tommy piloting a water rescue. his crew brings up two victims and he doesn't have a ton of attention to spare, but he can tell it isn't going great for at least one of them.
then over the grunting of the medic providing chest compressions, a familiar voice cries out, "goddammit." it's howie, and he sounds wrecked. "buck, breathe."
They are two hours out from end of shift, so Tommy's attention is mostly on what groceries he needs to pick up before he goes home and the rest of his focus is on fighting the wind that is picking up. Jacinto, the floater taking over from Pearson while the latter recovers from his broken left arm, is working the winch, and he's good enough that he gets their third – Doc, nicknamed for his initials – and the two victims into the back in record time.
"All secure?" Tommy asks over the comms.
"Get us outta here, T," Doc grunts.
Tommy steers them towards land. He is mentally weighing between climbing altitudes to chance less choppy winds and cutting across the gusts when he hears a familiar voice.
"... goddammit, Buck, breathe, you gotta breathe, Maddie will kill you and then me if you don't," Chimney says.
Tommy's an excellent pilot. He knows that only the other pilots really understand how fucking good he is, and he's fine with that. But he is the best at what he does, and that is the only reason why the entire team is still in the air.
Every cell in his body wants to turn around and check for himself the condition that Evan is in, but his mental discipline keeps him looking ahead and focused on his task.
His hand tightens on the cyclic and he picks up speed and height, climbing towards the clouds, and then he pushes ahead with only one goal in mind: get Evan Buckley to the hospital.
They land with barely a bump because Tommy is so focused on the job. Once they land, a team rushes out and hurries Chimney and Evan away. Tommy doesn't know if Chimney even registered who the pilot is.
After seeing the doors swing close behind the ER team, Tommy unbuckles from the seat, struggles out of the bird, doubles over and throws up on the H-pad, barely missing the ankles of his flight suit.
"Jesus H. Christ, Tommy, what's the matter with you?" Jacinto asks, scrambling out as well to pat Tommy between his shoulder blades.
When Doc joins them, Tommy waves a weak hand. "It's okay, I'll be okay."
I'll be okay. Evan will be okay. He has to be. He has to be.
At the end of my shift I will come here. I will come here and I will talk to him and I will beg him to take me back if I have to. As long as he's okay, I will do anything.
Tommy thinks he's murmuring under his breath. With the taste of bile still lingering in the back of his throat, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"You sure you're up to flying?" Doc asks. His platinum blond hair is curling from the damp.
Tommy nods. "Let's get back. Don't let Melton know about this."
