and like being cared for.
Finished TADC Episode 9. And I'ma be real. I really hated this episode and it undid virtually everything I loved about the series.
If it was meant to be about the world moving on, why is it literally titled “Remember”? Part of why I hated this finale so much is that it’s the exact conclusion I’d have expected… with Episode 5. I don’t even care about the brain scan theory being true, escaping was never the point, it was finding meaning in a stagnant life.
The characters reinforce that all the time with the events and build up to this. Pomni’s biggest fear is dying alone and being forgotten. Kinger outright tells you the worst thing you can do in this world is not make them feel wanted. Pomni refuses to give up on Jax until the very end. The whole point of the series was never forgetting what came before and enjoying that life you were given, and looking after others all the same.
To me, the ending just completely undoes all of that. Pomni’s greatest fear is dying alone? Jax dies alone and it happens off-screen. “The worst thing you can do is make somebody feel they’re not wanted?”. Jax’s isolation with everyone and Pomni just walking away from him is so OOC and disgusting, and everyone gets to enjoy hugging each other and saying they’ll be okay WITHOUT him. Pomni refusing to give up on Jax until the end? She’s told to move on by her friends and is HAPPIER that way, all while Abstracted!Jax and the other abstractions are treated like wild beasts while everyone going on adventures with Caine as the new member. And reminder that Abstraction is a metaphor for suicide. Losing the will to live. Everyone is sad Jax is gone but they sure as shit are shown to be better off without them.
And don’t get me started on how Jax is shown to be irredeemable while Caine — somebody who did far worse than Jax — is forgiven and let on the team after torturing them for TWO WEEKS. And it’s implied that it was Bubble doing it given Bubble is strongly implied to be the blue AI! They should NOT have forgiven them and it gives such a horrible message for forgiving your abusers, but Jax being gone is something worth moving on from? That we’re just supposed to accept the status quo being reversed is a thing? They weren’t even consistent about the fact glitching from Abstraction is painful, they literally drag them to it all the same!
But above all else, I absolutely fucking hated how Jax was and Gooseworx’s blatant dislike of him as a character. Yes, he was an asshole, bully and extremely flawed person. But it was a cry of help. He needed help. It doesn’t excuse what he’s done, of course, but it doesn’t give no reason why he’s masking his fear, and Pomni comes SO CLOSE to helping him. And yet this is a character whose creator says he deserves to be in the Circus. This is a character whose creator was disappointed there was less Jax torture stuff after Episode 7. I get why, Gooseworx based Jax off of herself pre-transition and how much of a bitter asshole she was, but that does not excuse it when your message is effectively “yes, Caine effectively tortured the cast for two weeks, but Jax is mean, and that’s worse because if you’re mean, people would be better off without you being alive for it!”. I knew I fucking HATED this episode because while Jax was rampaging around as an abstraction, Pomni and Ragatha were having a therapy heart-to-heart about their traumas WHILE THIS WAS HAPPENING. GIRLS, NOW’S NOT THE TIME.
Episode 9 of The Amazing Digital Circus was a fucking atrocious ending to an amazing series that is so fucking bad IMHO it killed my love for the series, because it’s not just invalidating it’s entire point, it’s glaringly hypocritical and irresponsible about how they handle Jax versus Caine, and I was so disgusted that the Digital!Jax just NEVER MATTERED in the long run. As somebody who has failed to save people from suicide, this is a fucking knife in my heart because the message it’s putting out is fucking ATROCIOUS. This series failed Jax and moreover it failed its entire thesis as a whole. FUCK.
Jax if she wasn't a huge piece of shit.
"Jax if she wasn't a huge piece of shit." - Image: Transfem!Jax
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"The amount of art of Jax getting tortured really went down after we revealed that he wants to kill himself, and I'm still sad about that"
And honestly, it's from stuff like this that I thought that some people are only getting validation from the potential of their headcanons being canon so they can go "see?! I didn't like an icky male character after all!", and as such the idea of it only being a headcanon and not affecting canon doesn't really compute to them? Not to mention the fact that it genuinely did feel with this that Gooseworx had (frankly very understandable) frustrations with men and (less understandably) had internalized misandry over it.
And I get that feeling in hindsight. The only male in TADC who's normal has to be Kinger, and even then he's explicitly a wife or "safe" guy whose dementia is played for laugh. Jax is an abusive, traumatized asshole. Caine outright tortured the players for years and was infantilized as the blue AI causing his "autism" and just running over that. Bubble is outright evil due to being the blue AI. It just completely misses the point it was going and misses what Jax represents to a LOT of people. Telling them "the world would be better off without somebody like Jax" and showing everyone happy and moving on with their lives is just awful.
I get it. Jax was based of pre-transition Gooseworx. I do not fault Gooseworx for sparing him no sympathy as Goose wasn't just miserable back then, but deeply depressed. But that's not the kind of message you send to people, especially people like my friend who identified with him. It's such a fucking awful way to end the series by showing everyone happy and okay and moving on and them being kept in effectively a zoo. It's just so fucking bad.
There's so many plot holes and unanswered stuff on top of that. What was C&A? Was Bubble the blue AI? Was Bubble tied to Caine or something else? How are they able to rebuild the moon or what-not? Why are you able to enter somebody's mind post-abstraction? Why is glitching out not painful? There's so many problems with this episode it feels like Goose just giving up and wanting to move on.
I think the second worst thing is Caine is forgiven and just outright replaces Jax on the team. Despite all the hell and abuse he's put the team through for YEARS. I get it's in the name of "forgiveness," but why is Jax seen as more irredeemable than Caine? As somebody who's very much like Caine personality-wise (bubbly extroversion, need for approval and tone-deaf due to Autism), Caine represents me at my WORST and I see Caine given a pass for extremely awful behavior. And the way he removes the blue AI and just "cures" his Autism is fucking HORRIBLE. It's a TERRIBLE message to send to people overall. "Like, yeah, I'm a neurodivergent-coded mess who tortured you for years, but Jax is mean, and that's worse! Forgive me, not him!"
But the moment the episode lost me for good, though? Abstracted!Jax being dragged via a leash into a tent to calm down like a wild animal.
It's very clear Goose HATES Jax and it's just so fucking disapponting that this is what we get after each episode outdid the latter and it killed my love for the series.
If they tried to make it a story about how "you can't save everyone," they failed utterly. Everyone BUT Jax got a happy ending, despite Jax being more than just about Goose. People loved and kinned this character and everyone just moved on from him. It's a horrible betrayal.
Fucking garbage ending that destroys all the good the last eight episodes brought. 4.5/10, easily the worst episode of the series IMHO.
Abled people not only believe that almost all disability is something disabled people can "push through" but also that every disabled person who can "push through" should be doing so all of the time, everyday and especially during moments important to them as abled people.
They actively believe that disability is something you can ignore if you just suck it up enough. They actively believe that disbaled people are being selfish or intentionally lazy if they dont push through every single time an abled person wants them to. Like they do understand that is absolutely insane right? Like they realize the entitlement and judgement and misunderstandings they are spreading right???
Like I wanna believe they genuinely don't realize that people have it harder than just some back pain after work but at some point it's ridiculous they expect you to just make it work when it's not possible.
Ive been actively falling or groaning from pain and abled people have expected me to suck it up for 6 hours and work a shift 💀 I genuinely think (or at least HOPE) they dont understand that people live with 7 or 8/10 pain every single day and not get used to it but not vocalize it because when they were in that pain, an amount they arnt used to, they groaned out and made it everyone's problem. If I vocalized every single time my pain was bad enough I justify a vocalization of that pain, I'd get called an attention whore because I'd be doing it so often. They litterally do not understand chronic pain can be bad, not be taken seriously because "doctors know" and their quality of life drops because of said pain.
I've said it before and I'll say it again, moderate chronic pain is something I wouldn't wish on my own rapists or abusers. I'd wish death on them before I'd wish chronic pain. It's like daily torture you just either have to destroy your liver with the max amount of over the counter pain meds god can provide, dope up so much you can't work or suffer through unmedicated. The sad part? You never truly get used to it. On a larger sense you do, eventually you stop noticing and focusing on it and your brain eventually tunes it out but you never stop feeling it. It dosent go away. Of course there's good days and bad days but being in pain every single day all over your body at a solid 5/10 destroys your mental health. I don't think many abled people realize how much it hurts mentally to be in pain and often immobile due to just pain. Especially on the bad days when you can't tune it out and you can't move and your trapped. You only see the ok days and the good days. Any bad days we don't show because we are often crying and exhausted and not taking care of ourselves and stuck at home.
I genuinely think they don't realize how bad it actually is and that's why they don't understand why someone could physically not do something.
Pain is your body's way of warning you that something is wrong. Your body is the same as a newborn, although it can babble (make you feel weird to warn you) and giggle ( make you happy when your happy) it only has one singular response to negatives, crying (pain). Pain is your body saying hey! Something's wrong! Do something! And that's it. You can either ignore it and endure it or do something about it but you can't get rid of it. Its dangerous to ignore pain. It means you are actively ignoring the only warning sign your body can give you to let you know something is wrong and is becoming more wrong. All that ignoring the mental toll pain can cause, especially when paired with depression, anxiety and low self-esteem which are basically prepacked with every disability out the gate.
No, that disabled person can't push through. They can't.
And they shouldn't, because it can easily cause more damage and thus more pain and a longer healing time.
And they don't have to just because it's slightly inconveniencing you, able-bodied person.
Its not personal, it's not laziness, it's a fucking disability. I'm begging you to, if not gaining some empathy, get some fucking sympathy. Everyone is capable of that. Its called fucking compassion. Its called understanding. Stop hurting and ignoring the consent of disabled people because they can't do what you want. You don't know their body better than them.
