Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I came to explore the wreck. 

The words are purposes.

The words are maps.

2023

Thunder clapped above, the dark heavy clouds gathering over Tommy’s head. Rain poured down heavily, like the sky had burst right open. Usually, when it rained in LA, it was a light sprinkle, but the way the rain was falling from the sky could only be described as a complete downpour. Every few minutes, a flash of lightning illuminated the black night air, the soft purple bolts reminding Tommy of the storms that used to roll through Blaine. 

When Howie had called out of the blue – he hadn’t spoken to the man in well over a year – to ask for a favor, Tommy had been quick to offer his help. But, as the sky rumbled angrily overhead and the wind whipped across the tarmac, Tommy was beginning to regret being so generous. Sure, he’d do a bit to help an old friend, but it was a bit much Howie was asking. 

Worst case, they’d crash and die a painful, fiery death. Best case, they’d get fired. 

Sighing, Tommy accepted his fate as he pulled his jacket tighter around him to block the wind out. It certainly wasn’t the stupidest thing he’d ever done and, hopefully, wouldn’t be the last.

“Kinard!” 

Tommy turned toward the sound of his name, grinning when he spotted Howie walking out onto the tarmac, followed by two other firefighters. 

Unsurprisingly, Howie practically yanked him into a quick embrace the second he was close enough. Tommy’s former co-worker had always been a fan of hugs and that clearly hadn’t changed in the years since Tommy left the 118. 

“Thanks for doing this,” Howie said gratefully once he’d pulled away from Tommy. As if he wouldn’t have bullied Tommy into doing it anyways if Tommy had tried to say no. Stepping back a little, he motioned to the other two firefighters with him. “That’s Eddie and Buck.” 

Tommy shook hands with Eddie before turning to Buck, who he’d hear plenty of stories about over the years. Howie had once described him as a human golden retriever and Tommy had to admit, the man wasn’t wrong. His blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and the way he was practically bouncing back and forth on the tarmac all distinctly reminded Tommy of a puppy. 

“I’m um– Evan,” Evan introduced himself, his hand shooting out to shake Tommy’s eagerly. “Evan Buckley.” 

Over Evan’s shoulder, he saw Howie quirk an eyebrow slightly, so Tommy got the feeling Evan wasn’t in the habit of introducing himself by his actual legal name. 

He had to admit, the stammering nervous act was sort of cute. He wasn’t the type of guy Tommy usually went for – they tended to be a bit closer to Tommy’s age for starters, and far more nonchalant than Evan Buckley seemed to be – but there was something about the other man that Tommy found endearing. 

It was probably just his eyes. Tommy had always been a sucker for blue eyes. 

“Tommy Kinard,” he replied, clasping his hand around Evan’s own. 

Evan shot him a grin and Tommy strangely found himself smiling back, the action an almost unconscious thought.  

It was definitely just his eyes. And his smile. 

That was absolutely all it was. 

1989

Rain pounded on the windows of Tommy’s room, the deafening roars of thunder in the sky outside almost enough to drown out the sounds of his parents yelling. 

At five years old, Tommy liked to think he was pretty smart. His mama always told him he was. He was smart enough, at least, to know that not everyone’s parents fought the way his did. That his classmates’ dads didn’t spend some nights screaming loud enough that Tommy was certain he must have woken half the town up. That their dads didn’t hit their moms, and sometimes them too. That their moms didn’t make them take their little brother and hide under the bed until she told them it was safe to come out again. 

Luca pressed closer to him as a clap of thunder practically shook the house, his little brother crying softly. 

Sometimes, when they had to hide under the bed, Tommy wanted to cry too. Most of the time really. But Tommy was the big brother, an old and wise five to Luca’s three, which meant it was his job to keep Luca safe. That was what Mama always said anyways. 

Eventually, the front door slammed shut and the headlights of his father’s truck flashed brightly through Tommy’s windows before the squeal of tires signaled him driving off. His mama came to put him and Luca to bed not long after that, shushing Tommy quietly when he tried to stutter out a question.

~~~

The nights when Tommy and Luca had to hide under the bed became less and less frequent as the year passed, but it wasn’t because his father had suddenly had a change of heart. 

It was because his mama was having a baby. 

She’d been convinced it was another boy, and had spent the entire pregnancy telling Tommy and Luca they were going to have a new little brother. Yet, on a quiet morning in November, on a day where the rest of the world was watching some wall in Germany crumble to the ground, their father brought them to the hospital to see their mama and, not a brother, but a little sister. 

“Her name’s Beatrice,” his mama told him softly, gently placing the baby in his arms where he was curled up next to her on the hospital bed. “Bea.” 

The baby was swaddled tightly in a blanket, a tiny pink cap covering her head. Her face was scrunched up and Tommy privately thought that she wasn’t all that cute, but he knew better than to tell his mama that. 

“She’s real little,” he commented, careful not to bump her head like his mama had reminded him a bajillion times. 

A lot littler than Luca, that was for sure. Mr. McCreary from next door had a dog who’d had puppies earlier in the year, and they were practically as big as the baby. 

“Well, that’s why she needs you to protect her,” his mama told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

~~~

Three weeks later, when the peace that had descended over the house while their mother was pregnant with Bea finally ended, Tommy fulfilled his mama’s expectations. Instead of it just being him and Luca under the bed while the storm that was his father raged outside his bedroom, Bea was there too, clutched tightly in Tommy’s arms. Safe and sound, no matter what. 

2023

The chopper shook as Tommy flew them through the storm, the wind tossing it back and forth like a boat in a rough current.

Silence had fallen over the helicopter once they’d taken off, and it was slightly unnerving, not that Tommy would admit it. Of course, the giant storm they were flying into wasn’t helping his anxiety in the slightest. But Tommy was used to the constant chatter of his co-pilot, Cameron, in his ear and without her, the cabin felt shockingly empty despite the four firefighters crammed inside with him like sardines. 

“Maybe you should say something,” Evan’s voice, barely a whisper, suddenly crackled across the comms. 

Tommy bit back a snort of laughter, shaking his head slightly. The guy had been a firefighter for years and he still didn’t know how a radio worked?

“I should say something?” Howie asked in disbelief. “Why should I say something?”

“It is kind of tense in here,” Diaz agreed quickly. 

No shit it was tense. What did they think flying into a hurricane was going to be like? LAFD helicopters didn’t exactly come equipped with a fleet of flight attendants that passed around peanuts and iced drinks to make their passengers feel more comfortable. 

“How is that my fault?” Howie questioned, his tone almost whiny. “How much more proof does she need that we have her back, besides me lying to Captain Collier, and telling him that we all had bad sushi for lunch so we could skip out on the rest of our shift in order to aid and abet in the virtual theft of an LAFD chopper for an unauthorized jaunt to a foreign land?”

Tommy could practically feel a headache forming at the reminder of what he’d gotten himself into. Or rather, what Howie had gotten him into. Sure, he’d been in worse situations, and they weren’t actually going to a foreign land – they weren’t even really going to Mexico – but stealing a helicopter definitely wasn’t going to end well for any of them, and neither was flying during a hurricane. 

He’d known all of that before agreeing to helping Howie and Hen out and yet, here he was. He really needed to stop owing Howie favors. 

It never ended well for him. 

Ever. 

“Who asked you to?” Hen spat out, apparently fed up of listening to the peanut gallery in the back seat. 

“Oh, I-I think this is an open channel,” Evan whispered to Howie and Eddie, as if that cat wasn’t already out of the bag. 

Seriously, you would think the kid had never used a radio before. 

“Do you, Buck? Do you really?” Howie asked, exasperation running through his voice. 

“You didn't do anything wrong. Okay?” Hen suddenly cut in. “You don't have to prove anything to me. Can we just drop it?” 

And of course, because Howie was Howie, there would be no dropping it. Tommy wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the man simply give up an argument, even over something as simple as what the best Christmas movie was – although Love Actually was the obvious choice. Howie was simply as stubborn as they come. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no. We're not dropping it. If I didn't do anything wrong, you didn't do anything wrong first,” Howie argued. 

“Okay,” Hen shot back, equally if not more stubborn than her partner. 

“Fine!”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Tommy was about two seconds away from just giving in and letting the storm take them when Diaz finally intervened, sparing them all from their suffering. 

“Come on, guys,” Eddie said, somewhat pleadingly. “Stop agreeing with each other like you're fighting. It's weird.”

Really weird. 

“Okay, so we're good?” Evan asked hopefully once it became clear Howie and Hen were done with their odd little spat. 

“We were always good, Buck,” Hen responded, sounding as tired as Tommy felt. 

Which wasn’t really fair, seeing as how he was the one flying them into a hurricane and everything. God, he’d forgotten how exhausting being with the 118 could be sometimes. Somehow, somehow, they just happened to have the worst luck of any station in the entire city. Sure, every station had weird stuff happen, but the really weird shit?

It only ever happened when the 118 was involved. 

“So why didn't you reach out to us?” Howie countered, and Tommy could feel yet another argument brewing faster than the storm outside the chopper. 

“Because I knew you'd insist on coming, and I didn't want you putting everything at risk over some wild hunch that I can't even prove,” Hen replied. 

Well, that was just great. They were flying into the middle of the storm to look for a cruise ship that might not even be there? 

They were so fucked. 

“Hey, listen, I'd back your hunches any day of the week, no questions asked,” Evan assured Hen. 

God, the guy really was like a golden retriever. Stupidly loyal till the very end. 

“Truth,” Eddie agreed. “Besides, it's Cap and Athena. If there's any chance they're in trouble, let them fire us, who cares?”

“You hear that, Tommy?” Howie spoke up, as if he didn’t have them all jabbering away in his ears thanks to the state of the art comms system. “That is the spirit of the 118.”

Last time Tommy had checked, the spirit of the 118 had been more about keeping your head down while being ruled over by a psycho tyrant of a captain, but then again, things had probably changed since he’d left. 

“Yeah, that should be our motto,” Evan insisted. “Who cares?!”

Tommy wasn’t sure who cared, but it definitely wasn’t them. 

“That's not a very good motto,” Eddie argued back. 

“Well, not if you take it out of context,” Evan replied. 

For Christ’s sake, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I don't think anyone should worry about getting fired right now,” he cut in coolly.

Because, seriously? At this point, that was the least of their problems. Tommy got the feeling Captain Nash must be the only person who ever considered the consequences of the 118’s actions. 

“Because our cause is righteous?” Howie asked cockily. 

“Because we're flying into a hurricane. Probably all gonna die anyway,” Tommy told them. 

Silence fell over the chopper and yeah, maybe he was being a bit of a buzzkill, but if it meant he didn’t have to listen to Hen and Howie bickering in his ear, he’d take it. 

A sharp clap of thunder rumbled outside the metal walls, as if agreeing with his statement. 

1992

A growth spurt at eight that resulted in Tommy growing taller and lankier than almost every other boy in his class and the addition of newborn baby Celia to the house meant hiding under Tommy’s bed wasn’t an option anymore. It had been cramped enough with Bea, but with Tommy’s added height and a baby - no matter how tiny Celia was - it was impossible. Instead, they hunkered down in Tommy’s room, where he read an old, beat-up copy of Peter Pan under his breath to keep Celia and Bea quiet as Luca watched with wide eyes, flinching with every loud crash that came from the living room. 

There was nothing else they could do. Nowhere else to wait out their father’s rage. Nowhere to run. 

Nowhere to hide from the storm. 

I came to see the damage that was done

and the treasures that prevail.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

2023

“What the hell was he thinking?” Tommy asked Eddie as he helped the other man hobble up his front steps and inside the house. 

Honestly, it had been a while since Tommy had been friends with people outside of work – well, technically you could say Eddie was still work-adjacent, but as long as he didn’t work at Harbor, Tommy figured it counted – and he had to admit, it was nice. Sure, he hung out with his co-workers from the 127 a fair amount, but they were more friends out of proximity, not because they actually had things in common. But Eddie liked watching fights and seemed decently interested in the old cars Tommy fixed up in his spare time. He’d yet to find someone to hang out with that was actually invested in watching F1 racing, but hey, no one was perfect. 

“He wasn’t,” Eddie replied with a huff as he dropped onto the couch. “That’s Buck for ya.”

“Yeah but aren’t you two,” Tommy waved his hand, trying to find the words he wanted. “I don’t know, best friends, or whatever?”

Tommy hadn’t had a best friend in, well–

The years weren’t important, but still, he knew you didn’t shoulder check a guy to the ground and practically break his ankle if he was your best friend. 

“Buck just gets… passionate about things,” Eddie explained. “And that usually translates to him doing dumb shit. He’ll realize it sooner or later and apologize and then flash me guilty puppy dog eyes until I forgive him.” 

The matter-of-fact manner Eddie described Buck’s actions in had Tommy thinking this wasn’t the first time the man had done something like this. 

Tommy had enough self-awareness to admit that he liked Evan Buckley. Or, at the very least, was attracted to the guy. There was just something about the other firefighter that drew Tommy to him. This whole jealous act though?

Tommy wasn’t sure he liked that. 

“Just give him a chance,” Eddie assured him.

_____________________________________________________________________________

1994

The setting summer sun cast the baseball field in a warm glow, providing just enough time for Tommy’s baseball practice to wrap up. 

Summers were always easier for the Kinards. The long days meant Tommy and Luca could make themselves scarce most of the time, having been deemed old enough by their ma to run free around town with their friends, keeping them far away from their father. Warm weather meant more fish in the water of Birch Bay, so Tommy’s father tended to be somewhat happier when he came home from work, suntanned from being out on the boat all day and his pockets flush with cash from the fish market. Some days, he was even in such a good mood that he decided to come along with Tommy to baseball practice and sit with all the other dads on the bleachers, drinking beers and cheering on the boys. 

Tommy liked those nights the best. On those nights, he could pretend his father was just like all the other dads. Sometimes, on the way home, he would even compliment Tommy on his game. 

And everything had been going perfect, right up until the end of practice. They were scrimmaging and when Tommy threw a pitch right down the center to Johnny Andrews, Johnny swung hard, sending it straight back to Tommy. Or rather, straight back into Tommy’s eye. 

White hot pain flared through Tommy’s eye and he crumbled to the ground, heaving in shaky breaths. Distantly, he registered his coach crouching down next to him, trying to tilt Tommy’s head back to get a better look at his eye.

Suddenly though, his coach disappeared to be replaced by Tommy’s father, who towered over him, grabbing his arm in an iron grip as he dragged him away from the pitcher’s mound. 

“Man up and stop sniveling, Tom,” his father ordered harshly.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. 

“I’m not letting half the town think I’ve got some weak little fag for a son, got it?” the man demanded, shaking Tommy for emphasis. 

Tommy nodded as he scrubbed at the tears on his face despite the motion hurting his swollen eye, not wanting to risk angering his father anymore. But for some reason, that word stayed in his head. 

Fag

His father insulted him often and weak was certainly one of his more commonly used words - Patrick Kinard hated his sons appearing to be anything except tough - but that one was new. So, when Tommy’s father left for work the following morning, Tommy did what he always did when he wanted to know something and asked his mom about it. 

“Can I ask you something, Mama?” he inquired as he climbed up onto one of their kitchen stools, watching his mother crack eggs into a bowl. 

He’d purposefully waited until his father was at work and his younger siblings were out of the room, assuming the word wasn’t fit for their ears. 

“Sure, bambino,” she answered, giving him a warm smile as she handed him a few lemons and a bowl. “Zest those for me, would you?” 

Theresa Kinard was the polar opposite of her husband. Kind, caring, and loving towards her children. She cooked dinner every night, picked them up from school, tucked them in at night, and read stories in Italian to them. Her parents had immigrated from Italy before she was born but she ensured that every single one of her children was fluent in the language. 

Patrick, on the other hand, had never bothered to learn a single word of it. 

“What are you making?” Tommy asked, setting to work on the task his mother had given him. 

“Anginetti cookies,” his mother told him. “Bea’s class is having some sort of party tomorrow. Don’t worry though, I’ll save you and Luca some.”

Tommy smiled, focusing his attention on zesting the lemons. The longer he waited, the longer it took for the words to come. Usually, he didn’t hesitate to ask his mother anything. But something about this seemed… different. 

“What is it, piccolino?” Theresa asked, the smile on her face fading slightly in concern. 

Tommy bit his lip, hesitating for a moment, before deciding to go for it. 

“What’s a fag?” 

His mom faltered for a moment, halting in her stirring of the cookie dough. 

“Where’d you hear that?” she inquired tensely, looking up at Tommy. 

Tommy simply raised an eyebrow, knowing that his mom already knew the answer to her question.

She frowned slightly, clearly thinking over her answer as she added the eggs into the dough. 

Finally, she just smiled at him and took the bowl of lemon zest he’d finished grating. 

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, tesoro,” she told him. “Just… don’t go around repeating anything your father says, hm? Now, why don’t you go find your brother? I’ll need some taste testers for these.” 

Tommy wanted to push for a better answer, but the thought of giving his mother more stress was too much. She already had to deal with his father, and look after Celia, Luca, and Bea. He could see how tired she was, how tense she was all the time. Tommy could be the one person she didn’t have to worry about taking care of. So, recognizing the dismissal for what it was, he hopped down from the counter and went upstairs in search of Luca.

_____________________________________________________________________________

2023

Tommy wasn’t exactly sure what had led him to standing in front of Evan Buckley’s apartment so late at night. While he told himself it was only because he wanted to sort out the situation between Buck and Eddie, there was a tiny little nagging voice in his head that kept whispering that he had other, more selfish reasons for his visit.

He really hadn’t meant to stay longer, but the more time he spent talking with Evan - the more time he spent laughing with Evan - the harder it got to leave. 

It had been a bit longer than he cared to admit since he’d dated anyone, or really had any romantic interactions at all, a fact that was becoming painfully clear as he lingered in the other man’s apartment. He had no real reason to hang around chatting. After all, Buck hadn’t been his biggest fan - or had at the very least, been jealous of him - ever since he and Eddie had started hanging out. And yet, Tommy kept coming up with excuses to stay. 

“I could teach you,” he quickly offered when Evan admitted he didn’t know Muay Thai, blushing sheepishly in a way Tommy would deny finding cute if ever asked. 

His suggestion had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to see Evan shirtless and sweating. Absolutely nothing to do with it at all. 

“Okay. Is that gonna be right after our flying lessons?” Evan asked, somehow looking more excited than Tommy felt about their plans. 

“Probably not on the same day,” Tommy quipped in reply. 

“Good,” Evan said, sounding relieved. “Cause trying to get your attention has been kind of exhausting.”

The other man looked almost surprised when he spoke, as if he hadn’t anticipated that was what he was going to say. Honestly, Tommy hadn’t expected it either. 

“My attention?” Tommy clarified, raising an eyebrow. 

Tommy had assumed Buck’s whole act had been because he wanted Eddie’s attention but…

Well, the more he thought about it, it didn’t really make sense to shoulder check your friend to the ground because you wanted him to hang out with you more. Tommy wasn’t super successful when it came to friendships, but he was pretty sure that probably fell into one of the top five rules. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Evan admitted, brow furrowing as he thought about it, seeming about as confused as Tommy felt. “I mean, I...I did maim my best friend.” 

He laughed a little at that, his sky blue eyes twinkling just a bit as he blushed at the mention of what had happened earlier in the afternoon. Despite the flowing conversation, the room felt shockingly quiet, like everything was frozen, and all Tommy could do was listen to Evan babble away. 

“My sister says there are, uh, better ways to get someone's atten–” 

Tommy had always been the type of guy to act quickly. Not without thinking, mind you, but he just had a tendency to make decisions between one second and the next. And kissing Evan? Well, he’d been thinking about that for a while. 

The way he saw it, Tommy was just putting them both out of their misery. 

He froze when Tommy’s fingers brushed his chin, somehow growing even more still when their lips locked, but Tommy barely had time to consider he’d made the wrong choice before Evan was melting into the motion. 

His movements were hesitant and unsure, but Evan seemed more than happy to let Tommy take the lead, which he gladly did. The kiss was far too short for Tommy’s liking, the warm feel of his lips against the other man’s and the slight friction from day-old stubble an intoxicating feeling, but eventually he stepped back. 

“Like that?” he asked as he carefully watched for Evan’s reaction. 

Evan looked stunned, in a daze almost, but nodded furiously to Tommy’s question. He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, grinning with relief. 

“Yeah, that works,” he confirmed, his words quiet yet sure. 

“So that was okay?” Tommy checked again, his heart still going just a beat too fast in his chest.

Tommy had always been good at reading people, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that Evan wanted this as much as he did. Whether it was the man’s humor, or stubbornness, or ability to find a silver lining when they were flying through a hurricane, Tommy could just tell there was something special about him and Tommy wanted that something special. He wanted it more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. 

“It was better than fake mouth static,” Evan retorted with a lopsided grin. 

Tommy huffed a laugh, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. 

Evan Buckley was something special indeed. 

______________________________________________________________________________

1998

Freshman year was undeniably a rough time for Tommy. By the time he was 14, it was safe to say he felt decidedly different from everyone else his age. While his friends worried about baseball games and homework, Tommy had to worry about whether or not his father was going to come home drunk from work, or whether he and his mother would be able to pull enough spare cash together to afford the inhaler that his father insisted Celia didn’t need. 

“So who are you asking, Tommy?” his friend Jack asked him during lunch at school one afternoon. 

“Huh?” Tommy said, looking up from his textbook, having not been paying the slightest bit of attention to his friends’ conversations. 

He had baseball practice after school most days, followed by work at the grocery shop down the corner from the house. Which meant his only time to do homework and study was either late at night, once the dishes had been done after dinner and Bea and Celia were both in bed, or during lunch. 

“To the dance,” Jack clarified. “I’m taking Sarah.”

Tommy had honestly all but forgotten about the dance coming up the following weekend. He had bigger things to worry about, and unlike the rest of his friends, didn’t have girls on his mind 24/7. All they ever seemed to talk about anymore was girls or sports and Tommy wasn’t exactly sure why, considering less than two years ago they had all considered girls to be gross. 

“I’m not sure I’m going,” he replied. If he didn’t go to the dance, he could squeeze in an extra shift at the store on Saturday night. He didn’t really care that much about going anyways, and it’d mean a little extra cash at home, which was needed with Bea’s birthday coming up. 

Jack stared at him for a moment, seeming to think about something. He’d been Tommy’s best friend since they were 7, and although he was fairly certain that Jack had his suspicions about Tommy’s home life, he’d never directly addressed it, something Tommy was thankful for. 

“You should take Caro,” he said eventually, nodding across the room to something over Tommy’s shoulder. 

Tommy glanced behind his back, spotting Caroline Sullivan sitting with a group of her friends at another table. She was one of the more popular girls in the grade, but was still actually a decent person, unlike Jenny Sinclair who bullied practically half their class. She was pretty too, with pale blonde hair and soft forest green eyes, along with a slim build that came from playing soccer year round. 

“Maybe,” Tommy answered, looking back to Jack and turning his attention towards his text book again. 

When his mom found out about the dance two days later, she insisted Tommy went. So, he found himself attending the spring formal with Caro. He wasn’t quite sure what the big deal was, but it seemed to be something everyone thought he should do. His friends were excited for him,  his mom seemed to think he needed to have more fun, and his dad seemed oddly approving when Tommy told him the news. 

Which was why when Caro kissed him by the bleachers after the dance, he simply went along with it, despite not feeling a single thing. He knew it was supposed to be a big deal, your first kiss, but nothing felt different afterwards. A small part of him knew that he didn’t have the most normal reaction to being kissed, but it didn’t matter. It was what he was supposed to do. It was what everyone did. 

It was the normal thing to do.

Chapter Text

2001

His life got tipped upside down yet again the year he turned 17. Tommy’s birthday had been a few days prior, as usual overshadowed by the holiday season. Being a New Year’s baby wasn’t the greatest but he supposed it could have been worse if he’d been born on Christmas. The weather had been particularly bad that year, with a giant snowstorm landing during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. To Tommy, it seemed the Washington winters got worse every single year. He was walking home from work - no longer at a grocery store, but rather the mechanic’s down the road - when he spotted Celia racing down the sidewalk towards him. 

At nine years old, she was still small, and after Tommy’s growth spurt over the past year, she barely brushed his elbow. She had their father’s hair, except the curly strands were more of a fiery red than their father’s auburn straight ones. Her eyes also belonged to their father, a sharp emerald green, but with a kindness Patrick Kinard could never hope to have. Every other inch of her face, however, was the spitting image of their mother. Bea and Tommy took after their mom too, both with dark blue eyes and brown curly hair. Of all the Kinard children, Luca was the one who resembled their father the most. He had the same straight nose, the dark auburn hair, and the blazing green eyes that all belonged to Patrick.  

It wasn’t unusual for Celia to come racing towards him on his way home, his little sister too excited to tell him about her day to wait until he got to the house, so it wasn’t until she was within a few feet of him that he realized something was wrong. 

“Tommy!” she cried, barrelling straight into him without even an attempt to stop. 

His blood ran cold at the distress in his baby sister’s voice and he quickly knelt down, peeling the arms wrapped in a vice grip around his waist away so he could look at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cutting straight to the point as he braced his hands on her shoulders, eyes quickly scanning her over for any injuries. A spark of rage ran through him at the dark bruise on her wrist, a perfect blue imprint of what was no doubt their father’s fingers, but he swallowed it down to listen to Celia. 

“Dad–” she paused, gulping in a breath of air after she hiccuped out another sob. “Dad’s hurting Mama and L-Luca tried to stop him and now he’s hurt r-real bad and–”

Tommy cursed, not caring about little ears hearing him. His father had been worse as of late, drinking more and sparking into anger far more easily than he usually did. Winter was always a rough season in the Kinard house. His dad was a fisherman and winter meant less fish and less tourists to make money off of. Summer and early fall were better, with Birch Bay being filled with crabs, but once winter hit, they were in for a tough few months of scrapping together enough money to pay the bills. 

He’d done his best to keep his father from blowing a fuse thus far, but something must have set him off, and he knew without a doubt that Luca trying to get involved would have only made things worse. 

“Go on down to Caro’s,” he ordered his little sister. “Stay there until I come get you, understand?”

He and Caro had been dating for over three years at that point, and he knew his girlfriend wouldn’t turn Celia away for anything. She was the only person he’d ever told the truth about his dad to, having sworn her to secrecy. 

Tommy waited until his sister nodded, then watched for a moment as she began the four block walk to Caro’s before turning and making a dash for the house. 

He heard the screaming before he even got through the door and didn’t spare a second to close it before rushing into the kitchen. 

What he saw in the kitchen stayed permanently branded into his mind for the rest of his life. 

Luca was lying on the floor, completely still as blood poured out from the wound on his head, staining the pristine white tile below. He was pale as a ghost, his face devoid of any color apart from the blood and bruises that had already begun to form, and if it wasn’t for the slow, barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, Tommy would’ve said he was dead. 

The fear coursing through his veins was quickly replaced by the strongest rage he’d ever felt in his life, however, at the sight of his father pinning his mother against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat squeezing the life out of her. 

If it had been a few years prior, Tommy dreaded to think about what would have happened that night. But, by the grace of god, he’d grown three inches the summer going into his junior year, and between that and his summer training for baseball, he stood at 6 feet tall and had the muscle to go along with it. He matched his father in height and while he still lacked some of the build his father did, he made up for it in anger and adrenaline. 

Even decades later, Tommy couldn’t say what happened in the next few moments. Whether it was trauma or the fit of anger he’d fallen into, he simply couldn’t remember it. 

All he knew was one second his father had his mother up against the wall and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled away from his father’s limp body on the floor. 

“Tommy, stop it!” a familiar voice ordered, strong hands holding him back as someone dragged his father away to increase the distance. “You’re gonna kill him!”

He didn’t pay a single second of attention to whoever was speaking to him, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of his father’s bruised and bloody face. His body was still trembling with rage, his aching knuckles itching to land yet another punch. But then someone stepped between and his father and suddenly there was a face blocking Tommy’s view from the rest of the kitchen. 

“It’s over, Tommy,” Drew told him, gently but firmly, his hands resting steadily against Tommy’s shoulders. 

Caro’s brother was seven years older than either of them, and an officer at the local police department. At 6’4, Tommy thought he’d be intimidating, but the man had a calming demeanor that was easy to trust. 

Celia must’ve sent him, Tommy thought as he finally stopped fighting Drew’s grip, sinking back down to the floor and breathing heavily. 

His mom was on the other side of the kitchen, kneeling beside a now conscious Luca. Both were pale and shaking, and Luca’s head would need to be looked at, but were safe otherwise. 

One of Drew’s friends, Billy, had his father restrained and was moving him out of the kitchen, not that he was in much of a fighting condition anymore. 

“It’s over, kid,” Drew promised, drawing him into a tight embrace as Tommy’s shoulders started shaking with sobs. “It’s all over.”

~~~~

The waiting room was quiet at that time of night and there were only a few other people nearby. Tommy and Theresa had both been checked out and deemed fine, but they hadn’t heard about Luca yet, who had disappeared into an exam room with several doctors about half an hour ago. 

“Do you want to file a report?” Drew asked Tommy’s mother, who simply shook her head. 

“What good would it do?” she replied bitterly.

And that was where the problem laid. It was the reason she’d sat by for years doing nothing as her husband hit her and her children. It was why she never tried to leave him. She just couldn’t. Theresa had tried to press charges once, back when Tommy was little, but Patrick had weaseled his way out of them. 

Tommy’s father was close with Sheriff Taylor, having served in the Marines with the man. Even if they filed a report, Sheriff Taylor would ensure none of the charges stuck. Hell, charges probably wouldn’t even get pressed. 

Drew sat there for a moment then glanced over at Billy, the two of them seeming to have a silent conversation. Finally, he turned back to them. 

“We can take care of it,” Drew offered as easily as if he was just volunteering to mow the front lawn. 

As if he wasn’t offering to–

Tommy glanced at his mother, noting her hesitation.

“I… I wouldn’t want to get you boys in any trouble,” she said eventually, the pain of turning down the offer clear as day on her face. 

“Don’t worry about us, ma’am,” Billy told her, seeming just as eager as Drew to handle the situation. 

Theresa bit her lip and Tommy could see the internal battle going on in his mom’s head. After all, trying to get rid of his father had never worked before. And every single time, it blew up in their faces. It just made things worse. But the fact of the matter was, if nothing changed, he was going to kill one of them. Maybe Tommy. Maybe his mom. Maybe one of the girls. It couldn’t go on. Not anymore. 

“Please, Ma,” Tommy begged, reaching forward to grasp his mother’s hand as he stared pleadingly into blue eyes that matched his own. “Let them help.”

After one of the longest moments of Tommy’s life, his mother nodded, and the breath he’d been holding rushed out of his lungs. 

“Okay,” she agreed. “Do whatever you have to do.”

~~~~

The screen door squeaked open as Caro stepped outside, wooden floorboards creaking as she crossed the front porch to sit on the porch swing beside Tommy. 

“Here,” she said, handing him a warm, steaming mug. “Thought you could use it.” 

His mom had stayed at the hospital with Luca while Drew drove Tommy back to his and Caroline’s house, only staying for a moment before he and Billy drove off to deal with Tommy’s father. Drew hadn’t exactly been generous with the details of their plan, but Tommy really couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

As long as his father was gone, Tommy was okay with whatever they had to do. 

“Thanks,” he replied quietly, taking a sip of what was apparently hot cocoa. 

“Celia’s asleep,” Caro told him, curling her feet up on the swing the way she always did. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, a poor attempt at protection from the cold winter night. Tommy knew he should probably be inside instead of out in the cold, but for some reason, the thought of being inside at that moment was almost suffocating. “And I called the Talbot’s, they’re keeping Bea for the night.”

Shit. In all the chaos, Tommy had all but forgotten about his younger sister. She had gone to her best friend Ellie’s house after school and Tommy hadn’t even bothered to check in on her. He hadn’t checked on Celia either, hadn’t even stepped foot in the house. He’d simply gotten out of Drew’s car and sat himself down on the porch swing, where he’d remained for the past hour. It had to be close to midnight, he knew, and his mind started racing with all the things he had to do. 

“I-I should go,” he said, running a hand through his hair and yanking on strands, as if that would somehow help his mind reboot. “I-I’ve got to fix the kitchen and I should check on Luca and Celia needs–”

“Tommy, stop,” Caroline ordered gently, reaching out to tug him back down onto the swing. “Just breathe.”

He found himself drawing in a breath of air without his consent, and it eased the aching in his chest just a little. As he exhaled, his breath fogged in the cold night air, vanishing into the dark sky. 

“You don’t need to do anything right now,” his girlfriend reminded him. “Billy and Drew are taking care of your dad. Celia’s asleep and Bea’s safe with the Talbot’s. Your mom’s with Luca. Everyone’s fine. For once, just… just focus on you, okay?”

As always, Caroline knew just what to say to talk him off a ledge. Part of him was always surprised they had lasted as long as they did, but they just clicked. He’d never felt the sparks everyone talked about, or passion, or any sort of fireworks, but he loved Caro. He really did. 

He just wasn’t sure he loved her the way he was supposed to. 

But Caroline knew that and for whatever reason, they stayed together anyway. Sometimes, he was convinced they just did it out of a fear of being alone more than anything else. Caroline’s parents had died five years ago, so it was just her and Drew. They’d lived with an aunt for a while, but once Drew got old enough to take custody, they’d moved into their own place. He got the sense Caro felt like she didn’t really belong, at least, not in their tiny town where everyone fit the same cookie-cutter description. And Tommy, well… part of Tommy always felt alone. 

So sure, they might not have been the greatest romance in the history of the world. They were nothing like the love famous authors and poets wrote about. But they were Tommy and Caro. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Partners. Best friends against the rest of the world. 

Caroline rested her head against his shoulder and he curled an arm around her, greedily taking in the warmth she radiated. 

“Are you okay?” Caroline asked him eventually, her soft words echoing through the night. 

Tommy drew in a sharp breath, letting it out slowly as he considered the question. His father was gone, but that was what he’d always wanted. The girls were okay. Luca was going to be alright. His mom was finally safe. Tommy wasn’t hurt, not really. Sure, his knuckles still ached, and he was pretty sure his dad had landed a few hits in, but the cold had numbed most of that. 

And yet despite all of that, he felt the farthest thing from okay. 

He should be happy, happy that his father was gone. Or angry that it’d taken so long to get rid of him, angry that they’d had to get rid of someone who was supposed to love them. Or worried about Luca, and about what would come next for all of them. 

But instead, all he felt was numb. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been okay,” he admitted quietly. 

Caroline hummed, the vibration echoing through her chest from where she was curled up against Tommy. She glanced up at him, green eyes full of surety. 

“I know,” she answered gently. “But Tommy? One day you will be.”

They sit there on the porch for another twenty minutes in silence, the swing swaying back and forth softly. The sky was dark, the stars shining brightly up above, and the street was quiet, deserted at that hour of night. Eventually, they got up and headed inside, with Caroline taking their mugs to the kitchen while Tommy checked in on Celia. 

His baby sister was sprawled out in the bed in the guest room, fast asleep. Their mom joked that Celia could sleep through anything and so far, that had proven to be true. So, Tommy tucked the blankets in a bit tighter around the little girl, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and left the room as quietly as he could, shutting the door gently behind him. 

He found Caro at the sink, having just finished rinsing the remains of their hot chocolate out and she turned to him, wiping her hands off on a rag. 

“She okay?” his girlfriend asked. 

And maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, or an attempt to chase away the numbness that had settled into his bones, but he found moving forward and pulling Caroline into a fierce kiss. He swallowed the slight noise of surprise she made, and when she gripped his shirt and pulled him the tiniest bit closer, he followed, letting himself get lost in the sensation. He could still taste the chocolate on her lips, but underneath that was something unique to Caro and the smell of the perfume he’d bought her on her neck was a familiar comfort. 

“Tommy,” she breathed, once he’d pulled away to press a trail of kisses down her neck. “What are you doing?”

He honestly wasn’t sure. They had talked about this before, hell, Caro had even tried to start something herself once or twice. She said she wanted to lose her virginity before she went away to college, that she wanted her first time to be with him, with someone she loved and trusted. And yet, Tommy had always come up with excuses to delay it. Except now, he desperately wanted to chase away the itch under his skin, to warm the cold feeling in his chest.

“I just… I need to feel something,” he murmured, pressing his forehead into the spot between her neck and shoulder. “Please.” 

It wasn’t a demand or a plea. It was a request, one that Caroline could turn down if she didn’t want to. And he knew she would if that was the case. He would never dream of making Caro do anything she didn’t want and he knew his girlfriend, his best friend, down to the marrow of his bones. 

If there was even the smallest part of her that was uncomfortable, she’d say no. So, what harm could come from asking?

A hand ran through his hair, carding through curls, and eventually Caro tilted his head back up so he could meet her eyes. 

“Alright,” she agreed softly. 

He searched her eyes for any hint that she wasn’t being honest with him, but after hesitating a moment too long, Caro just moved forward, pressing her lips against his own. 

They ended up in Caroline’s room, awkward hands fumbling around in the darkness. Honestly, Tommy didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. It was fine, nice even. Caro’s soft touches made him feel safe and loved, just like always. 

But even afterwards, once they had collapsed into bed and Caro was curled up against him, nothing had changed. 

He still felt numb. 

~~~~

As the months went by and winter turned into spring and spring into summer, they found a new routine. Tommy’s mom went back to work, getting a job as a nurse at the local doctor’s office. He picked up more hours at the mechanic’s and, while money was certainly tight, they scrapped by. It was better than the alternative, at least. 

Slowly but surely, the Kinard family developed a new normal. 

By the time fall came around, they still hadn’t heard a single peep from his dad, which was exactly how Tommy wanted it. The bills were getting paid, and they’d even manage to scrounge up enough money for an extra inhaler for Celia and new soccer cleats for Bea. While the extra hours at work were hard, the stress didn’t begin to compare to having his father around. Instead of having to constantly worry about making sure nothing upset his dad, Tommy got to go home to a calm, peaceful house, filled with happiness and laughter for the first time in as long as he could remember. 

And then someone crashed a plane into the side of the World Trade Center and suddenly, Tommy didn’t think the world was ever going to be normal again. 

Chapter Text

2002

The sky was shining a bright blue overhead, matching the blue stoles against their black graduation gowns. Senior year had crept by by someway, somehow, Tommy had finally made it to the end of high school. From his spot at the top of the baseball field’s bleachers, he could just barely hear the crowd still gathered on the football field around the other side of the school building. His classmates had been understandably enthusiastic after the ceremony, and while Tommy was happy to be done with high school, the excitement had quickly become too much. They were all looking forward to the next phase of their life, to making new friends and memories. While they would all be going off to college in the fall, Tommy wouldn’t be joining them. 

He’d be joining the army. 

It’d been a surprisingly easy decision to make, seeing as how he didn’t have any other option. He couldn’t afford to go to college, and even though he’d been offered a few baseball scholarships, it meant his mom would have no one else helping with the bills. While Luca had a job, the money wouldn’t be nearly enough to help and Tommy didn’t want his brother growing up like he did. He wanted Luca to have the chance to be a normal teenager and that couldn’t happen if he was constantly worried about bills and trying to fit more shifts at work into his already busy schedule.

The recruitment officers had practically snatched him up the second he walked into the office. He was young, healthy, and fit, and with the war in Afghanistan, they were desperate for more recruits. 

“Thought I’d find you up here,” a voice interrupted his thoughts, and Tommy looked down to see Caro beginning to climb her way to the top of the bleachers. 

The heels she’d been wearing earlier in the day had disappeared, leaving her barefoot as she stepped from one bleacher to the next. She had a white dress on underneath her graduation gown and the blue stole they’d all been forced to wear was absent. Tommy had a feeling it was probably lying on the football field along with everyone’s graduation caps. 

“So, Mr. Kinard,” she said with a grin as she took a seat next to him. “How exactly does it feel to be a high school graduate?”

It felt like the clock had run out on his childhood. Not that he had ever really had one. But suddenly, the fact that he’d be shipping off for basic training in a few short weeks was staring him straight in the face, completely unavoidable. Even though he’d signed all the papers a while ago, he’d been able to distract himself with school and baseball, along with looking after the girls and shifts at the mechanic’s. It was easy to pretend that life was normal, when he was still in school. And now, it was like he was standing on the edge of an abyss, unsure of what came next, with no one to catch him if he fell. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Ms. Soon-to-be-a-Yale-Student,” he quipped back, laughing when Caroline elbowed him in retribution. 

“I’m serious,” she protested, green eyes twinkling in amusement which vanished upon seeing the serious expression on his face. “You tell your mom yet?”

He nodded, staring out over the field to avoid looking his girlfriend in the eye. 

“Last night.”

He’d avoided telling his mother he was enlisting for as long as he could, but eventually, he had to fess up. Luca had already known - and had attempted to talk him out of it - for several weeks but Tommy had kept putting off telling his mom, something Caro had been less than pleased about. 

“And?” Caro prompted after waiting for him to continue. 

“She cried,” he replied bitterly, remembering the look on his mom’s face the previous night. 

In eighteen years, he’d never once made his mother cry. And yet, barely two seconds after he told her he was enlisting, she’d burst into tears, begging him not to go. 

He’d never felt more like his father’s son. 

“She’ll be okay,” Caro assured him, reaching out and grasping his hand tightly. “She’ll have Luca and the girls, and Drew’s gonna keep an eye on her. And I can visit when I’m home on break.”

While he knew, logically, that he was doing the best thing for his family, that it was his only choice, he still felt like he was abandoning them. 

“When do you leave?” she asked quietly, leaning into his shoulder a little. 

“Two weeks,” he answered, swallowing heavily. 

He had to go through 10 weeks of basic training, followed by advanced individual training. After that, he’d get deployed and sent thousands of miles away from home, straight into the middle of a war-torn desert. 

“So um, I think…” he paused, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say without hurting Caroline. “I think maybe…”

“Maybe it's the end of the road for us?” Caro finished for him. 

Tommy’s head whipped over to look at Caroline, surprise written all over his face. He thought he’d been pretty careful about trying to put space between them, hoping to soften the blow of the breakup. Caro just looked at him, letting out a laugh at his dumb-founded expression. 

“C’mon, Tommy,” she said, bumping into his side playfully. “You’re not that subtle. And no guy wants to be in a long-distance relationship with a girl he doesn’t love.”

Tommy braced himself, waiting for some sort of reaction, but Caro… didn’t even seem upset? He’d seen way too many guys get a slap across the face - not that Caro would ever do that - over a breakup, or at the very least, some tears and screaming. And yet, she was just sitting there, laughing with him. 

“Caro, I… I do love you,” he told her firmly, squeezing her hand. 

Because he did, and it was important she knew that. He loved her more than anyone, outside of his family. She was his best friend, his person. Hell, Caro was probably the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. 

“I know,” Caro assured him. “But you’re not in love with me. And that’s okay. I’ve known that for a pretty long time.”

“I wanted to be,” he replied. 

He had tried over the years, convinced one day he would wake up and just magically be in love with her. But it never happened. Not when they had their first kiss, or their first anniversary. Not when they slept together for the first time. Never. 

He loved Caro, he really, really did. But was she the love of his life?

Not a chance. 

“I think it’s just time for a new chapter, hm? I mean, don’t get me wrong. Tommy the boyfriend was great,” Caro told him before smiling at him, her eyes lighting up. “But Tommy the best friend? He’s even better.”

Tommy laughed, genuinely happy for the first time in a while. He offered his hand out to Caroline, grinning when she took it.

“Best friends it is,” he agreed as they shook on it. 

______________________________________________________________________________

2004

Tommy shifted anxiously as he listened to the phone ring, hoping someone picked up. It wasn’t the usual time he got to call home but he’d just finished breakfast and considering the 12 hour time difference, he had assumed someone would be at home. Just when he was about to give up and hang up the phone, the ringing stopped.

“Hello?” he heard Bea say, her voice sounding somewhat crackly through the phone. 

“Hey, Bea,” he greeted. “It’s me.”

Tommy could hardly believe that his little sister was already 15. He still remembered the day she was born, when their mom let him hold her for the first time, a tiny little baby swaddled in a pink blanket. He’d been home on leave not even two months ago, and yet she already sounded so much older. 

“Maso! Did we know you were calling?” she asked, sounding confused because usually their mother vigilantly kept track of the days and times Tommy was supposed to call. 

He’d just started his second tour, and his mom still hadn’t adjusted to him being gone. Honestly though, Tommy probably worried about her just as much as she worried about him. He sent money home as often as he could, but the idea that she was working herself to the bone without him around to intervene constantly floated through his head. And while Tommy’s father hadn’t made any reappearances, he knew she still worried that the man would suddenly reappear. 

They talked while he was home on leave and when he suggested it, she agreed it was time for a fresh start. So, once Luca graduated in the spring, Theresa and the girls would move down to San Francisco. It was a big change, especially for the girls who had never even left Washington, but he knew it’d be good for them. 

“Nah, I had to shift times with someone,” he explained, pressing the phone closer to his ear to hear better. “How’s everything at home?”

“Good, I guess,” his little sister told him. “Ma likes her new hours at work. Celia’s apparently the hot shit of the sixth grade, so she thinks she’s all that and a bag of chips. Luca’s being stupid about applying to college, but he’s always stupid so–”

“How do you mean?” Tommy asked. 

His brother had mentioned to him once or twice that he was worried about going to college. He thought it would cost too much, and didn’t like the idea of leaving their mom and the girls alone. Tommy, however, had firmly told him he’d be going if Tommy had anything to say about it. 

While the army hadn’t been horrible, it certainly hadn’t been what Tommy had wanted for his life and he’d be damned if their father’s poor choices meant yet another Kinard child was forced into a life they didn’t want. 

“Just talking about how he doesn’t even know why he’s applying, since he isn’t gonna get in or might not go,” Bea explained. “Don’t worry though, Ma and I bullied him into it. Caro helped him with his applications.”

“Oh, yeah?” Tommy said, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. 

While he and Caro were still on good terms, it had been hard to keep in touch what with her busy in school and Tommy halfway around the world. He knew that growing apart was normal, but it still stung a little. 

“Mhm,” Bea confirmed. “Hey, did I tell you I made varsity?”

Bea had been frantically preparing for soccer tryouts the entire time Tommy was home on leave and even roped him into passing the ball back and forth with her a few times. That had quickly ended though, because apparently, Tommy sucked at soccer. 

“That’s great, squirt!”

They talked for a little while longer - mostly about the high school drama Bea was involved in - but they were eventually forced to say goodbye. Tommy promised to call again when he could, and Bea swore she’d bully Luca into writing letters more often. 

As he headed outside, sweat immediately began dripping down the back of his neck from the hot sun beating down overhead. 

“Hey, Kinard!” 

Tommy looked over to see Max Flemming, a medic in his squad, approaching him with another man. 

“Flemming,” Tommy greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Good, good,” Flemming nodded, not really listening. “Anyways, I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is an old buddy of mine, Nate.”

“Tommy Kinard,” Tommy said, reaching forward to shake the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The other man was just a bit taller than Tommy, but he was lean in a way that made him seem even taller. Not skinny - he was definitely muscular - but he just had a slim build. He had dark brown, almost black curly hair, and sharp gray eyes. 

“Nate Campbell,” the man replied, shaking Tommy’s hand. 

His curls fell in his face slightly, leaving Tommy wondering how he’d managed to have it that much longer than regulations. But there was something about the lopsided grin he gave Tommy and the spark in his gray eyes that had him drawn to the man, although he wasn’t quite sure why. 

~~~

He figured out why he was inexplicably drawn to Nate Campbell three weeks later, while on night patrol with the man.  

They’d spent the past few weeks talking and getting to know each other, since Nate had been transferred to Tommy’s platoon, and for the first time in a while, Tommy had found himself… oddly happy? There was something easy about being with the other man, something addictive about his personality. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so excited to be around someone. Honestly, probably never, not even with Caro. 

“So, you got a girl waiting back home for you?” Nate asked as they slowly walked through their patrol route. 

Something about his tone struck Tommy as odd but he shook it off, deciding it was probably just the lateness of the hour. 

“Definitely not,” he replied with a snort, thinking of his one and only failed relationship. “Not really sure that’s for me, you know?”

He didn’t think he was a relationship type of guy. Tommy had always had a hard time making real friendships, his only one truly being with Caro. Opening up to people was just… hard for him. Then there was the trauma of seeing his parents doomed marriage. If that wasn’t enough for him to swear off long-term relationships, he wasn’t sure what was. 

“No?” Nate said, suddenly coming to a stop behind a humvee and looking carefully at him. 

The sun had long since set but the moon was full, allowing Tommy to still be able to easily look in the man’s eyes. Nate was looking at him intensely, gray eyes boring straight into Tommy’s soul. 

No one had ever looked at him like that. 

“I… I don’t think so,” he answered slowly, watching as Nate seemed to consider his response for a moment. 

The other man bite his lip, hesitating for a moment, before mumbling something that sounded remarkably like “fuck it” under his breath. 

Tommy couldn’t say for sure though, considering his brain all but shut down when Nate suddenly moved forward, pinning Tommy to the side of the humvee. Nate’s weight held Tommy against the metal frame and a moment later, his mouth found Tommy’s, the man’s stubble brushing Tommy’s jaw as lips pressed against his own. All the breath flooded out of Tommy as calloused hands brushed against his jaw and neck, feeling like sparks on his skin. And –

Oh.

Oh . 

Well, that would explain why things with Caro never worked out. 

Unconsciously, Tommy deepened the kiss, not even truly realizing what he was doing. All that mattered was keeping the man’s hands on him, continuing the action that sparked a fire inside of him, chasing away the cold that Tommy had never managed to get rid of. 

He would have thought it’d be too much, that the brush of stubble against his face, the tongue searching his mouth, and the hands gripping his hair and hip would be overwhelming. But instead, Tommy felt something other than numbness for the first time in years. 

He felt alive .

A sound in the distance had both of them flinching away from each other, and Nate stood there looking at him for a moment, his pupils blown wide, a fire blazing inside his gray eyes. His curls were slightly messy - although Tommy had absolutely no memory of touching them - but unlike Tommy, who looked and felt like a deer in the headlights, Nate just looked like he’d won the lottery. The desert air suddenly felt cold against his flushed skin and he stood there, unable to move. Tommy was practically trembling, leaning against the humvee for support as he breathed in and out heavily. Thankfully though, no one else appeared. 

Then Nate, the smug bastard that he was, just flashed Tommy his trademark crooked grin and started chuckling.

“Not bad, Kinard,” he said, head tipping back slightly as he laughed.

And Tommy, still half in shock, still half riding the high he’d just been on, couldn’t help but laugh right along with him. 

Because for the first time in his entire life, Tommy could breathe .

Chapter Text

2005

They both knew what would happen if they got caught, but the looming threat of a discharge didn’t scare them enough to stop. Sure, Tommy was slightly terrified at the thought that he could get kicked out of the army, but he needed Nate more. Or rather, he needed the way Nate made him feel. He hadn’t realized how dead he was inside until Nate had kissed him, how cold and numb he felt all the time. Once he realized Nate could fix that, Tommy practically became addicted to the man. 

So, they snuck around in secret, finding secluded spots to spend time together in. It was during those months with Nate that Tommy discovered what it was like to kiss someone with passion, where he learned the wonders of a blowjob, where he found out that sex could actually be enjoyable. 

Both of them knew it wouldn’t last. For one, being in the Army prevented them from having a real relationship, and two, Tommy had zero intentions of ever telling his family the truth. 

He wasn’t sure how his mother would react. Sure, there was a small chance she could be fine with it but he highly suspected that wouldn’t be the case. His mother was a devout Catholic who had been married to a homophobe for almost 20 years, and none of that exactly screamed that she’d be supportive. Even if she was, then that would just be one more thing Tommy added to her plate, one more thing for her to worry about. 

But for as long as they were stuck in the sandbox, they could be together and despite the war going on around them, Tommy finally felt at peace.

 “Are you thinking about reupping?” Nate asked one night after they’d managed to find enough time and a quiet spot to have a quick fuck. Tommy was entirely limp from where he was lying in the other man’s lap, his head pillowed on Nate’s stomach as he ran a hand through his hair. He was exhausted, but in a good way. It was the type of tiredness that made him feel lighter, that helped him forget about the rest of his worries. 

“Probably,” Tommy answered as he toyed with the dog tags hanging around Nate’s chest. “Think I’ll stay in until Celia’s off to school.” 

He could make it five more years. Luca was already at college, having received a full scholarship to Tulane, so he was taken care of. Hopefully, Bea would get a scholarship for soccer, and then only Celia would be left at home. He’d be 26 by then, which seemed like a good time to return to the real world. Young enough that he could still have a whole other career outside of the military. 

“How about you?” he asked Nate, who snorted in response. 

“You know me,” Nate replied, shrugging a shoulder in a way that lightly jostled Tommy’s head. “I’m sticking it out for as long as I can.”

Unlike most people, Nate thrived off of the chaos and adrenaline that came with being a soldier. He took his job seriously, of course, but he wasn’t the guy that could have a desk-job stateside. He lived for action, for the thrill that came after you survived something that should’ve killed you, but didn’t. And unlike Tommy, he was actually there because he subscribed to the whole “protect your nation” belief. 

“I’m sure your ma must love that,” Tommy retorted, knowing exactly how his own mother would react if he told her he was staying in the military for life. 

There’d be screaming, crying, and probably a frying pan thrown at his head for being such an idiot. 

“She’s used to it,” Nate said, laughing a little. “She used to freak out whenever I went climbing. Now she barely worries.” 

Nate had grown up rock-climbing and usually planned some insane climb when he was home on leave, since he was unable to stay at home and relax like a normal person. Their last leave, he had gone out to Yosemite and climbed El Capitan. While Tommy didn’t mind heights - he was a pilot, after all - he didn’t exactly understand the joy Nate got from climbing up a giant rock, but to each his own. 

“Lemme guess, you’re gonna go climb Everest this year,” Tommy joked.

“Figured I’d head up to Alaska, get some skiing in instead,” Nate explained and Tommy just snorted out a laugh of disbelief. 

It was the way the other man said it so casually, as if he was just going on a run around the block instead of on some wild trip to the backcountry of Alaska. 

“You should see it one day, Tommy,” Nate said, his tone softening somewhat. “It’s gorgeous out there. All white snow and blue skies. When you’re up there, way out in the middle of nowhere, it’s like nothing can touch you. Like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.”

“Until a bear eats you,” Tommy retorted, causing Nate to laugh. 

Except it did sound nice, being able to escape from everyone else. Tommy had always liked being alone and keeping himself company. It was easier that way. He had enough problems to worry about on his own, he didn’t need more friends adding to them. Nate made it sound like it was a sense of peace Tommy could never achieve on his own. He’d come close once, when he went flying for an afternoon outside of training, just by himself. It had just been him and the wide, open sky, where nothing could bother him. 

Unfortunately, he hardly ever flew by himself, or in instances where he could let himself drift like that. He always had to be focused, watching out for anything that could pose a threat to the chopper and the soldiers inside. 

“Doesn’t it… I don’t know, bother you?” he asked, twisting around so he could look at Nate. “That you’re always one step away from dying?”

Nate’s gray eyes softened slightly, and for once, he actually seemed to take one of Tommy’s questions seriously. 

“Everyone’s dying, Tommy,” Nate told him. “I mean, I could get hit by a car walking down the street one day. At least if I die climbing or skiing, or more likely, here, it’s on my terms.”

“I’m pretty sure your chances of dying while climbing 1,000 feet up in the air are higher than getting killed crossing the street,” Tommy replied, watching Nate’s eyes twinkle in amusement. 

“Maybe so,” Nate agreed, pressing a quick kiss to Tommy’s forehead. “But life’s what you make it, Kinard. We’re all just specks on a rock. It’s up to you if you want to make your life matter.” 

Tommy had never met someone like Nate Campbell before. He was fire, a burning hot blaze that consumed everything around him and shone brightly in the darkest of nights. Nothing anyone could say or do would ever extinguish it. Tommy, on the other hand, was like a candle with one tiny spark desperately trying to stay alive. A candle whose fire had been snuffed out by his father a long, long time ago. 

“And you skiing off of a cliff makes your life matter?”

“It’s not about skiing or climbing,” Nate argued. “It’s… it’s making the most out of every minute you’re given. It’s about living , not just being alive, you know?”

Tommy nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t, not really. Being able to live every moment as if it was your last just wasn’t realistic, at least not for him. Tommy had always lived for other people. He lived to help his mom, to keep his sisters safe, to make sure his brother wasn’t alone. Tommy’s life wasn’t about himself. It was about the people around him. 

~~~

“Hello?”

Tommy startled slightly at the sound of a man’s voice coming through the line and frowned at the phone. Had he dialed the wrong number? He didn’t understand how he could have, considering he knew the number by heart, but that was the only explanation. 

“Hello?” the voice repeated, sounding confused. 

“Sorry,” Tommy cut in. “I think I have the wrong number.” 

As he went to hang up, the man stopped him. 

“Is this Tommy?” he asked, sounding oddly happy about it. 

Tommy managed to get out a noise that must have seemed like confirmation for the man, as he heard a bit of rustling on the other line before the man called out for his mother. 

“Reese, Tommy’s on the phone!” he said, clearly turned away from the phone but still loud enough for Tommy to hear. 

Tommy couldn’t remember ever hearing someone call his mother Reese. He knew it was used as a nickname for Theresa, but it wasn’t one his mother had ever gone by. Eventually, the phone was passed over and his mother began speaking. 

“Tomaso, you’re calling early!” she noted, sounding surprised. 

“Who was that?” he asked, cutting to the chase. 

Maybe it was just a handyman, he told himself. Or a friend’s husband stopping by the house to help her fix something. Or perhaps the father of one of Bea or Celia’s friends there to pick his daughter up. 

His mom stayed silent for a moment before hesitantly continuing. 

“That was Marc,” she answered carefully, her words coming slower than they usually did. 

“Marc,” he repeated dully. 

Who the fuck was Marc?

“Marc and I have… been spending a lot of time together recently,” she explained.

As much as he wanted to live in a naive state of bliss at that moment, Tommy could read between the lines. His mother had a boyfriend . A man who she had never mentioned before, but was suddenly at their house. For the first time, Tommy wished his mom and the girls hadn’t moved down to San Francisco. She certainly wouldn’t have met Marc in Blaine.

“For how long?” he asked, dreading the answer. 

“About eight months,” his mom replied gently, as if to soften the blow. Eight months. It was nearing the end of January, so his mother had been dating some guy since… May? Tommy had been home at the end of August and his mother hadn’t so much as mentioned him. “The girls really like him. And… and so do I.”

Tommy hadn’t even heard of this man and now his baby sisters had already met him? His mom took his silence for what it was and kept speaking. 

“I know you might be a little concerned but he’s a very good man, Tommy. You’d like him,” she promised. 

And as much as Tommy wanted to tell her off, to remind her that her taste in men was historically horrible, he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt his mother like that, not when she was finally happy. 

“That’s great, Ma,” he said, forcing the words out as he swallowed heavily. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

~~~

He was nearing the end of his second tour of duty when everything, predictably, went to shit. Tommy had naively believed that after all his bad luck, the universe was finally dealing him a good hand.

It wasn’t. 

It happened on one of the rare days Tommy got sent with his squad in a humvee instead of a chopper. While most of his time was usually spent flying, about half of his entire platoon had come down with food poisoning, meaning Tommy was forced to abandon his chopper for the day to help out on the ground. 

“Y’all hear Hanson got a Dear John letter the other day?” Quinn asked them from where he was sitting in the front passenger seat. 

Dawson Quinn was the oldest in their squad at nearly 40, and was about to wrap up his sixth tour. He had a wife and four kids back at home in Texas, and usually acted as the voice of reason compared to the rest of them. 

“Not surprised,” Nate said with a snort of laughter. “The guy’s an asshole.”

“So aren’t you,” Reid retorted. 

Of all his squadmates, Tommy probably knew the least about Reid Miller. It wasn’t that he was quiet - quite the opposite, in fact - but the man just didn’t share much about his personal life. Some of the other guys found it weird, but Tommy understood not wanting to share family drama with everyone around you. 

“At least I wasn’t stupid enough to get a girl and then go halfway around the world to get shot at in a desert,” Nate argued. 

“And remind us please, Campbell, how’s your baby mama doin’?” Quinn asked, voice full of mirth. 

Tommy laughed at that, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from Nate. Luckily, with kevlar vests on, the feeling barely registered. 

It had come to a surprise to Tommy that Nate had a kid. First, he was young, hardly any older than Tommy. Secondly, and maybe the more obvious reason, the guy was about as gay as a maypole. Apparently, back when he was still trying to convince himself he liked women, he’d knocked up his high school sweetheart, resulting in him having a two year old boy waiting back at home for him. 

“Stella and I haven’t been together since before Colt was born,” Nate reminded them. “It’s better that way. No strings attached.”

“Except for the toddler,” Tommy countered, grinning at the glare Nate shot at him that lacked any real heat behind it. 

The humvee jostled slightly, knocking Tommy into Nate a bit. Nate quirked an eyebrow, probably realizing Tommy had leaned into his space a little more than he had to. 

“How bout you, Kinard?” Miller asked. “You got a girl waiting on you back home?”

“Not unless you count my sisters,” Tommy replied. 

“Didn’t know you were from Alabama,” Quinn joked, causing Nate to start laughing. 

His laughter rang loud and clear through the humvee, contagious as always. Even the usually stoic Miller couldn't hold back a smile and Tommy grinned widely, the way he always did with Nate. 

The roaring laughter and Nate’s face, a wide grin spread across it and gray eyes, sparkling with joy, was the last thing Tommy remembered before they hit the land mine. 

~~~

The airport was, per usual, a chaotic mess of people rushing around, all trying to get to their gates or home as quickly as possible. It put Tommy on edge, the anxiety the only feeling he really had left, other than pain. 

He’d woken up in a med tent a week prior to find a doctor standing at the foot of his cot, informing him he was being sent home. They’d been ambushed that afternoon and by the time they all managed to climb their way out of the crumbled humvee, gunfire had already begun. 

Tommy got clipped in the shoulder, forcing him to wear a sling for several weeks. His arm still ached despite the pain meds he’d been given, and the hours sitting on the plane hadn’t done him any good. 

That wasn’t the worst part though. The worst part was that he couldn’t get Nate’s face, streaked with blood and gray eyes so, so empty, out of his head. After he got shot and collapsed onto the hot sand, there wasn’t anything Tommy could do except watch the life drain out of the other man. 

As he got off the escalator, he spotted a streak of red darting through the crowd. Red like the color of the ground after Nate bled out, his blood staining the white sand crimson. 

Tommy barely had time to brace himself before Celia collided with him, arms wrapping around his waist in a vice grip, her face buried into his good shoulder. 

He’d been away from home for just over a year at that point. When he last left home, Celia barely came up to his stomach, but her head was now firmly level with his chest. He clung to her tightly, allowing the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo to chase away the odor of blood that clung to his senses. 

“Missed you, Maso,” his little sister mumbled into his chest, hands grasped into his fatigues. 

He barely kept himself from flinching when a second set of arms wrapped around him, even tighter than Celia’s if that was even possible. Lifting his head, he found his mother standing before him, one hand reaching up to stroke his cheek. 

“Hi, tesoro,” his mom greeted him, her blue eyes watering as she looked at him. “Benvenuto a casa.”

And god, he’d almost forgotten how much he missed her until she was right there, looking at him with the same fond expression as always.

“Hey, Ma,” he sniffled, ducking his head down so she could press a kiss to his brow. 

He had thought being home would have helped the stabbing pain in his chest, would have made it easier to draw in air, would have stopped him from feeling so numb. But it didn’t. He still felt like he was drowning and this time, he didn’t think it was going to be so easy to fix.

Chapter Text

2005

November in San Francisco was full of fog and rain, but Tommy didn’t mind it. As long as he wasn’t in a burning hot desert, he didn’t really care where he was. Luca and Bea were still away at school, unable to leave so close to their fall semester finals. So, only Tommy, Celia, and his mom were at home together. 

And, unfortunately, Marc. 

Marc, who had apparently moved in. 

Logically, he knew it wasn’t completely crazy. They’d been dating for over a year and a half. But still, Tommy didn’t like it. He didn’t like Marc either. 

It didn’t matter that Marc was perfectly pleasant, or that he was an astrophysics professor at Stanford, or that he helped Celia with her homework and made dinner so his mom could come home from work to a nice meal. There was just something about the man. Something wrong . 

But he bit his tongue, because for once, his mom seemed happy. So, Tommy vowed not to mention it. 

For now. 

Tommy had been convinced that once he was home, things would be easier. That moving on wouldn’t be as hard. That the nightmares wouldn’t come as often. That he would stop feeling so damn broken all the time. But things just got worse. 

He hardly slept and would startle awake at night, a scream on the edge of his lips, the feeling of sand on his skin, and Nate’s lifeless eyes seared into his brain. 

He didn’t eat much, what with his stomach twisting at the thought of food. 

Nothing was of interest to him. Not helping his mom cook, or going to Celia’s softball game, or talking on the phone with Luca and Bea. 

The only thing he wanted to do was fly, and he couldn’t even do that anymore. 

After a few weeks, his mom tentatively brought up the subject of him going to speak to someone at the VA, and he shot her down almost immediately. 

One night, after he jolted awake for the third time, the sounds of screaming and gunfire still ringing in his ears, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He managed to stumble out of bed and into the living room, where a few bottles of whiskey and scotch were kept on the top shelf of the china cabinet. Tommy didn’t bother with a glass, opting to instead just pop the cap off and drink straight from the bottle. 

He was on his third sip when the creaking sound of a floorboard echoed through the room, causing him to flinch before whipping around to find Celia standing cautiously in the doorway, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. 

“Tommy?” she murmured, sounding confused before her eyes widened at the sight up the liquor bottle. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved her off as he took another swig. 

If he hadn’t still been thrown off from the nightmare, if he hadn’t been drinking, if he had worried about anyone other than himself for a single second, he would’ve noticed the way his little sister tensed at the mere sight of him drinking. But he didn’t, not until it was too late. 

“I really don’t think you should–” Celia tried again

Tommy slammed the door to the china cabinet shut, whirling around to look at her. 

“Jesus, Cel, would you just shut the fuck up!?” 

He didn’t mean it, not really. Tommy just wanted everything to stop. The screams in his head. The throbbing pain in his chest. The ice cold numbness in his veins. He just wanted it all to stop. 

But then his baby sister, sweet little Celia, who would always be so tiny in Tommy’s eyes, flinched away from him, taking one, then two steps back, and reality came crashing back down on Tommy. 

“Celia, wait,” he tried, but she had already slipped away, dashing back up the stairs. 

And in that moment, Tommy felt scarily similar to his father. 

~~~

It didn’t get better. He didn’t get better. Not as November turned into December. Not when Luca and Bea arrived home for winter break. Not when he finally allowed his mom to drag him to see a therapist at the VA, only to sit in silence for the whole hour before refusing to return. 

His nightmares were still there, lurking when he closed his eyes at night. His shoulder ached persistently, a painful reminder of what had happened. His skin itched for the sky, which remained far out of reach. His longing to drown his sorrows in liquor only increased.

And if his luck wasn’t shit enough, he hadn’t been able to find a job. Not in private security or as a mechanic. Not as a bartender or working at a restaurant. Nothing. Part of it was his lack of experience, at least if all the managers were to be believed. But Tommy knew what the real truth was. They took one look at him and every single one of them saw the exact same thing. A broken, pathetic, sorry excuse of a man. 

Christmas came and went, with Tommy managing to keep his head clear long enough to spend what little money he had on presents. 

Two days before New Years’, Luca stormed into his room and firmly informed him they were going on a trip back home. 

Tommy didn’t have the energy to fight him on it. 

So on New Years’ Eve, Tommy found himself sitting in a bar in Blaine, the town he vowed never to return to. 

Some of Luca’s friends from high school went with them, but luckily, none of them bothered Tommy too much. Eventually, the rest of the group, Luca included, headed across the room to play darts, leaving Tommy alone at the bar nursing his whiskey.

“The rumors are true then,” a familiar voice said and Tommy turned to find perhaps the only person in the entire town he would have actually wanted to see. “Tommy Kinard, back in Blaine.”

“Caro,” he greeted her, lips twitching into a smirk. “You look good.”

She had changed a lot in three years, and yet somehow, still looked the same. Her hair was the same shade of soft blonde, but she’d cut it into a short, sleek shoulder-length bob. The angles of her face were a tad sharper too, although Tommy supposed that was just part of growing up. But her eyes were still just as he remembered them, a rich forest green, tinged with a soft gray-blue on the rims. 

“I am good,” she told him, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she accepted her drink from the bartender. “You’d know that if you answered my letters.”

Tommy winced slightly, giving her a sheepish, apologetic look. While he had promised to stay in touch, he had let Caro down. He hadn’t seen her in three years, not since the day he left Blaine, and he hadn’t spoken or written to her in over two. While he had thought about reaching out, time and time again, to tell her everything that had happened, to confess his secrets, to share with someone his pain, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t tell anyone, and he knew that Caro would see straight through any lie he tried to tell. 

“Been busy,” he explained, shrugging his good shoulder. “You know, things to do, people to see, places to be.”

“Really?” Caro asked with an indignant snort. “Because I’ve heard you’ve been doing none of those things.”

Fucking Luca, the little snitch. He could’ve let Tommy handle his problems on his own, but no, his little brother decided to drag him 900 miles so he could see his ex-girlfriend. 

“It’s not easy being back, you know?” Tommy shot back, downing the rest of his whiskey before signaling the bartender to pour him another. “I can’t just… move on, or whatever.”

He couldn’t mourn what he’d lost when he was still being haunted by what had happened. Maybe it would have been easier, if Tommy had never known what he was missing. What was that bullshit saying? It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? 

Tommy knew from experience that that was the farthest thing from the truth. 

Sure, he had felt numb and alone before, like he was drifting out to sea all by himself, with no one to save him, but that had been better. That was better than the pain eating away deep inside of him, the pain that would only continue to spread until nothing was left. 

Loving Nate had been like surrounding himself with fire. It was warm and bright while it lasted. It sucked all the oxygen from the room and consumed everything around it. But like all fires, it couldn’t last forever, and all that was left in its wake was a pile of ash that would eventually be scattered into the wind, leaving nothing behind. It was a love that was beautiful, a love that shone brightly, but it was a love that hurt, that left burns on Tommy’s skin and charred the edges of his heart. 

That was all Tommy was anymore. The burnt, dull remains of the person he could have been. 

“From what I’ve heard, you aren’t really trying,” Caro countered, giving him a knowing look. 

“Luca doesn’t know shit,” Tommy snapped back at her. 

After all, Luca had hardly been around. He was at school halfway across the country, far away from Tommy’s problems, and sooner rather than later, he’d go back to New Orleans. And Tommy was trying, wasn’t he? It wasn’t his fault no one wanted to hire him, or that his family was constantly nagging him about things he couldn’t fix. He was doing his best. But, just like always, his best wasn’t good enough. 

Most of the time, Tommy could get his family to leave him alone simply by being an ass and snapping at them, but that didn’t work with Caro. She leaned forward, grasping just above his wrist and squeezing lightly. Green eyes peered deeply into his own, leaving Tommy unable to look away. 

“It’s not just Luca that’s worried about you, Tommy. You’re not okay. Luca says you’re not sleeping, you’re scaring the girls, your mom is–” 

“My ma’s fine,” Tommy retorted, chuckling grimly under his breath. “She’s got Marc, doesn’t she?”

Caro’s hand was still on his arm and he looked down at it for the first time, freezing slightly when he noticed the ring on her hand. 

“Who’s the lucky guy?” he asked and Caro shook her head softly. 

“Don’t change the subject,” she told him, but Tommy just continued looking at her until she caved and answered his question. “Zach Thatcher.”

Tommy scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. Zach Thatcher had been in their graduating class and while there was nothing wrong with the guy, he was just… boring. A middle of the road, unexciting guy with approximately zero ambition. A guy who certainly wasn’t compatible with Caro. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Caro asked sharply, green eyes narrowing. 

“Nothing,” Tommy replied bitterly. 

“He’s a nice guy. A great guy,” Caro argued. 

And Tommy wasn’t denying that. Zach Thatcher would make a great husband for someone. Just not Caro. He was the type of guy who was going to stay in Blaine for the rest of his life and never do anything memorable, and his wife would be trapped right with him. Caro had more potential than that. 

“You can do so much better than Zach,” he said firmly. 

“Well, at least Zach isn’t unemployed, bitter and on the road to becoming an alcoholic,” she shot back. 

That was the worst part about fighting with your best friend. They always knew just where to hit to take you out at the knees. Tommy clenched his jaw, but that didn’t stop the words that came next. 

“Yeah, but I’m not the one so desperately afraid of being alone that I cling to any guy that comes my way.” 

Caro flinched back and Tommy was just sober enough to recognize the hurt in her eyes, and to be slightly sickened about the fact that for one moment, it felt good to see that pain. 

“Fuck you, Tommy,” she snapped before shoving her stool back from the bar and storming out the door. 

Tommy chased after her, following her into the street behind the bar. The cold night air nipped at his skin slightly, but the alcohol in his system kept him warm enough. 

“C’mon Caro, I didn’t mean it,” he called, continuing to move until she finally came to a stop and turned around to look at her. 

“Except you did!” she yelled, her voice echoing through the quiet street. “That’s why you dated me, isn’t it!? Poor Caro’s so scared of being lonely that she fell in love with a guy who couldn’t even love her back?”

Tommy jolted back slightly, because it wasn’t like that had been his intention when they first started dating. That was just how the cards had fallen. 

“And yeah, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am settling,” Caro continued, her voice slightly lower. “But I’m not the one taking my problems out on my family. I mean, god, Tommy, I don’t even know who you are anymore! Because let me tell you, the Tommy I know? He would have never acted like this.” 

“Yeah, well, people change,” he told her, fixing his jaw. “I’m not the only one who has.”

Caro looked at him and for a moment, Tommy thought she was going to challenge him. But eventually her tense posture just melted and a soft, sad expression took place. 

“I’ll see you around, Tommy,” she said quietly, before she began walking away. 

Tommy startled slightly, not having expected her to actually just… give up and walk away. Like he wasn’t even worth fighting for anymore. Like he wasn’t her best friend. Like he was… nothing . 

“So that’s just it, huh?” he called angrily after her. “You don’t love me anymore?” 

Because even if they were never in love, they had always loved each other. 

Caro turned around, looking at him like the mere sight of Tommy was breaking her heart. 

“I love you, Tommy. God help me, I do,” Caro told him, voice cracking. “I just don’t like you anymore. 

And then Tommy froze, standing there in the road as snow fell down in large, thick flakes, watching as Caro Sullivan walked out of his life forever. 

Distantly, he could hear cheers echoing through the bar and he turned his head just enough to see the clock on the street light had struck midnight. By the time he looked back, Caro was gone. 

And as 2005 turned into 2006 and he aged from 21 to 22, Tommy realized he didn’t recognize himself anymore either. All he knew was that he was alone.

Just like he always was. 

Just like he always would be. 

2006

He stuck it out in San Francisco until the third week of January. Despite trying his best, things still hadn’t improved at home. Tommy couldn’t find a job, he continued fighting with his mom and disappointing Celia. No matter what he did to try and get better, nothing worked. Then one morning, he woke up and felt such an intense urge to just go . Run .

Tommy knew he wasn’t going to get better in San Francisco. Not when he had his family to fall back on, who would put up with him even when he was being a selfish asshole. He needed a fresh start, surrounded by people who knew nothing about him, who wouldn’t look at him with pity, who wouldn’t try to talk to him about what had happened. 

Reid Miller had given him his phone number on a scrap of paper right before Tommy boarded his flight to San Francisco. The other man had been heading home to Los Angeles, and told Tommy to call him if he ever needed anything. 

Los Angeles seemed as good a place as any to start over. Good weather, the ocean, and a large enough population that Tommy would be but a drop of water in a bucket. The perfect place to hide. 

Once Reid extended the offer for Tommy to stay in his guest room for a few weeks, until he got on his feet, and Tommy purchased his bus ticket, he told his mom he was leaving. 

Which, predictably, didn’t go over well. She yelled, then cried, then yelled again. Saying all sorts of things about how he wasn’t ready and he needed support at home. 

Tommy didn’t really listen to her complaints all that much. 

He had already made up his mind. Besides, it was what was best for everyone. If Tommy left, his mom and Celia could continue being a happy little family with Marc. They couldn’t do that while he was in the way. 

He woke up early the next morning with a plan to get to the bus station early. Tommy limited himself to one duffel, cramming it full with necessities and leaving everything else behind. 

As quietly as he could, he made a quick breakfast in the kitchen, doing his best not to wake anyone. Celia didn’t even know he was going. He was too much of a coward to tell his baby sister he was leaving her, yet again. 

“So you’re really going, huh?” a voice asked quietly, startling him from where he was washing his dishes in the sink. 

Marc appeared next to him, reaching into the cabinet to pull a mug down before pouring the last of the coffee Tommy had made into it. 

The man’s dark brown hair was just beginning to gray a little at the temples, something Tommy hadn’t really noticed before. Like most people, he looked a little older in the morning before the sun was fully up. The early hour meant he hadn’t yet shaved, so he had a bit of stubble growing in. Tommy had never realized quite how tall the man was before. He was used to being the tallest person in the room, having grown the summer after high school to stand firmly at 6’2, but Marc easily had two inches on him. 

Tommy’s father had been tall and it was something that Tommy had always noticed about the man. Growing up, he’d felt like his father was constantly towering over him, like Tommy was some tiny thing he could crush. 

With Marc though, Tommy had hardly noticed. Although perhaps that was due to the man’s more lean build. Not to say the man was slim by any means, he had broad shoulders and an impressive amount of muscle for a college professor, but Tommy’s father had been built like a tank, a build Tommy had inherited. 

“I can’t stay,” Tommy told him. “I know Mom doesn’t understand but…”

“I get it, kiddo,” Marc replied. “You do what you gotta do.”

Tommy furrowed his brow, wanting to protest the use of the word kiddo but oddly enough, finding himself unable to. 

“I should get going,” he said eventually, reaching for his bag on the floor. 

“Before you do,” Marc interrupted, causing Tommy to pause as the man reached into his pocket before pulling out a thick envelope and handing it to Tommy. “I want you to have this.”

Tommy cautiously took the envelope, looking inside to find a thick wad of cash. He looked back up at the man in surprise and quickly tried to come up with something to say. 

“I-I can’t take this,” he argued but Marc simply shook his head and refused to accept it when Tommy tried to hand it back. 

“You can and you will,” Marc told him firmly. “And you’ll call me if you need more.”

Suddenly, it occurred to Tommy that in all his thoughts of moving to LA, he’d never once worried about the fact that he would be leaving Celia and his mom alone with Marc. 

“Look after them for me?” Tommy asked, nodding down the hall to where his mom and little sister were asleep. 

“Sure thing, kid,” Marc promised, cracking a grin. 

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. 

~~~

As if he hadn’t been helpful enough, Reid made a few calls to some old buddies of his and had secured Tommy a job at a bar, O’Grady’s, owned by one of his friends. It was a badge and ladder bar and the tips Tommy made were generous enough that he was able to move into a shitty one bedroom apartment a few weeks after he arrived in LA. 

He picked up a few shifts at a mechanic’s shop during the day as well, since it wasn’t like he had much else to occupy his time with. Having a routine turned out to be good for him though. It got him out of his apartment and helped him sleep a little easier too. Tommy even joined a Muay Thai gym, since he’d always wanted to learn some sort of martial art. He’d learned some hand to hand combat skills in the Army, and it had been a good way to get his energy out. 

He called home once a week and talked to whoever picked up the phone. Usually Celia, occasionally his mother, and on rare occasions, Marc. The chats were typically brief, considering Tommy never had much to say, but Celia would chatter away when she picked up and do enough talking for the both of them. Every once and a while, he would call Luca at Tulane or Bea at Northwestern, but he got the sense Luca was still pissed at him for being such an ass and then running away to LA. 

Still, he couldn’t deny that it felt like something was missing. He knew part of it was the lack of friends, but that had pretty much always been the case in his life. There was something more though. Like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t shake. 

Towards the end of March, he was working a shift at the bar when a group of firefighters came in. Not unusual, considering it was a badge and ladder bar, and Tommy recognized them from having been in before. 

“Can I get a Blue Moon?” one of the oldest firefighters in the group asked as he took a seat at the bar while the rest of them wandered over to the pool tables. 

“Sure thing,” Tommy replied, grabbing a bottle and popping the cap before placing it in front of the man. 

Tommy went back to the prep work he’d been doing before the group had come in, cutting and squeezing up limes to use the juice for cocktails.

“Navy?” the man questioned with a tilt of his head as he looked at Tommy. 

Tommy stiffened slightly before glancing up from the cutting board to look at the firefighter, surprised to find his face devoid of judgment or the intense curiosity most people had when they asked about his time in the service. He had found that people were either too interested and wanted to ask about all the gory details – Tommy would never understand why people found it appropriate to ask a random stranger if they’d killed someone before - or they looked at him like he had joyfully gone on a killing spree for fun. 

“Army,” he answered after a moment before looking back down to chop another lime wedge. 

“I did ten years in the Navy,” the man informed him, not in a bragging way, but rather just stating the fact for what it was. “When’d you get out?”

“Right after Thanksgiving,” Tommy said, finding it a little easier to converse with the man now. 

The firefighter hummed in understanding before sticking out his hand. 

“Carson O’Rielly.”

“Tommy Kinard,” Tommy introduced himself, reaching forward to shake the man’s hand. 

Tommy didn’t usually make a habit of conversing with customers - even though he was well aware that as a bartender, he was supposed to be chatty - but he found he didn’t mind talking with Carson. The older man told him a few stories about some of the wilder 9-1-1 calls he’d been on over the years and it was nice to listen to him while Tommy finished up some work around the bar. 

“You have any plans yet?” Carson asked eventually as Tommy wiped some glasses down. “Unless you’re planning on being a bartender forever?”

“Not really,” Tommy replied with a shrug, setting a clean glass down before moving on to the next. “I’m kind of just… going with the flow, I guess.”

It should be noted that Tommy hated going with the flow, but it wasn’t like he really had any other options. Getting a job was hard enough to the point where he couldn’t be picky about what he did and the choices for his future were limited. He couldn’t go back to school, even with the GI Bill paying for most of it. School would mean less time for work, which meant less money to pay the bills with. Besides, Tommy didn’t think he could have gone back anyways. Sitting in a classroom surrounded by other college students his age, whose only worries were studying for finals and which frat parties they should go to, would just feel wrong. 

He had considered looking into becoming a police officer, but the thought of holding a gun again was almost nauseating. Which was unfortunate, considering his resume really only appealed to jobs in which he’d need to be armed, such as private security work. 

“Ever consider applying to the fire academy?” Carson asked and Tommy looked at the man, tilting his head slightly. 

No, no he hadn’t, but the thought of it didn’t seem so bad. Unlike being in the Army or the police force, firefighting didn’t involve having to hurt people in order to save others. Firefighters didn’t have to use weapons or violence. Their only worry was saving the people in front of them. And truthfully, the idea of returning to a dangerous job was fairly appealing. He hadn’t realized how much he’d grown accustomed to the adrenaline rush of the Army until it was gone. Now, he felt like everything was too slow, too peaceful, and it made him itch to move, to do something other than just pour drinks at a bar. 

For the first time, Tommy thought he understood what Nate had tried to explain to him all those months ago. 

Life’s what you make of it , Nate’s voice echoed through his head. It’s about living, not just being alive. 

Tommy wasn’t sure he had ever really lived, but maybe it was time to start. 

“You know,” Tommy answered, handing Carson another beer. “I think I just might.”

Chapter Text

2006

The academy was tough, but Tommy had been through far worse. He managed to apply just in time to join the April group of trainees, so with any luck, he’d be finished by mid-August. On his days off, Tommy picked up shifts at the bar, having quit his job at the mechanic’s to make time for training. Every once in a while, Carson - Captain O’Rielly was what Tommy should probably start calling the man - came in and would ask Tommy how things were going. 

Luca flew home to San Francisco over his spring break and spared a few days to come down to LA and visit Tommy. 

“Are you trying to give Ma more gray hairs?” his brother asked him when they grabbed lunch together one afternoon, looking at Tommy in an exasperated manner from where he sat across from him. “First the Army and now this?” 

Tommy bristled at the implication that he was stressing his mom out just for the fun of it and fixed Luca with one of his best glares. 

“Not all of us can just run off to Tulane, you know,” Tommy reminded him. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure when things between him and Luca had changed so much. They used to be close, partners in crime that would drive their mom crazy when they were younger. Back then, Luca had looked at Tommy like he was the coolest guy in the world. 

Now, his little brother looked at him with judgment in his eyes, as if Tommy had done this all by choice. 

They didn’t talk anymore, not the way they used to. Somewhere along the line, they had both become different people but Tommy could still see his little brother in the man sitting across from him. 

The way Luca looked at him, however, told Tommy that Luca didn’t see his big brother inside him anymore. 

Luca let out a long breath before continuing carefully. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he explained, stressing his voice somewhat. “I just… Mom’s finally happy. I don’t want anything to get in the way of that.” 

Tommy knew Luca wasn’t trying to hit him where it hurt, but his words stung nevertheless. As if Tommy could - or would even try - to make his mother anything but happy. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Tommy replied flatly. “It won’t.”

The words Tommy didn’t say lingered between them. 

I won’t. 

~~~

Tommy learned a lot of things during his probational year as a firefighter. He learned how to talk to victims, how to run the firehose, to always work in pairs. And he learned that he absolutely, unequivocally, hated Captain Vincent Gerrard’s guts. 

It wasn’t the way the captain treated Tommy. Sure, the man was hard on him, but all captains were hard on their probationary firefighters. No, it was the other comments the man made. The ones about diversity hires, or women, or Tommy’s least favorite, the ones about those queers as the captain so kindly put it. 

The worst part was, most of the other firefighters seemed to agree with the man. Or at least, they pretended too, which Tommy really couldn’t blame them for considering he usually just nodded along with whatever the man said. 

Captain Gerrard liked Tommy for the most part. He gave him tips on how to do things better, and on rarer occasions, gave him a bit of praise after a call went well. 

Tommy had a feeling Captain Gerrard wouldn’t like him as much if he found out Tommy spent his nights taking dick. 

He wasn’t dating anyone - because yeah, that was never happening - but every once and a while, he would have the occasional hook-up. It wasn’t often, only when he really got desperate, but for a little while, it would make him feel better. For a little while, it gave him something else to think about other than work. 

It wasn’t until he’d been at the 118 for three months that there was a call that made him regret joining the academy. 

Dispatch had received a call from a family’s concerned neighbor about a potential domestic disturbance and when an officer arrived on the scene to do a welfare check, the father had responded by setting fire to the house. It was a fairly small blaze that had all but been put out by an officer using a fire extinguisher by the time they arrived. 

“Kinard, go help Cobb on this one,” Gerrard ordered as he went over to talk with a few of the police officers. 

Tommy looked at Eli and the paramedic simply shrugged at him before waving him along. They followed a police officer inside the living room, which was mostly unscathed from the fire, to where a woman was lying unconscious on the floor, blood dripping from a wound on her head. The scene made him swallow heavily, thinking about how many times his own mother could have ended up in the same situation. 

“Grab some gauze,” Eli told him as he dropped his kit on the floor, pulling out a pen light to check the woman’s pupils. 

Tommy mostly hung back, handing the man the equipment he needed and watching Eli work. Soon, the woman’s eyelids began fluttering and eventually flicked open, revealing deep brown eyes filled with fear. She immediately tried to sit up, but Eli gently held her down.

“Take it easy, ma’am,” Eli instructed her softly. “You took a pretty bad hit to the head.”

“Emmy,” the woman said, voice filled with panic. “Where’s Emmy?” 

“Who’s Emmy?” Eli asked, still trying to get the woman to settle down. 

“My daughter,” the woman replied, almost hyperventilating at that point. 

Eli shot him a look and Tommy got the silent message, moving to put down the other bag of equipment he’d carried inside before making his way through the rest of the house. 

“Just relax, ma’am,” Eli told the mother. “Tommy’s going to go check on her for you.”

Tommy stopped in the first bedroom he came across, which judging by the pink walls and toys scattered around, must have belonged to Emmy. He checked everywhere he could think of, including under the bed and in the closet, but when he came up with nothing, continued heading down the hall. 

He entered the main bedroom and upon rounding around the other side of the bed, froze dead in his tracks. 

There was a little girl lying on the ground, probably around eight or nine years old. She was unnaturally still and covered in blood, staining the white carpet beneath her. Her hair was a bright fiery red and as Tommy stepped closer, shaking hands pressing to her tiny neck to feel for a pulse, he caught sight of lifeless green eyes. 

Red hair and green eyes, just like Celia. 

He stumbled back from the girl, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the rug. Tommy wasn’t sure how long he stood there, heaving as he tried to keep the flashes of Celia’s face replacing Emmy’s out of his mind, but eventually a hand clamped down on his shoulder. 

“C’mon kid,” Deluca said, speaking far more gently than Tommy had ever heard him before leading him out of the house. 

~~~

Their shift went overtime, so by the time Tommy was leaving the station to head home, it was past midnight. He barely made it to his car before rummaging through his duffle in search of his phone, not even bothering to start his truck. His hands shook as they dialed the familiar number, and he watched the rain fall against his windshield as the phone rang. 

“Hello?” a sleepy voice came through the phone. 

“Ma,” Tommy greeted, practically choking on the single syllable. “Can you put Celia on the phone?”

“Tommy?” his mom asked in confusion, which was fair considering the lateness of the hour. “Celia… Celia’s asleep. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Ma,” he replied, desperation slipping into his voice. “I just need to talk to Celia.”

Tommy had never felt such an intense need to speak to his little sister before, to hear her voice and know that she was okay, that she was safe, that everything was fine. Because it was Tommy’s job to protect her and he’d left her alone and what if–

“Tommy, it’s the middle of the night,” his mother said, as if he was somehow unaware of that fact. “Are you… are you in some sort of trouble or something?”

God, his mom had been talking to Luca too much. She made it seem like he was about to ask his baby sister - who couldn’t even drive - to bail him out of jail or something. 

“Ma, just put her on the fucking phone,” Tommy snapped, instantly regretting his words when all he heard in response was silence. 

The line went completely quiet and for a moment, Tommy was convinced that was finally it. That his mother was fed up with him and had hung up the phone completely. Eventually though, there was a shuffling sound on the other end of the line, and another voice spoke. 

“Tommy?” Marc asked, concern evident in his voice. “What’s going on? You’ve got your mom pretty worried here, kid. Talk to me.”

“Just… please put Celia on the phone. Please ,” Tommy pleaded, praying the man would listen. 

Marc went quiet for a moment but soon the sound of footsteps followed, along with a slight noise of protest that Tommy was pretty sure came from his mother. There was the sound of a door opening and then closing, but eventually, the phone was handed over. 

“Maso?” Celia murmured, still sounding half-asleep. “What is it?”

Tommy breathed a sigh of relief, collapsing back against his seat and closing his eyes for a moment, allowing his sister’s voice to fill his ears. She was okay. Celia was fine. Logically, Tommy had known that, but the panic running through his veins had refused to be ignored until he had proof sitting in front of him. Celia repeated her question a few seconds later, making Tommy realize he had been silent for far too long. 

“Nothing, Cel,” he assured her, swallowing heavily and blinking back the tears that had formed in his eyes. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

He can practically hear Celia’s frown through the phone and smiled a little at the memory of Celia’s trademark pout. 

“You’re sure nothing’s wrong?” she asked hesitantly, and Tommy hated that he was the result of the fear in her voice. 

“I’m sure, bug,” he replied, forcing his voice to steady a bit in the hopes it’d reassure his sister. “Could you just… just talk for a bit, kiddo?”

Luckily, talking was what Celia did best, and once she was awake a little more, she chattered away. Tommy didn’t really pay much attention to what she was saying, more focused on her voice than the words themselves. After he heard one too many yawns come through the other end of the phone, he begrudgingly forced his little sister to go back to bed. 

“Hey, Celia?” he interrupted, just before she was about to hang up. “You know how much I love you, right?”

There was nothing in the whole world Tommy loved more than his little sister. The only person who came close was Bea. But Bea and Tommy were closer in age, their relationship was different. With Bea, Tommy had a best friend, a confidant. Celia was different. When it came to Celia, Tommy had one job. To look out for her, to protect her. Nothing came before Celia. Absolutely nothing. 

“Of course I do, Maso,” Celia replied softly. 

Of course, as if there could never be any other possible answer. 

And for once, Tommy found himself thinking that maybe he hadn’t fucked up his life as much as he thought he had.

2008

The restaurant was on the fancier side, certainly not a place Tommy would have chosen if it were up to him. But the view of the water was nice and according to Marc, the meal would be more than worth it. 

He followed the hostess to their table, smiling when he caught sight of a familiar head of brown curly hair. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Bea remarked with a smile as she stood up and yanked Tommy into a tight hug. 

For someone so much smaller than him, his little sister had a remarkable ability to crush his ribs and squeeze every last bit of air out of his lungs. 

“You haven’t seen your big brother in almost a year and that’s what you have to say to me?” Tommy retorted, feigning a hurt look. 

Bea had stayed out in Chicago the previous summer for an internship and Tommy had been forced to work on Thanksgiving and Christmas, which meant he hadn’t been able to see Bea since Easter. 

“Eight months,” Bea corrected as she finally released her death grip and sat back down. 

Tommy took the seat across from her, leaving the seat at the head of the table between the two of them for Marc. Their mom’s boyfriend was in town for some sort of conference and had asked Tommy if he would want to have dinner one night. Since Bea was already flying home for spring break, she had decided to fly into LA instead to spend a few days there before going back to San Francisco with Marc. 

“How was the flight?” he asked Bea, taking a moment to look his sister over. 

She was almost finished with her sophomore year at Northwestern and, as far as Tommy could tell, had been loving every minute of it. Bea had made a good group of friends, was on the dean’s list every semester, and was still playing on the soccer team. Tommy had never seen her happier and seeing his siblings so content always made him a little more at peace with his own decisions. 

“We didn’t crash so I can’t complain,” she answered with a laugh. “Marc texted that he’s running late.”

“And Luca’s decided not to gift us with his presence?” Tommy noted sarcastically, grinning a little when Bea rolled her eyes. 

“Too busy studying for the LSAT to leave school, apparently,” his sister explained. 

Suddenly, a hand landed on Tommy’s shoulder and he jolted slightly, turning around to find Marc standing over him. 

“Hey guys,” he greeted, draping his coat over the back of his chair before taking a seat. “Sorry I got held up. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”

“Tommy hasn’t been waiting long at all,” Bea replied, throwing him under the bus. “Since he seemed to think meet at six o’clock actually meant meet at quarter past.”

“There was traffic!” Tommy argued as Marc snorted a laugh next to him, shaking his head at their antics. 

Their waitress came over to take their orders and once they’d gotten the obligatory small talk out of the way, Bea turned to Marc. 

“So, what’s the occasion?” she questioned, narrowing her eyes at the man slightly. 

“I can’t just take you kids out to dinner every once in a while?” Marc asked, clearly enjoying riling Bea up a little. 

Tommy wasn’t stupid, he knew something was up when Marc had suggested Bea and Luca join them for dinner as well. After all, you didn’t ask someone to fly close to 2,000 miles just to catch up. 

“C’mon, just tell us,” Bea complained.

Marc took a breath in, hesitating for a moment as he glanced at Tommy then back to Bea. 

“I wanted to see how you both would feel about me… asking your mother to marry me,” he announced carefully. 

There was a moment of silence, followed by a squeal from Bea as she practically threw herself at Marc. 

“Finally!” she exclaimed. “It’s about time. Do you need help picking out a ring? I mean, of course you do, because men, duh, but–”

Bea’s chatter faded away as Tommy’s mind began racing. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been aware that his mom and Marc were in a serious relationship. After all, they lived together and had recently started looking for a new house. Marc had lived in an apartment before moving in with Theresa and Celia, but his mom and Marc had decided they wanted more space and to move out of the city a little to be closer to Stanford. But Tommy had just…

He had never considered that his mother would ever get remarried. 

Growing up, his mom’s marriage had been the worst part about her life. Tommy’s father had been an abusive asshole of a husband, and it had never occurred to Tommy that his mom might want to have a do-over. 

And then there was the fact that Tommy was strongly opposed to the idea of having a stepfather. Or any sort of father in general, really. With the exception of Celia, he and his siblings were all adults. They didn’t need a father, not anymore. Things would just be better if they were on their own. 

-mmy, Tommy?”

Tommy started a little, realizing Marc and Bea had been trying to get his attention for quite some time. Marc looked at him nervously, as if he could tell Tommy’s exact train of thought. 

“What do you think, Maso?” Bea asked, carefully keeping her tone light. 

Bea was staring straight at him with a pleading look in her eyes and he knew he only had one choice. 

So, forcing a smile on his face, he turned back to Marc.

“So, when are you popping the question?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded cheerier to Marc and Bea than it did to his own ears.

Chapter Text

2008

As Tommy finished his second year of being a firefighter, the 118 received a new probie. He doesn’t pay much attention to the man, despite Howard Han’s best efforts to make friends with the crew. Tommy didn’t have anything against the man - unlike Gerrard who, on top of being sexist and homophobic, was apparently racist as well – he just wasn’t interested in making friends. In their line of business, people constantly got hurt, or worse. Tommy had already lost too many people in his life already. 

Even as he was approaching his third anniversary of being discharged, Tommy still felt like he was stuck. While moving to LA and joining the academy had helped him get some sort of life back, he felt like he had plateaued since then. As if he had improved as much as he could and there was nothing he could do to fix the rest of him. 

He still frequently woke up from nightmares in the middle of the night. Usually, he managed to keep quiet enough so that he didn’t wake up anyone else in the bunk room, or if he was at home, his neighbors. They still rattled him though, leaving his heart pounding in his chest after he woke up with images of lifeless eyes and bloody sand flashing through his mind. 

Tommy was trapped in a cycle of eating, sleeping, working, and going to the gym. Beyond that, he didn’t do much. His mom and Marc had finally tied the knot that June and he had managed to force a smile onto his face for the whole day. He had repeated the same act of smiling and cheering at Luca’s graduation from Tulane and had bit his lip to keep from saying anything the first time he heard Celia refer to Marc as Dad. 

His family was moving on with their lives and he was happy for them, he really was. Tommy just wished he could move on too. 

But how could he? Making friends in a new city was hard. Dating wasn’t an option either. Even if he could manage to keep a relationship a secret from everyone, he still woke up with Nate’s face seared into his mind every other night. There was also the simple fact that no one was interested in dating a guy as fucked up as Tommy. He was hook-up material, sure, but dating? Not a change. 

He headed into work one morning, having barely slept the night before due to nightmares, and bit back a sigh when he entered the locker room to find Han there. All Tommy wanted at that moment was silence but Han was, unfortunately, the type of guy who never shut up. 

“Hey, man, let's build a bridge here, huh?” the probie suggested, prompting Tommy to simply shake his head at him before searching through his locker. “Come on. What about movies? I've seen them all. Sports? I can tell the difference between a home run and a touchdown. Kind of.”

Tommy sighed as he dug through his locker, knowing the man wasn’t going to give up any time soon. But quite frankly, the last thing Tommy needed was another person to get attached to. He didn’t need to be friends with his co-workers. Things were perfectly fine the way they were.

 “TV, Broadway, classic literature, tell me what your thing is, and I'll make it mine,” Han continued. “Let's just be cool here, man.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy noticed Eli had entered the locker room and was silently watching their interaction. At Tommy’s lack of response, Han let out a sigh. 

“You know, I'm told I have formidable people skills, but you just really don't like me much, do you?” he asked. 

Fed up with pretending to play nice and exhausted from the day that had barely begun, Tommy finally turned around. If there was one thing Tommy was good at, it was knowing where to hit for it to hurt. 

“If I thought about you at all, honestly, I probably wouldn't,” he said as he left the locker room, feeling a tinge of guilt at the look of hurt on the man’s face. 

He caught Eli’s disapproving glare on his way out but shrugged it off. It was better for everyone if things just stayed the way they were. 

2009

Tommy woke up to bright lights shining overhead that burned straight into his eyes, an annoyingly loud beeping noise, and a raging headache. Groaning, he turned his head to hide from the light a little, blinking in surprise at the sight of his mom sitting next to him. 

“How are you feeling, bambino?” she asked, voice dripping in concern as she moved closer and gently brushed some hair off of his forehead. 

He couldn’t remember the last time his mom had called him that, or really any one of her usual Italian pet names. 

“Like someone smashed by head in with a bat,” he replied, coughing slightly as the act of speaking made the pain in his throat spark to life. 

His mom held out a cup of water and Tommy took it with shaking hands, greedily gulping it down and allowing the cool liquid to soothe his throat. 

“What happened?” he asked eventually, handing his mother the cup as he collapsed back onto the hospital bed. 

“A gas leak,” Theresa explained. “Methane is what Eli said. You passed out. Someone on your crew managed to get you out in time.”

“Who?”

Tommy prayed to whatever god existed that it hadn’t been Deluca, because he’d never hear the end of it from the man if it had been. 

“Eli said it was… Howie, I think?” his mom replied. 

Huh. Wouldn’t have been his first guess. Or his second. Or third, really. The main reason being that Gerrard hardly ever let the probie do anything, but there was also the fact that Tommy had been a complete ass to the man. 

“Tommy, I… I’m worried about you,” Theresa confessed, her words quiet as a prayer. 

Tommy looked at his mom in confusion, tilting his head a little in a way that he immediately regretted when it sent a sharp pain shooting through his skull. Sure, Tommy was a little banged up, but he’d be fine with a bit of rest. He’d certainly been hurt worse before. 

“I know getting the call about this must have been scary but–”

“It’s not that,” his mom interrupted. “I’m worried about you .”

Tommy swallowed past the lump in his throat that had suddenly appeared at the deep look of concern in his mom’s eyes. 

“I’m fine, Ma,” he told her, his assurance sounding weak even to his own ears. 

Really, he was. 

He was always fine. 

“Your sisters are worried too, Bea especially,” she continued. “I can tell you’re not happy, Tomaso.”

He didn’t have the heart to tell his mom he’d never been happy. Not really. Or at least, not for a very long time. 

But what had made his mother finally realize how fucked up he was? Was it because she had found herself a normal life, complete with the loving husband and the white picket fence, that her son suddenly seemed so broken?

“I’m okay,” he lied, the words coming as easy as breathing. It was, after all, what he’d been saying for his whole life. “Really.”

His mother reached forward suddenly, gripping his hand and looking at him with a desperation he hadn’t seen in years, not since the day he came home to find his father minutes away from killing her. 

“If you don’t want to tell me the truth, that’s okay. But please, Tommy,” she pleaded, her words making Tommy’s eyes sting just a bit. “Tell someone.”

Tommy bit his lip but eventually, nodded, relieved when his mom then moved on to another subject. 

He wanted to pretend she was wrong, to lie to himself and believe he was fine. But there was a part of him, however small, that wished that Howie hadn’t pulled him out of the building, and that terrified him. 

~~~

During his mandatory medical leave, Tommy found a therapist. He had hated the one he’d seen in San Francisco when he first got home, but then again, he hadn’t really tried. He just couldn’t put the effort in, not for himself.

But maybe, just maybe, he could do it for his family. For his mom, and the girls, and Luca. They deserved to have a son and a brother who wasn’t so messed up. Who could actually smile and laugh and be happy for them. Who they didn’t have to worry about all the time. 

He found a private therapist, having not wanted to go to one through the fire department or the VA. Not that the VA was much help to begin with. 

Natalie Monroe was 29 years old, the daughter of a Navy veteran, had a PhD in psychology from UC Berkeley, saw straight through any shit Tommy tried to get by her, and didn’t pull her punches. 

She was exactly nothing like the annoyingly clinical therapist he had seen in San Francisco who hadn’t had the slightest bit of humor and looked at Tommy with expressions of either judgment, pity, or both. 

In other words, she was perfect. 

They started off with two sessions a week and soon enough, Tommy got diagnosed with both depression and PTSD. The two words rubbed against him the wrong way, but Natalie shot down any arguments he had with a singular pointed look. 

“What do you want out of this?” she asked him during their first session, clarifying when he gave her a confused look. “Therapy. What are your goals?”

Tommy considered the question for a moment, cracking his knuckles one by one to keep his hands occupied. 

He thought back to the night he and Caro had sat on her front porch and the confession he’d made. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been okay.

“I want to be okay,” he said eventually, looking back up at Natalie. 

“Just okay?” Natalie repeated, sounding slightly surprised. 

Tommy figured most people probably aimed higher when it came to therapy. 

“For now,” he decided after a moment, before quirking a smile at Natalie. “Baby steps, right?”

Natalie let out a small huff of laughter, shaking her head at him as she closed her notebook. 

“Baby steps,” the doctor agreed. 

~~~

Eventually, Tommy headed back to work and - with the encouragement of Natalie - formed a budding friendship with Howie. 

He got put on a light dose of medication which, after a rough first few weeks, actually started to help. And once his original discomfort vanished, he had to admit that therapy… it wasn’t so bad. 

Natalie and him spend a lot of time talking about his childhood. Like, a lot . Shocker of the year, Tommy apparently had daddy issues. 

He hadn’t really needed someone with a PhD to tell him that. 

They talked about the army too, of course, and even about Nate. But as far as Natalie knew, Nate was just his best friend and nothing more. Whenever she asked him about dating or if he wanted a relationship, Tommy would just pretend he wasn’t interested in seeing anyone rather than admit the truth. 

But even despite him not being fully honest, it still helped. After a while, his nightmares lessened. It became easier to get up in the morning. He didn’t have to put as much effort into pretending to be happy around his family, because he actually was, at least a little. 

2011

Henrietta Wilson arrived at the 118 and simultaneously both inspired Tommy and scared the absolute shit out of him. 

She took no shit from Gerrard, was unabashedly herself, and brave in a way Tommy could never even hope to be. 

So naturally, Tommy stayed as far away from her as possible. She was both intelligent and observant, and the last thing he needed was her figuring him out. Plus, hearing stories about the woman’s girlfriend would only make him long for what he didn’t have. 

The guilt of seeing the way Gerrard treated her just about swallowed him whole, but he kept quiet, never saying a single word about the captain’s behavior. 

It wasn’t until Hen climbed on top of a firetruck to give every single man in the station a lecture that he realized how much he had fucked up. 

“I don't expect you to love me!” Hen exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice. “I don't even ask you to like me. All I ask is that when you look at me, see me. See me the way I see you.”

But that was just it. 

Tommy didn’t want to be seen. 

Still, after the woman’s speech and her impressive save later that night, Tommy couldn’t just do nothing. 

So he filed a rather… vulgar complaint against Captain Gerrard, detailing every single thing the man had done wrong over the years. 

And comparing him to hemorrhoids. 

They’re forced to work New Years’ Eve that year, but luckily, they manage to get off shift by 11 o’clock. Howie dragged them all out for drinks, so Tommy insisted they go to his old stomping grounds of O’Grady’s. 

The bar was just as he remembered and surprisingly not as busy as he thought it would have been for the holiday. 

The four of them - Hen, Howie, Tommy, and Sal - grab a booth near the back and were several rounds in by the time the clock hit midnight. 

Tommy’s phone buzzed several times not long after, no doubt texts from his siblings. 

“Got a girl looking for you?” Deluca asked with a smirk as he took a sip of his beer. 

“My sisters,” Tommy corrected, shooting the man a glare. 

“Wishing you a happy new year?” Hen questioned, sounding skeptical. 

Even though they occasionally got drinks after work, the team wasn’t that close. None of them knew his birthday, and he didn’t know any of theirs. Tommy knew the basic information about his co-workers, where they grew up, whether or not they were dating, that sort of thing, but nothing more. Still, he had promised himself – and Natalie – that he was going to try and make more of an effort with people. 

“A happy birthday actually,” Tommy informed them.

Howie clapped him on the back, grabbing his wallet off the table. 

“In that case, we’re gonna need some more drinks!” he said cheerfully before walking off towards the bar. 

Hen and Deluca both wished him a happy birthday, although Hen’s words sounded far more genuine, like she actually meant it. 

They drank to the New Year - and as Howie put it, the New Year of Tommy - and eventually, one by one, everyone left to go home until it was just Tommy at the bar. He figured he’d get one more drink to have a little celebration all on his own before he caught a cab home. 

He headed up to the bar, ordering himself a whiskey, before grabbing a seat at one of the bar stools. Suddenly, there was the loud clunk of a glass being set down next to him and a man appeared in his vision.

“So, I heard you’re the birthday boy,” the man stated, an easy grin on his face. 

Tommy subtly looked the man over, liking what he saw. He was about Tommy’s height, with deep red curly hair and a set of twinkling gray-blue eyes. There was a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, along with a pair of charming dimples. 

“Guess so,” Tommy replied, turning slightly to face the man. 

He still had the occasional hook-up every once in a while, but it had been a minute since he’d been with anyone and he couldn’t deny that the man in front of him was… appealing, to say the least. 

“You get any gifts yet?” he asked, moving just a bit closer to Tommy and lowering his voice ever so slightly. 

“Not yet,” Tommy answered, tilting his head a little to let the man speak into his ear.  

“How about we get out of here and fix that?” he suggested, raising his eyebrow a little bit in a way that was far hotter than it should have been, nodding toward the back door of the bar. 

Tommy didn’t need much convincing to say yes, but he liked to tease his guys a little. So, just to have a little bit of fun, he strung the other man along. 

“Your name would be a good present to start with,” Tommy told the man, who flushed every so slightly, as if just having realized he’d skipped over the introductions. “I’m Tommy.”

He held his hand out and Tommy shook it, noticing the callouses covering the man’s skin and relishing the way his grip lingered against Tommy’s hand for far longer than necessary. 

“Theo,” he introduced himself. “Theo Coleman.” 

“Well, Theo,” Tommy said, smirking up at him. “Why don’t we go see what you’ve got for me?”

Chapter Text

2012

Tommy added a new step to his routine early that year. Eat, sleep, work, gym, and now, Theo. 

Being with Theo was simultaneously one of the hardest and easiest things Tommy had ever done. He wasn’t sure what they had was something he’d call a relationship, but it was probably the closest the both of them would ever get to one. It was the most Tommy had been since Nate. Rather than just a quick night of sex and nothing more, they were… something . They texted, they slept over at each other’s places, they had dinner together and watched movies, and every once in a while, went out on an actual date. Granted, it was always at a location far far away from where anyone they knew might be, but it was a date nevertheless. 

Tommy liked Theo, he really did. If being with Nate had been like fire, then being with Theo was like diving into a lake on a cool summer day. Like something that felt both relieving and enjoyable, that surrounded you and soothed your soul. The man was calm, easy-going, and something about him just settled Tommy. 

Still, they both knew they’d never be anything real. Neither one of them were looking for that, after all. Theo was just as far in the closet as Tommy was. The man hadn’t told his family, his co-workers - Theo was a paramedic at the 147 - his friends, no one. But what they had together, it was enough for the both of them. 

~~~

Tommy hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed waking up in the morning with someone else until he was with Theo. With Nate, they’d never been able to fall asleep with each other, considering how careful they had to be. And with most of his hook-ups, Tommy never bothered staying the night, too concerned about his nightmares accidentally freaking someone out. Theo didn’t mind the nightmares though - probably because he was used to having them himself from calls gone wrong - and would simply murmur soft reassurances to Tommy while curling up around him until Tommy could fall back asleep. 

As he opened his eyes to the soft light filtering in through his shades, the arm draped over his side dragged him closer. Soft lips pressed a trail of kisses up his neck and Tommy rolled over, coming eye to eye with Theo. 

“I have a shift this morning,” he reminded the other man, shivering slightly as Theo nipped at his ear a little. 

“Not for an hour,” Theo replied. 

He moved close enough that Tommy could feel the hot press of the man’s morning wood against him and it took every ounce of willpower he had to reject Theo. 

“You know how long it takes to get to the station with traffic,” Tommy protested, because really, LA traffic was simply horrible . 

Theo pulled back slightly, enough that Tommy could see his slate blue eyes, pupils blown wide. 

“I’ll be quick,” he promised, grinning mischievously. 

By the time Tommy agreed, Theo was already halfway burrowed, mouth expertly wrapped around Tommy’s hard dick. 

~~~

Tommy jogged up the steps to the loft, bracing himself for another shift with their newest captain. Ever since Gerrard left, there’d been a revolving door of captains at the 118 and their newest one, Captain Reynolds, was… well, incompetent was a nice way of putting it. Still, anything was better than Gerrard, so they had all decided they would put up with the man until he inevitably - and hopefully, quickly - left. 

Hen, Howie, and Sal were sitting at the kitchen table when Tommy arrived upstairs, making a direct beeline for the coffee pot. From the looks of it, they were playing Black Jack. 

“Have a fun time last night, Kinard?” Deluca asked, setting down his hand on the table. 

He turned, frowning at the man for a moment before Deluca motioned to his own neck. Tommy cursed under his breath, reaching up and clamping a hand over the spot he suddenly had a vivid memory of Theo sucking a hickey on the night before. His alarm hadn’t gone off that morning, and he’d woken up late, so beyond a quick glance in the mirror, he really hadn’t been paying much attention to how he looked. 

Reaching into the cabinet to pull down a mug, Tommy cleared his throat. 

“Uh, yep,” he replied, faking a bit of a laugh as he poured the coffee. 

“Lucky girl,” Deluca remarked, smirking at him. 

And yet, it wasn’t Deluca’s teasing that bothered him. It was the look Hen shot him, as if she knew every word he said was a lie. 

~~~

Bea showed up to Easter at their mom and Marc’s new place in Palo Alto - which, thanks to Marc’s high salary and his family money, was a nicer place than Tommy could have ever imagined his mother living in - with a boyfriend. They had met at Northwestern and, by the time Bea brought him home, had been dating for almost a year. Will was a nice kid, an engineering major who already had a good job that paid well. He was smart, funny, and attractive enough. There wasn’t a thing wrong with him, other than the fact that he was dating Tommy’s little sister. 

Needless to say, Tommy hated him. 

After dinner was over, Tommy’s mom stood up to grab the dishes, but Marc waved her off, collecting them himself. 

“I can–”

“ Posso farlo, Reese,” he assured her. 

Tommy blinked in surprise a little. He hadn’t realized Marc had learned Italian. The man hadn’t known it before he got together with Tommy’s mom and he had always assumed it would stay that way. After all, Tommy’s father had never bothered to learn it when he could yell at his children in English just fine. 

Will offered to help Marc do the dishes while the rest of them headed into the living room. 

“Could you please quit giving Will such a hard time?” Bea pleaded with Tommy. 

So maybe Tommy had interrogated the kid during dinner just a tiny bit. 

“Who, me?” he asked innocently.

He jokingly batted his eyes at his sister, who proceeded to roll her eyes in retaliation. Luca passed the bottle of whiskey he’d grabbed from the china cabinet to Bea and Tommy watched as she poured herself a hefty glass. Maybe he could ease up just a bit, if she was resorting to getting drunk to get through the rest of the evening. 

“You know, Tommy,” Luca began as he sat down on the couch. “Just because you can’t find a girl to bring home doesn’t mean you can judge the rest of our choices.”

Tommy jolted slightly, wincing a little at his brother’s words. He knew his family would eventually bring up the fact that he hadn’t dated anyone since Caro, but he had hoped to buy himself a little more time, at which point he would have come up with some excuse or another. 

Luckily, as always, one of his siblings had his back. 

“Having him bring no one at all is better than the girls you’ve dated,” Celia shot back at Luca. “Which one tried to steal Dad’s watch again? Crystal?”

Tommy laughed, finishing off his whiskey. Apparently, while Tommy had been in Afghanistan, Luca had brought a girl home for Thanksgiving freshman year and she had proceeded to rifle through their living room until she came across something worth stealing. Thankfully, Bea had caught her in the act. 

“Angela,” Luca muttered in response, prompting Celia to snicker. 

Tommy shot his little sister a grateful look and she smiled at him in response. 

“Find any cute guys at Stanford yet?” Bea asked Celia in a teasing tone. 

Celia was almost finished with her freshman year at Stanford, and Tommy could hardly believe where the time had gone. It seemed like just yesterday she was some tiny little baby with wispy red hair and wide green eyes. But the past few years had flashed by since he’d returned from Afghanistan and one second she’d been some snot-nosed little middle schooler and the next, she was a college student. 

“Maybe if Dad didn’t scare them off,” she complained. 

Tommy snorted slightly, almost coughing up his whiskey. 

“Sorry, kid,” he apologized when Celia shot him a look. “That’s what you get for going to school where your stepdad teaches.”

~~~

Tommy stumbled out of his truck, trudging towards his front door, limbs heavy with exhaustion. It had been a horrible 48 hour shift that had run ridiculously overtime and all Tommy wanted to do was collapse into bed. He had finally bought a house that year, a little two bedroom fixer-upper and while he loved it, he was deeply regretting the fact that it now meant he had to climb a flight of stairs to get to his bedroom. 

After closing the front door - and just barely managing to remember to flip the dead bolt - he headed towards the stairs, only to stop and perch himself against the wall. He just needed a minute or two, just a few seconds to close his eyes and rest for a bit…

“Tommy?” 

Tommy wearily opened his eyes - which somehow felt like an impossibly difficult task - and mentally kicked himself when he caught sight of Theo standing in front of him, concern all over his face. 

He knew he had forgotten something. They were supposed to grab dinner together and Theo was going to spend the night, and in the chaos of the shift, he’d forgotten to text him and cancel. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice sounding absolutely shredded even to his own ears. 

How long had it been since he had water?

“Rough shift?” Theo guessed, moving to take Tommy’s weight and shifting him away from the wall. 

Tommy leaned on the man, having no other choice unless he wanted to face-plant on the hardwood floor. 

“Mhm,” Tommy replied sleepily, blinking in surprise when he fell back slightly, only to find himself perched on the edge of his bed with Theo kneeling by his feet to pull his boots off. 

“Don’t have to stay,” he informed the man, tongue tripping over his words slightly. 

Theo snorted at that as he finally got one of Tommy’s boots off, setting it aside before moving to the other. 

“So I should have left you passed out on your entryway floor?” Theo deadpanned, glancing up at him with a pointed look. 

It was Theo’s trademark Tommy, you’re being stupid look. 

“Not much fun right now,” Tommy replied with a shrug, not having the energy to put even a hint of argument into his voice. 

“If I was just here for sex, yeah, you wouldn’t be,” Theo agreed, his words softer than usual.

Between what seemed to Tommy to be one blink and the next, Theo had somehow gotten him from his bed to into the bathroom, perched on the closed toilet seat as Theo wrestled his shirt off. 

“Wha’ happened to bed?” he asked, shivering a little as the cold bathroom air hit his bare skin. 

“You gotta shower, babe,” Theo told him. “Otherwise you’ll hate yourself come morning.”

Oh, right. He was covered in soot, dirt, sweat, chemicals, and god knows what else. Tommy frowned, not liking the idea of staying awake any longer, but Theo forced him up and into the shower. Luckily, there was a bench Tommy could rest on in the shower, and Theo seemed content to scrub away at the grime on Tommy’s skin, gently washing him clean. 

As gentle fingers scratched at Tommy’s scalp, massaging the shampoo in, Tommy realized he hadn’t been taken care of this way in a long time. Probably not since he was a kid, and even then, he must’ve been little. It wasn’t like his mom hadn’t cared when he’d been hurt, tired, or sick, but by the time Tommy was eight, she’d had three younger children to worry about. He was just… never the biggest priority. And yet, Theo stood there, taking care of him, acting like he was the man’s only concern in the world. 

“Hey, Theo?” he murmured, forcing his brain to work a little harder to get the words out. 

“Scratching too hard?” Theo asked, sounding concerned.

“Thanks,” Tommy said, managing to keep his eyes open long enough to watch Theo’s face soften a little before the man pressed a kiss to Tommy’s freshly cleaned, wet curls. 

“Nothing you wouldn’t do for me,” he replied with a shrug. 

After he’d washed the last of the suds off of Tommy and himself, Theo half-carried Tommy back to bed. The last thing Tommy was aware of before he fell asleep was the man tucking a blanket over him and brushing a wet curl out of his face before Theo tugged him into his arms. 

2013

“No way,” Howie said, staring at him in disbelief as if Tommy had told him he was secretly a Russian spy or something. 

“Is it that hard to believe?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

They had responded to a helicopter crash - yet another idiot who decided that proposing while flying was a brilliant idea - and Tommy had subtly mentioned that he knew how to fly a chopper. 

“The part that’s hard to believe is that someone was stupid enough to give you a pilot’s license,” Deluca remarked from the front seat of the engine. 

Tommy rolled his eyes and looked back to Howie, who still looked as if he was having a stroke. Hen was, per usual, staying out of their antics and simply shrugged when Tommy looked at her for help. 

“We’ve known each other for four years–”

Jeez, had it really been that long?

“And you’re just mentioning this now ?”

Tommy didn’t really understand what the big deal was. It wasn’t like he owned a helicopter after all. He couldn’t just fly wherever he wanted, whenever. As much as he missed it, as he craved the freedom it made him feel, being discharged had meant the end of flying for him, and there was simply nothing he could do about it. 

“I guess?” he replied, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Howie simply shook his head, sighing. 

“I will never understand you,” the man remarked. 

“That was my hope,” Tommy deadpanned. 

If there was anyone who could never possibly be understood, it was Howie. Seriously, Tommy had no idea what the hell went on in that man’s head sometimes. 

“Hen, help me out here,” Howie pleaded, elbowing his partner slightly. 

“Uh-uh, I’m staying out of this,” Hen argued. 

The two had this weird way of bickering that made them seem like either an old married couple or a set of incredibly annoyed siblings. Given Hen had the wonderful, kind Karen, and Howie had…well, Howie, Tommy was going to go with the latter. 

“What’s there to stay out of?” Tommy asked. 

Since when were they having an argument?

“The fact that you’re remarkably aloof about your personal life,” Howie explained. 

Because of course Howie would manage to use any conversation to somehow try and find a single shred of gossip. If Tommy had been as forthcoming as Howie about his life’s story, the man probably would’ve had an entire tabloid written about Tommy by that point.

“Not much to say,” Tommy replied. 

“You just want to be the mysterious helicopter-piloting fire-fighting soldier, don’t you?” Howie retorted. 

Tommy fixed the other man with a look, silently praying Deluca to drive faster. 

“You got me,” he admitted. “That’s my master plan.”

~~~

Thanksgiving that year was rough. Bea brought Will, Luca brought his girlfriend, Samantha - who he was apparently getting ready to propose to - and even Celia managed to bring home a boy. She and Michael had only been dating for a few months and Marc had resolutely refused to allow the kid to dinner, but Celia had spun their mom a sob story about Michael not being able to fly home for Thanksgiving and since Theresa Kinard was never one to turn away a hungry child, their mom all but invited him herself. 

Which meant that, for the first time, Tommy was the only single person at the dinner table. How fun. 

It wasn’t too bad, not really. Dinner was fairly pleasant, even if Luca did make a few jabs at him here and there. That was just how things between him and Tommy were nowadays. 

But it was yet another reminder of another thing his siblings would get to have that he wouldn’t. 

Part of Tommy wanted to just spill the truth right then and there. To tell them all that he was never going to bring a girl home, that he’d be lucky enough to bring a guy home. Except he couldn’t do that. He could never tell them the truth. 

Shortly after Thanksgiving, he stopped showing up for his appointments with Natalie. He was getting worse at lying ever since he’d gotten together with Theo and he knew, sooner or later, the doctor would see straight through his lies.

Chapter Text

2014

“Can I ask you something?” Tommy asked Theo from where he was still lounging in bed, watching the other man get dressed. 

Theo looked up at him with a grin, hopping on one foot slightly as he pulled a pair of pants on. 

“When has me saying no ever stopped you?” he quipped, tone full of mirth as he reached for his belt on the dresser. 

Tommy had a feeling Theo was going to regret letting him ask, but he had gotten this far. He figured he might as well pull the trigger. 

“Do you… your family doesn’t know you’re gay,” Tommy stated, taking a deep breath and feeling a wave of guilt wash over him when Theo froze, all amusement fading from his face. “Is that because you think they wouldn’t be okay with it, or because you know they wouldn’t be?”

It was something Tommy had been considering recently. Not that he had any plans to tell his family but if he was really being honest with himself, he didn’t know how they would react. He had always assumed it would be in a negative way, despite the fact that no one in his family had ever said anything remotely homophobic. Well, except his father. But despite that, he still couldn’t tell them the truth. The risk just wasn’t worth it. 

“I know they wouldn’t be,” Theo answered quietly, no longer looking at Tommy as he buckled his belt painstakingly slowly. 

Theo was the type of guy who talked about his family a lot. Tommy, of course, had no issue with that, considering he was the same way, but it had resulted in Tommy knowing a lot about the Coleman family. Theo was the middle child of five, and had three brothers and one sister. He was a few years younger than Tommy at 24, which meant his oldest brother was right around Tommy’s age. Theo talked about his older siblings the way Tommy only hoped his siblings talked about him, like they had hung the moon and the stars. 

His parents sounded nice too. Theo’s dad was a firefighter and his mom used to be a nurse. They seemed like normal, loving parents. Granted, Tommy’s bar was low as far as fathers went, but Theo always talked about his dad in a positive manner. 

And yet despite all of that, Theo seemed absolutely certain his family would hate him for who he was. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Tommy could say in response. 

Theo drew his lips together, nodding slowly and swallowing in a way that allowed Tommy to see his Adam's apple bob up and down in his throat. 

“Me too,” he said quietly, his words so soft Tommy could hardly hear them. 

~~~

The rain was coming down harder than Tommy had seen it in years. There was practically a monsoon outside, which of course meant they had been on non-stop calls all day. It was the type of rain that almost seemed biblical, like an apocalyptic flood. Granted, in LA, two inches of rain might as well have been an apocalyptic flood. 

Seriously, did no one in this whole town know how to drive?

A jeep had hydroplaned on the highway and rolled several times, trapping a young couple inside. By the time they’d gotten to them, it had been too late for the boyfriend and the girlfriend became hysterical once they started extracting her from the car. 

And yet, it hadn’t been the girl’s screams that had bothered Tommy, that haunted him even once they returned to the station. It had been the sight of the boyfriend’s lifeless gray eyes, wild brown curls, and the pair of dog tags dangling around his neck. The victim, in far too many ways, reminded Tommy enough of Nate to leave him choking back tears and pushing away waves of nausea. 

Even sitting in the quiet locker room, far away from the raging storm outside and even further away from the desert where he’d lost Nate, he still couldn’t get the sight of the victim out of his head, the man’s face blending with Nate’s own. 

“You okay?” a voice asked, causing him to jolt slightly. 

He looked over to find Hen carefully closing her locker, having finished packing her bag for the night. 

“Fine,” he croaked out, moving to finally take off his boots in an attempt to seem somewhat functional. 

“Did she remind you of someone?” Hen pressed, nothing but concern in her voice. “The passenger?”

Tommy stayed quiet, his usual response when anyone got too curious about his life outside of the station, and eventually, Hen let out a sigh, standing up to leave. 

“Night, Tommy,” she said kindly, not sounding at all upset about the fact that he was basically ignoring her. 

Even years later, Tommy couldn’t say exactly what prompted him to speak in that moment. Maybe it was Hen’s kindness, or the way his body still trembled as he thought of the call. Or maybe it was just the fact that the lie he’d been repeating his whole life was suddenly drowning him and he desperately wanted to get rid of it. 

“Nate,” the name slipped out of his mouth faster than he could process. 

Hen froze, standing completely still for a moment before slowly turning to look at him. 

“His name was Nate. Nate Campbell.”

And just like that, Henrietta Wilson - who Tommy was fairly certain still hated him a little - knew his deepest, darkest secret. 

~~~

Weeks went by and as far as Tommy could tell, Hen hadn’t told anyone what they’d spoken of that night. Granted, he hadn’t actually said the words aloud - that he was gay, that he had been in love with Nate - but Hen was more than smart enough to read between the lines. Plus, he highly doubted that Hen was the type of person to out someone, even if Tommy wasn’t her favorite person in the world. 

Still, Tommy couldn’t help but feel like he was in the calm before a storm. Like something was coming, he just didn’t know what. 

And then one afternoon while Tommy was finishing up the dishes in the loft, Deluca called to him from the truck bay. 

“Kinard! Someone’s down here looking for you!” 

Frowning in confusion, Tommy wracked his brain for who could be visiting as he headed downstairs. Anyone in his family would’ve called first, and they were all in San Francisco anyways. Theo certainly wouldn’t show up at the station and pretty much the only other people he knew in LA were those he worked with or some people he’d met at the gym, which wasn’t that many. 

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he found Deluca standing with a kid, probably about 16 or 17, with soft brown curly hair and strangely familiar green eyes. 

“Can I help you with something?” Tommy asked the kid, shooting Deluca a glare until the man wandered off. 

“You’re Tommy Kinard?” the boy questioned. 

“Last time I checked,” he replied evenly, wishing the kid would just skip to the point as he led them to a spot just outside the garage doors to get a bit more privacy. The cool February air nipped at his skin a little, but he’d take the cold any day over the blistering summer heat in LA. “Who’s asking?”

The boy fidgeted slightly in a way that sent another spark of recognition through Tommy and yet he didn’t know why. It seemed more than just deja vu, but he couldn’t figure out where he knew the kid from. 

“I’m um… my name’s Asher Montgomery,” the kid explained nervously, tripping over his words a little. “And I uh– I think I’m your brother.”

Tommy’s immediate reaction was to bark out a laugh but his amusement quickly died down when he realized the kid wasn’t joking. He really thought he was Tommy’s brother. 

“Listen, kid,” Tommy argued. “I’ve only got one brother and–”

“I was born in March of ‘98. To Sarah Montgomery and… Patrick Kinard.”

Tommy stared at Asher, taking in the kid’s words, when it suddenly occurred to him why the boy’s eyes seemed so familiar. Luca and Celia had the exact same green eyes. Eyes they had gotten from their father. 

He’d never thought of his father as a cheater. An abusive husband, a failure of a father, sure. But a cheater? Not really. But for Asher to be telling the truth, then his father would’ve had to have cheated. His parents hadn’t divorced until 2001, over three years after the kid was born. 

“If you really think I’m wrong,” Asher began hesitantly, eyes begging for Tommy to say otherwise. “I can go.”

As much as he wanted to tell the kid he was wrong, to quit bothering Tommy, to stay out of his life, he couldn’t. Because when he looked at the boy standing in front of him, Tommy didn’t see his father. He saw Celia and Luca, and perhaps a tiny bit of Bea. He saw another little sibling that was his responsibility, another kid to protect. 

“No,” Tommy interrupted. “I don’t think you’re wrong.”

And just like that, Tommy had another little brother. 

~~~

Luckily for Tommy - and the rest of his family - Asher hadn’t seen or heard from their father in over four years. He said that Patrick had been around a little when he was younger, which Tommy pieced together to be right around the time they had kicked his father out of the house. Asher’s mother, Sarah, stayed with their father for a while, when Patrick apparently went too far one day and got chased off by yet another family. He disappeared until Asher turned twelve, which was the year Sarah died of breast cancer and CPS had contacted Patrick to see if he wanted custody of Asher. 

Unsurprisingly, he hadn’t. 

Tommy thought it was for the best, but it also unfortunately meant that Asher was living in a group home, having been deemed too old for a foster family anymore. 

“It’s not so bad,” Asher promised him one morning when they met up at a diner. 

The way he scarfed down the breakfast Tommy had bought him plus half of Tommy’s own said otherwise. 

He didn’t think the kid was being abused, not physically at least, but it certainly wasn’t a good environment for Asher to be in.

As time went by, Asher came around more and more. They’d meet for breakfast some mornings - Tommy always paid the bill - or Asher would hang out at the station working on homework after school. There were even a few times where he crashed on Tommy’s couch, having promised that the caretakers at the group home wouldn’t even notice he was gone. 

That didn’t exactly reassure Tommy the way Asher thought it would. 

Every day he spent with Asher, Tommy saw more and more of his siblings in the boy. He had Celia’s smile and Bea’s sense of humor. Just like Luca, the kid could devour a book in a single afternoon, no matter how long. Asher liked baseball better than football, hated anything orange flavored, and insisted that Love Actually was incredibly overrated. 

With the exception of that last part, he was a good kid. A great kid. And it wasn’t long before he, like the rest of Tommy’s siblings, had Tommy wrapped around his finger. 

Tommy just wished he could do more for the kid. Sure, he could buy him breakfast, or books, and take him to the movies occasionally, but that didn’t do anything to fix the loneliness he saw in his little brother. The group home certainly wasn’t a loving environment, and being moved around a lot apparently made it hard to make friends, so the kid was low on those as well. Tommy saw the way Asher tried to stall every time he had to go back to the group home, the way he would get quiet when Tommy would bring up the rest of his family. 

But there was nothing Tommy could do. He had done a bit of digging, going so far as to call Asher’s case worker, but as it turned out, a single male barely in his 30s who worked crazy, unpredictable hours and had a diagnosis of PTSD wasn’t exactly considered a fit guardian. 

He told the rest of the family when he went up to Palo Alto for Thanksgiving and their reactions were… mixed to say the least. Tommy had tried to break the news as gently as possible, but there were only so many ways one could explain it. Everyone fell quiet once Tommy was finished telling the whole story and after a few minutes, Luca was the first one to break the silence. 

“Why are you even still talking to the kid?” he asked, his words harsh and sharp. 

If there was one thing in the world Tommy could count on anymore it was that, given the opportunity, Luca would be an ass. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Tommy countered. “He’s our brother.”

Luca scoffed, shaking his head at Tommy. 

“He’s our sorry excuse of a sperm donor’s bastard,” Luca sniped. “That hardly makes him our brother.”

And while Tommy had let Luca get away with saying a lot of shit about him over the years, he wasn’t about to let him talk about their little brother like that. 

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Tommy ordered, well aware how sharp his voice was in that moment. 

“Cut the shit, Tommy,” Luca snapped back. “No one’s asking Saint Thomas to swoop in and act like he’s saving yet another Kinard kid.” 

Luca had always fought Tommy’s claims that he joined the Army for their family. Instead, Luca usually just argued that he had run away from the rest of them and his problems, that he left everyone else to deal with the mess their father had left. As if Tommy hadn’t sent home money every month that kept Luca, Bea, and Celia fed, money that meant Luca didn’t have to get a job and could focus on school, allowing him to go to Tulane. If Tommy hadn’t joined the Army, Luca would probably be just as much of a mess as he was. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?” Tommy seethed, barely keeping hold of his rage. 

“That the last thing this family needs is you making another mess for us to clean up!” 

“You know what–”

“Just because–”

“That’s enough!” Marc interrupted, his hand smacking the table with a loud thud. 

The man had to yell to be heard over Luca and Tommy, who hadn’t even realized quite how loud the two of them had gotten. In the almost ten years Marc had been with Tommy’s mom, he’d never once heard the man raise his voice, not even a little bit. The noise was startling, sending both Luca and Tommy quiet in an instant. 

Tommy immediately felt guilty about fighting the second he looked over at his mom, who was far more upset than he’d seen her in years. Bea was glaring at the both of them with a disappointed expression, while Celia just looked resigned, and Will and Samantha watched the scene with wide eyes. 

“Now, you boys want to fight? Fine. But you’re not doing it in this house,” Marc told them firmly, his voice colder than Tommy had ever heard it. “Understood?” 

Tommy nodded and Luca scoffed, but eventually nodded at the glare Marc shot him before getting up and storming out of the house. Samantha followed after him, likely shaking her head at her husband’s utter stupidity. 

His feeling of triumph at Luca’s departure lasted all of two seconds before his mom announced she needed a minute and quickly left the room. 

“Bea, try not to let your brothers kill each other,” Marc instructed Tommy’s sister before he left the room behind Theresa. 

“Sure thing, Dad,” Bea muttered, pouring herself a hefty glass of wine. 

Tommy watched as Bea and Celia exchanged a series of looks, having the type of silent conversation only sisters could have. Finally, Bea turned to him and Tommy braced himself to be yelled at. But instead of a lecture, Bea’s voice came out calm and curious. 

“So, are you gonna tell us about our baby brother or not?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Chapter Text

2014

Celia, Marc, and Theresa came to LA that December to see the renovations Tommy had finished on the house, and to have dinner for Marc's birthday. It had taken a while to get the house the way he wanted it to be, but it had finally come to feel like home. His mom had instantly taken over the kitchen while Celia and Tommy cracked open the liquor cabinet and Marc took a work call in the guest bedroom. 

As Theresa was finishing up cooking dinner, the doorbell rang but Tommy stayed seated, having heard Marc’s footsteps approaching the door. After a moment, Marc called for him from the entryway and Tommy crossed through the kitchen and down the hall to the front door. 

When he got into the entryway, he found Marc standing in front of the open door, looking at Asher on the porch. Marc shot him a questioning look and Tommy nodded in confirmation, taking the man’s spot in the doorway as he moved out of the way. 

“Hey, Ash,” he greeted his brother, who was avoiding eye contact and staring at the freshly re-stained porch. “What’s up?”

As far as Tommy remembered, they didn’t have plans until their usual weekly breakfast on Friday. Granted, Asher sometimes showed up without warning, but that didn’t happen too often given Tommy’s work schedule was typically complicated. 

“Sorry,” Asher mumbled, acting far more hesitant than he’d been around Tommy in months. “I didn’t know they were here.” 

Tommy hadn’t told the kid that telling the rest of the family about him had gone poorly but considering the fact that their other siblings hadn’t been introduced to him, he was pretty sure Asher had pieced it together. 

“Don’t worry about it, bud,” he assured his little brother, heart clenching slightly at how uncertain Asher looked. 

Asher was constantly worried about bothering Tommy, and despite the fact that Tommy had assured the kid multiple times that he liked having him around, he knew his brother was worried Tommy was going to get sick of him eventually. Knowing the rest of the family was at the house was probably only making the kid feel more like an unwanted guest. 

Knowing Asher usually only showed up unannounced for one of two reasons - either in search of food or a quiet place to do homework when the group home was too busy and the library was closed - Tommy took a guess, hoping for the latter even though Asher didn’t have his backpack with him. 

“You trying to get some work done?” he asked, only to be disappointed when Asher shook his head. 

While Asher had assured Tommy that the group home didn’t purposely withhold food, there apparently wasn’t quite enough to go around most of the time and that combined with kids who liked to steal off of other people’s plates and the fact that Asher was a growing kid meant he was hungry practically all the time. Since being hungry wasn’t a rare occurrence for him, Asher only came sniffing around Tommy’s for food when he was truly desperate, which meant Tommy was about to have to turn away his starving little brother. 

“Just thought I’d see what you were up to,” Asher attempted to lie, failing miserably. 

Tommy bit back a wince at the sound of his brother’s stomach growling, watching Asher flush a bit in embarrassment and fold in on himself to try and squash down his hunger in a move Tommy knew all too well.

Despite Asher’s repeated rejections of Tommy’s offers of money - Tommy had to fight to pay every bill they got at the diner - he gave it one more try. 

“Your stomach says otherwise, kid,” Tommy deadpanned before switching to a softer voice when Asher curled into himself more, remembering he had to be a bit gentler with this particular little sibling. “Let me grab my wallet and –”

“Tomaso, are you going to let the boy in or not?”

Tommy turned around to find his mother standing in the hall, wiping her hands off on her apron. He stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to figure out if he had heard her properly or not. 

“Marc’s setting another place at the table,” she added before disappearing back into the kitchen. 

He looked back at Asher, who was beginning to look like he regretted knocking on Tommy’s door. Tommy shrugged, opening the door more and stepping aside to let Asher through. 

“Trust me, it’s best not to argue with her,” Tommy explained as he brought his little brother inside. 

2015

It felt like everyone around him had finally found joy for the first time. His mom was happier than ever with Marc. Luca and Samantha were expecting a baby in the winter and Will was apparently planning on proposing to Bea any day. Celia was set to graduate from Stanford in the spring with a degree in aerospace engineering. They all had picture perfect lives.  

Meanwhile, Tommy just had an overwhelmingly intense feeling that he was trapped. Trapped in a miserable life, where he wasn’t actually doing anything worth doing. He wasn’t sure how to fix it, if he could fix it, but he knew he couldn’t live how he was anymore. 

He wanted to live. 

He wanted his life to matter. 

So, for the first time in close to two years, he picked up the phone and called Natalie’s office. As it turned out, when you ghost your therapist, they aren’t usually too happy to hear from you again. 

“My secretary told you I didn’t have any openings for patients,” Natalie reminded him after he showed up at her office and sat in the waiting room all day. 

It wasn’t his finest moment, but desperate people make desperate decisions. 

“C’mon doc, please,” he begged as they made their way down the stairs. 

Tommy had managed to convince the woman to talk to him for five minutes during Natalie’s walk down to her car. 

“Can I be honest?” Natalie asked him impatiently as she finally turned around to look at him, having reached her car. 

“You always are,” Tommy reminded her, a bit of hope flickering through him. 

“That’s my point, Tommy. I’m always honest. But I don’t think you are,” she said gently. “And that’s okay. Maybe I’m just not the right fit for you. I could recommend someone else–”

“I don’t want someone else,” Tommy cut her off.

He had tried other therapists before Natalie, and none of them had helped. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Natalie couldn’t help. Tommy wanted to fix things, to get better, he really did. But he couldn’t do it alone.

“If you’re not willing to put in the work–”

Tommy took a deep breath, preparing himself to say the words he’d been holding back as a last resort, the two words he’d never spoken aloud.  

“I’m gay.”

Natalie blinked at him in surprise for a moment and then carefully nodded. 

“I have an opening next Tuesday,” she offered.

~~~

Tommy’s phone was ringing obnoxiously loud for two o’clock in the morning and he groaned, rolling over on his side to grab his phone off the bedside table.

“Howie, if you woke me up to talk about another movie–” he grumbled, still half asleep. 

“I’m at the station,” Howie cut him off, reminding Tommy that the man had picked up an extra shift for someone from C-Shift that week. “And Asher just showed up.”

Tommy sat up in bed, now fully awake from the panic rushing through him. Asher coming by the station wasn’t unusual, but at two in the morning? He’d never. Scrambling out of bed, Tommy felt around in the dark for some clothes. 

“Is he okay?” he demanded to know, quickly throwing on some clothes as he grabbed his keys. 

“He’s not hurt,” Howie clarified, his voice steady enough to soothe Tommy’s worries slightly. “But I wouldn’t say he’s okay.”

By the time Tommy made it to the station, C-Shift was out on a call, leaving the building empty with the exception of Howie and Asher. He bounded up the stairs to the loft to find the two of them sitting on the sofa, with Howie chattering away to fill the silence left by Asher. The other man looked relieved to see Tommy, and quickly made himself scarce.

Tommy didn’t pay Howie much attention as the paramedic headed downstairs, barely remembering to thank the man as he took in the sight of his little brother. Asher’s bright green eyes were red-rimmed and dull, a clear indication he’d been crying at some point. He was barely 5’10, so to Tommy, his little brother always seemed small, but the way his shoulders were hunched made him seem even tinier than normal. 

Sitting down on the couch next to him, Tommy could see how exhausted Asher looked, evident from the bags under his eyes and the way his hands shook slightly where they were wrapped around a mug of tea Howie must have made for him. 

“What’s going on, Ash?” Tommy asked, fighting to keep his voice steady and gentle, because the last thing his brother needed was him getting upset. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Asher swallowed heavily, opening his mouth to speak before closing it a few times, clearly struggling to find the words to say what he needed to. 

“I– I was scared,” he said eventually, voice hardly above a whisper. 

“You were scared?” Tommy pressed slowly, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer but forcing himself to ask anyway. “At the group home?” 

Asher shook his head, head firmly pointed downwards.

“I was…” Asher paused, finally looking back up at him and allowing Tommy to see the pain and fear in his little brother’s eyes. “I was out at the– at the Vincent Thomas Bridge.”

Tommy stilled, a bolt of terror running through him as his mind put together the pieces to the puzzle. Logically, he knew there was only one reason to be at a bridge in the middle of the night, but Tommy prayed he was somehow wrong. He prayed that Asher had been there for some other reason. He prayed that he hadn’t been so blind that he couldn’t see that his baby brother needed help. 

But then Tommy saw the tears in Asher’s eyes and he knew exactly what had happened that night. 

“I– I’m sorry,” Asher rushed to say, choking on the words slightly as his tears finally began to fall. “But I h-hate it there and I’m so tired, Tommy and I just w-wanted it to stop and –”

Tommy yanked Asher into his arms, unable to sit there listening to his little brother fall apart for a second longer without doing anything. And Asher just clung to him, holding on so tightly to Tommy’s sweatshirt that he was sure the fabric would rip. His fingers threaded through wet brown curls when he guided Asher’s head to rest against his chest, trying to keep Asher snuggly in his arms to protect him from the rest of the world. 

Because he knew what it felt like to be that desperate. To feel like you had no other option. It was lonely, painful, and completely terrifying and while Tommy had been sound asleep in bed, Asher had been scared and alone.

“It’s okay, you’re safe,” Tommy promised as he pressed a kiss to the top of Asher’s head, saying the words for his own benefit just as much as his brother’s. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. It’s gonna be okay, I swear.”

He continued his soft stream of reassurances between the sound of Asher’s sobs and frantic apologies, holding him a little tighter with every one and vowing to do whatever he had to do to keep his baby brother safe. 

~~~

As much as Tommy wanted to bring Asher to the hospital, he couldn’t. He knew that Asher needed to get checked out, but if they went to the hospital, then it would end up in Asher’s CPS file, and that would only make everything far worse. So, with no other ideas, he called Natalie and begged her for a favor. 

He sat in the waiting room while the two of them talked and tried to think of some way he could possibly fix this. The state was still adamantly refusing to give him custody, which was bullshit considering the fact that Tommy’s shitty parenting skills were far better than the group home. Asher couldn’t stay there, not anymore. It had never been a great place from the sounds of it – not enough food, noise that made it hard for any sane human to sleep at night, too many other kids picking fights and stealing from each other, harsh employees on power trips - but Tommy knew it had gotten worse recently. He’d seen the way Asher seemed to be more exhausted every time he saw him, how he’d been getting skinnier despite Tommy practically force-feeding him a feast whenever he came by the house. Asher had even complained once or twice that his grades had been dropping since it was practically impossible to get any sort of work done at the group home, nevermind when he was hungry and tired. 

After almost an hour, Natalie and Asher emerged from her office and with a nod of approval from Asher, Natalie pulled Tommy down the hall a little to talk while Asher slumped down into a chair in the waiting room. 

“How is he?” Tommy asked impatiently, keeping his voice low enough so that Asher wouldn’t be able to hear anything more than hushed whispers. 

Natalie took a deep breath in, letting the air out in a sigh. 

“It’s… it’s not great, Tommy,” she explained. “He doesn’t seem to be intent on killing himself, but the ideation is definitely there.” 

“He certainly seemed intent last night, Natalie!” he snapped, barely remembering to lower his voice in time. 

Natalie gave him a look that told him to settle down and he spared a glance over to assure, noting that the kid thankfully hadn’t noticed Tommy’s outburst.  

“He says he hasn’t slept in two days. Exhaustion can make someone do a lot of things they regret,” Natalie reminded him. “But I’m concerned that if he stays in his current placement with no extra support…”

Tommy ran a hand through his hair, yanking on the strands a little to keep focused. He hadn’t needed Natalie to tell him that, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Asher seemed convinced that if he was moved to a different placement, it would only be worse, and Tommy couldn’t say he disagreed. But at the same time, his little brother was only 16, and Tommy knew he wouldn’t last another two years there. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Tommy confessed bitterly. “CPS won’t let me have him.”

“Could one of your siblings take him?” Natalie asked, a bit of hope in her voice. 

The only one who would really have a shot at getting approved was Luca, and Tommy knew there was no way in hell he would take Asher in. Besides, Luca and Samantha still lived out in New Orleans, and Tommy had no clue how that would affect them getting approved, and with the baby that was due in the winter, another kid was the last thing they needed. 

“Bea probably wouldn’t get approved and Celia definitely wouldn’t,” Tommy answered, disappointed by his response. “And my brother, he– he can’t take him and even if he could–”

“He wouldn’t,” Natalie finished for him. 

Tommy had always been a person who fixed things, especially when it came to his siblings. He had spent his childhood helping his siblings with their homework, patching up cuts and scrapes, giving them advice on how to deal with friends, that sort of stuff. 

But this?

Tommy didn’t know how to fix this. 

Chapter Text

2015

The next month went by at a snail’s pace and by the time June came around, Tommy wasn’t sure how much longer he could take the constant worry. Asher was doing a little bit better, but not as much as Tommy would have liked. He spent as much time as he could at Tommy’s place and stayed the night once or twice a week if he thought the group home wouldn’t notice. If Tommy was on shift, he’d swing by the station after school and hang around until after dinner, which Captain Mackenzie thankfully didn’t mind. But it wasn’t enough, and Tommy knew that. 

He tried not to let his worry show, not wanting Asher to feel guilty, but it was hard. Every time the phone rang, he couldn’t help but think that it was someone calling him to inform him his baby brother was gone. Hen, Howie, and even Deluca all tried to distract him from thinking about it too much, but they weren’t with Tommy all of the time. 

So, when his mom and Marc decided to come to LA for a surprise visit, he was grateful for the distraction. 

“Do you have a conference while you’re here?” Tommy asked Marc as they had dinner at the table in Tommy’s kitchen.

A conference was usually the reason for Marc’s visits, or an occasional guest lecturing opportunity. His stepfather was apparently considered one of the best in his field, not that Tommy understood a single word of Marc’s thesis or research projects. 

“Uh no, not this time,” Marc answered, glancing over at Theresa, the two of them having a silent conversation that clearly didn’t include Tommy. 

Something had been off about them ever since they set foot in Tommy’s house. At first, he thought they were fighting but had later decided that clearly wasn’t the case. Not that they ever really fought anyways. Then he had wondered if he had done something recently, but after wracking his brain, he couldn’t think of anything he could’ve done to upset either of them. 

“How’s Asher?” his mom asked eventually, sounding genuinely curious. 

Tommy had called Celia after Asher had finally fallen asleep in his guest room once they got back from Natalie’s office. He had needed to talk to someone about it, and seeing as how Celia was the only one of his siblings to have met Asher so far, he figured she was probably the best to call. She’d been upset by the news, of course, and had tried to come up with ideas to try and help Asher, but none of them had been ones Tommy hadn’t already thought about or tried. Eventually, Tommy had been forced to hang up, but Celia had promised to tell Bea and Luca - if he even cared - and had told their mom as well. 

“I’m worried about him,” Tommy answered with a sigh, poking at his food a little. “But there’s not much else I can do at this point so...”

He could have gone more in-depth with his response, but he figured his mom honestly didn’t really want to hear about it. Besides, it was the truth. 

Tommy had already exhausted all of his options to help Asher. He made sure he had a key to Tommy’s house if he needed to make a quick exit from the group home, he ensured he was fed every time Tommy saw him and always gave him cash for more when he wasn’t around. Hell, he even managed to get the kid to Natalie’s office whenever she had an opening in her schedule - usually on a random afternoon one day a week - since she had agreed to take him on pro-bono, considering they couldn’t really get insurance approval for him to actually have his own psychologist. 

“He’s a sweet boy,” Theresa commented, causing Tommy to blink in surprise a little. While his mom had been perfectly pleasant the night Asher had dinner with them, she hadn’t said much to him during dinner, and hadn’t mentioned anything about him to Tommy afterwards. Which Tommy figured was fair, considering Asher was pretty much just a living reminder that her abusive ex-husband had been having an affair for several years of their marriage. “He reminds me of you when you were that age.”

Tommy wasn’t really sure what to do with that statement and simply nodded, although he privately thought that he had probably been much more of an obnoxious teenager at 16 than Asher was. 

“So you just decided to come visit… for fun?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

It was no secret that his mom had a bizarre hatred for LA and only ever came if necessary. She would of course come if asked, or if Marc had something to do for work, but most of the time, she preferred her children visiting Palo Alto instead. 

Marc and his mom exchanged another series of glances and just as Tommy’s patience was almost gone, they both looked back at him. 

“Your mom and I have been talking recently,” Marc explained slowly. “And we’ve been considering – well, more than considering –”

“We want Asher to come live with us,” Theresa finished firmly. 

More surprising words had never come out of his mom’s mouth in Tommy’s entire life. An hour ago, he had been convinced his mother hated – well, perhaps hated was a strong word, but at least disliked - Asher, and suddenly she and Marc were ready to what? Adopt him?

‘I– what?” Tommy stammered. 

“CPS has already approved it,” Marc offered, as if that was the part of it all that was so confusing to Tommy. 

“But why?” 

His mom looked at him using an expression she’d definitely got from Bea - or rather, Bea had gotten it from her, but his sister used it far more often - one that clearly said Tommy was being an idiot. 

“Why not?” his mom countered, as if they were just talking about getting a stray dog from the shelter or something that wasn’t a living, breathing human child. 

As Tommy tried to come up with an acceptable answer to that question, Marc continued speaking. 

“The house has been too quiet since Celia left for school,” he told Tommy. “And we couldn’t think of a reason why we shouldn’t take him in. Can you?”

“I’m sure Luca could,” Tommy retorted, thinking about his brother’s reaction to all of this. 

“He was the one who helped us find a lawyer to settle things with CPS,” his mom replied. 

Luca had helped Asher? Willingly? Tommy was suddenly convinced he had to be dreaming, or tripping, or had somehow been sent to an alternate universe. 

There was really only one reason Tommy could think of why his mom and Marc shouldn’t take Asher in, but it was a glaringly obvious one. Asher was his father’s son. It was as simple as that. No matter how much they all liked to ignore that fact, none of them could change the fact that they were the children of Patrick Kinard. His mom had spent almost 20 years in hell because of their father and now she suddenly wanted to take in his child? It just didn’t make sense. 

“Ma, you don’t have to do this,” Tommy reminded her, although it killed him to do anything that could get in the way of helping Asher. “You don’t– you don’t owe him this. You don’t owe him anything .”

They both knew Tommy wasn’t talking about Asher in that moment, but rather a different Kinard. 

“Maso, I’m not doing this because Asher is your father’s son,” his mom explained gently, reaching forward and cupping his face with one hand, like she used to do all the time when he was little. “I’m doing this because he’s your brother. Yours, and Luca’s, Bea's, and Celia’s. How could we not love him for that?”

Tommy reached for his mom’s other hand, squeezing it firmly and looking at both her and Marc. 

“Thank you,” he said softly, meaning it more than they could ever know. 

~~~

It took Tommy days of persuasion, convincing, and straight up begging to get Asher to agree to move in with his mom and Marc. It wasn’t that Asher didn’t like them - quite the opposite in fact - but they were still basically strangers to him, and the kid was scared about the change, as well as being a burden to them. By the time Tommy had managed to convince him that that wouldn’t be the case, and all the paperwork and legal issues were settled, it was already August. 

He went up to Palo Alto with Asher to help get him settled - thankfully, just in time for the new school year - but eventually he’d been forced to leave his little brother in the capable hands of his mom and Marc and return to LA. 

It was a little lonelier in the city without Asher, since Tommy had grown used to having his little brother around so much, but he’d take the loneliness any day if it meant Asher was safe and happy. 

~~~

“All right, folks, five minutes,” Hen announced loudly as she walked towards him and Sal. “House is open. $20 goes in, $100 pays out.”

She had their usual betting box in her hand and as with every new captain they’d had, it was time to gamble on how long they’d last. Tommy was currently riding a six captain winning streak ever since Gerrard had left. Howie swore he was cheating somehow, although Tommy didn’t know how that’d even be possible. He just had a good sense for how long a captain would last. Tommy had always been good at reading people and he knew exactly what it took for a captain to make it and whether someone had it or not. 

“What's the over-under?” Howie asked.

Tommy wasn’t sure why the man was even trying anymore. He lost horribly every single time they played this game. But if there was one thing he’d come to understand about Howard Han, it was that the paramedic never gave up, even when he probably should. 

“I got six weeks,” Hen replied. 

Tommy considered it for a moment, going through what he knew about their new captain in his head. Robert Nash was from Minnesota, which might as well have been the butt-fuck middle of nowhere compared to LA. Fourth generation firefighter, which could either mean he was impressive or had zero skill and had relied solely on nepotism so far in his career. Still though, he had to give the guy a bit of a chance. 

“Give me four on credit,” he told Hen, who scoffed in response as he held up his hands in defense. “I gotta run to the ATM.”

He’d used the last of the cash in his wallet to buy his morning coffee - just a large plain cold brew - from his usual cafe that he stopped at before work. 

“Boy, I'm gonna eat your lunch, and you better pay up 'cause I know the bookie, and she's a madwoman,” Hen threatened and Tommy nodded obediently. 

He had learned by now that anyone who messed with Hen Wilson had to have a death wish, be certifiably crazy, or both. 

“Sal, you in?” Hen asked. 

“I'll give him one week, tops. Guy's from, like, Nebraska,” Sal answered roughly. 

Sal had told him one night over drinks that he’d been passed over for the captain’s spot, and Tommy knew the man was still bitter about it. Deluca was a prideful guy, and Tommy had a feeling he wasn’t going to take well to yet another captain waltzing in like they owned the place. 

“Minnesota, actually,” Howie corrected.

“Whatever. There's New York, there's L.A., and in between, there's Nebraska,” Deluca retorted.

Yep, he was definitely still bitter. What the hell did Nebraska ever do to him?

“Ooh, Chicago's gonna kick your ass,” Hen remarked as she collected money from Hastings. 

“Hey, there's a whole lot of Little Leagues out there, but if you ain't the Yankees, you're just not playing baseball.”

“Doesn't everybody hate the Yankees?” Tommy asked, wiping his hands off on a rag. 

He certainly always had. Growing up, he’d been a Mariners fan but after living in LA for so long, he’d converted to supporting the Dodgers. Part of it was due to the fact that he’d never been a die-hard Mariners fan in the first place, but there was also the added benefit that he would no longer have to support the same team his father used to watch every single week while the rest of them crept silently around the house, not wanting to risk disturbing him. 

“Listen, we've had, like, six captains in two years. We're like the Island of Misfit Toys for retiring brass,” Hen explained. “Might be nice for somebody to stick around for a while.”

Tommy silently agreed but didn’t say as much. The last thing Deluca needed him doing was suddenly being on the new captain’s side before they even met the guy. 

“I'm saying the barn burns down or the road needs salting, sure, guy's a rock star. Fire at the fair, news at 11:00,” Deluca snarked. “But L.A.'s gonna look like Mars to this Podunk, and we're fresh out of training wheels.” 

The truck siren blared suddenly, causing Tommy to startle a little. They all turned around, freezing when they saw a man who could only be their new captain hopping out of the engine. 

“You're also out of half the supplies that should be stocked on this truck,” Nash lectured them as Tommy stared down at the rag in his hands, avoiding looking at the man. As Natalie had so kindly informed him, Tommy apparently had issues with older male authority figures, especially ones he didn’t know. No wonder he had hated Marc for years. Yet another lovely thing he had to thank his father for. 

“So... give me the odds on lasting longer than one or all of you,” the captain continued as he tossed a bill into Hen’s box before walking away. “Briefing in five.”

And funnily enough, Tommy thought he just might. He was different from the other captains, more determined. This wasn’t just the last stop for him before retirement. It was actually a job for him. 

“I've got 20 on the Viking,” Howie said as they watched Nash walk up to the loft. 

~~~

Bobby’s first day was a chaotic mess that ended with them almost getting stabbed by a murderous chicken. Tommy was pretty certain he was going to have nightmares about Maurice for years, but he had to admit, the look on Sergeant Grant’s face when the captain handed her the chicken was pretty worth it. While Captain Nash might not have known how to get through LA traffic or how to rescue a tree trimmer from palm fronds, Tommy thought he might just make it longer than their previous captains had. 

“How dumb do you have to be to put razor blades on a chicken?” Howie asked as they sat in the truck heading back to the station. 

“They’re mean enough as is,” Tommy added, shuddering a little at how much damage Maurice had done in such a short amount of time. 

“I don’t understand how you can go fight terrorists in Afghanistan and be afraid of a bird,” Sal snarked. 

Tommy caught Bobby glancing quickly at him in the rearview mirror, but the man stayed quiet for the time being. 

“Not birds, just chickens,” Tommy corrected. “And surprisingly, you don’t see a lot of those when you’re flying a helicopter.”

The captain cracked a grin at that while Deluca just sighed, completely exasperated. 

~~~

To everyone’s surprise, Bobby Nash did last longer than at least one of them. Sal barely lasted two weeks under the man’s command before he got himself fired. Honestly, Tommy couldn’t even blame Bobby for firing Sal. Deluca was the type of guy who knew everyone else’s buttons and took far too much joy in pressing them. What did he expect would happen when he blatantly disrespected their boss? 

While he knew Hen had been making more of an effort to try to get to know their captain, he hadn’t expected the man to show up to O’Grady’s for a drink with the rest of them. 

“I'm telling you, single is easier,” Tommy explained to them as he took a sip of his beer. “Having the scars impresses women, getting 'em freaks 'em out.”

While Tommy didn’t actually have much experience on women’s thoughts on scars, he had certainly been with a few guys who weren’t fans of the idea that he faced death every single day. 

Hen shot him a knowing look but just like every other time Tommy had lied about having a girlfriend or making comments about women, she stayed quiet. It wasn’t that Tommy really thought she’d tell someone, and if she did it would probably be Howie, but he still wasn’t ready for anyone else to know, especially their captain. He didn’t seem like Gerrard so fair, but Tommy had learned the hard way that some people were the quiet type of homophobes. 

“Well, listen, I still get decent mileage out of this one,” Hen said, pulling up her pant leg to show off her scar.  “That house fire, down in Venice, last year.”

Tommy stood up and pulled his shirt up to show them the scar that decorated his upper rib-cage. “Factory explosion. Caught a piece of shrapnel this big.”

He held his fingers apart to show them how big the piece was which - in Tommy’s humble opinion - had hurt like a bitch when it hit him. It was really his only big scar he’d received from firefighting. He had other ones, of course, but they were smaller, or had been received in Afghanistan. 

And then there were the ones he’d received at the hands of his father, but he didn’t talk about those. Not with anyone. 

“I don't know. I am thus far unscarred and I fully intend to remain that way,” Howie insisted and Tommy just shook his head at the man. If you stayed in this job long enough, there was no way you wouldn’t get a scar in some way or another. “Besides, I find this whole ritual a pale insult to the great Robert Shaw.”  

“What about you, Cap?” Tommy asked Bobby after he and Howie had taken yet another shot. 

“All right,” the man conceded as he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and twisted around so they could see the scar on his shoulder. “Four-alarm blaze at an outlet mall, electrical burn from a live junction box. Source of the fire, as it turned out.”

As it turned out, firefighting in St. Paul actually did consist of more than just salting the roads and rescuing cats from trees. 

 “I don't want to die without any scars,” Tommy joked, getting a laugh from Howie and a confused look from Hen. “Tyler Durden? Fight Club.”

Hen continued staring at him blankly and Tommy just sighed. He and Howie had tried to save Hen from the pop-culture rock she lived under, but he was convinced they were too late. There was simply no saving her. 

~~~

Tommy had to give credit where credit was due. Despite his original hesitations about the man, Bobby Nash proved to be just what the 118 needed. The station felt lighter with Bobby around, which in turn made everyone happier. 

Well, everyone but Tommy. 

Not that it had anything to do with Bobby but Tommy just felt like he didn’t fit in at the 118 anymore. With Sal gone, he was constantly third-wheeling Hen and Howie and he knew no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be as close to them as they were to each other. It was partially his own fault, given he was never honest with them, but lying about his life had been much easier with Gerrard around. Gerrard being a homophobic asshole had given Tommy an excuse, a reason not to come out, but with Bobby around? Tommy didn’t have a single logical explanation for not telling them the truth. 

A few weeks later, with the encouragement of Natalie, he broke things off with Theo. Thankfully, the man wasn’t too upset with him. After all, they’d both known their relationship wasn’t permanent, and he understood that Tommy needed to move forward with his life. 

While Tommy had loved Theo - it was sort of impossible not too after being with the man for three years - he’d been careful not to get too attached. He cared for the man, sure, but he wasn’t in love with him, he wasn’t the love of Tommy’s life. Saying goodbye was bittersweet, but necessary. 

At the same time, he submitted an application to transfer over to LAFD Air Operations. It had been ten years since he’d flown in a chopper and yet he still longed for the chance to be a pilot again, to experience the freedom he’d only ever felt in the skies. It would be a while before he heard back, and even longer before he could be transferred, but it was the first step in what felt like one of the best decisions he’d made in years.

Chapter Text

2015

Tommy had been looking forward to Thanksgiving more than usual that year, since it meant getting to check in on Asher. He’d only managed to get up to Palo Alto once since Asher had moved in with Theresa and Marc, and that had been back in the middle of September. 

“Did you grow?” Tommy asked after hugging his little brother, holding him out at arm’s length to check him over. 

It was a relief to see how much better Asher seemed to be doing. While Tommy talked to him often, and also got updates from his mom and Marc, it was easier to believe it when the kid was right in front of him. Asher had put on some needed weight, making him a little less gaunt than before, and his eyes shone with happiness rather than the exhaustion and worry Tommy was used to seeing. He’d been seeing a therapist ever since he moved to Palo Alto, and had apparently made a good group of friends at school. All in all, the move seemed to be going well, and his mom and Marc hadn’t said anything to the contrary. 

“Two inches,” Marc called from the kitchen, causing Asher to blush a bit, the tips of his ears turning red the way Luca’s always did when he was younger. 

“A bit,” Asher confirmed as Tommy wrapped an arm around his shoulders and steered them towards the kitchen.

“You’re late,” Celia remarked from her seat at the kitchen counter where she was supervising Marc putting the finishing touches on dinner. 

“No one else is here,” Tommy retorted, grabbing a beer from the fridge. 

As always, Tommy’s mom was spending the morning volunteering at a soup kitchen, leaving Marc and Tommy to handle the cooking. Celia was supposed to help, but she usually just ordered them around. He wasn’t sure where the rest of his siblings had disappeared to though. 

“Bea and Will’s flight from Chicago got delayed and Luca and Samantha are stuck in traffic,” Celia explained. 

Luca and Samantha had flown out to California early for the holiday since Samantha’s family lived up in Sacramento and it would be their last Thanksgiving with both families before the baby came. 

“Chop these up for me, Ash?” Marc asked as he stirred a pot of what looked like cranberry sauce, nodding over to some potatoes on a cutting board. 

Tommy winced as Asher pulled a giant blade from the knife block before starting to cube the potatoes to be boiled. 

“Try not to amputate a hand with that thing,” he reminded his little brother. 

Tommy had worked way too many Thanksgiving shifts and knew by now that even the most skilled chefs somehow ended up injuring themselves horribly in the kitchen on the holiday. 

“While I guess it’s a good thing we have an EMT here then,” Asher shot back.  

“Bea could probably stitch him up anyways,” Celia added. “He’s no different than a golden retriever.”

Bea had graduated vet school that year, but Tommy highly doubted his sister carried around a suture kit. 

Celia’s phone buzzed on the counter and she looked down at it before quickly typing out a reply. 

“Luca and Samantha are almost here,” she announced. 

They all noticed the way Asher frowned slightly and Tommy bit back a sigh. Asher had never even met Luca, but he already knew his other older brother was not a fan of his. Tommy was frankly just praying that Luca would behave himself, but the odds of that were only 50/50. 

“It’ll be fine, bambino,” Marc assured him. “Luca’s bark is worse than his bite.”

“Can we quit it with the bambino thing?” Asher whined, reminding Tommy of the way he had similarly protested such a nickname from his mother at 16. 

Spotting the opportunity for a distraction from Luca, Tommy took it. 

“We could always call you puffo instead,” he deadpanned. 

“What’s puffo?” Asher asked, tilting his head a little. 

“Smurf,” Celia answered with a snort as she took a sip of her wine. 

The glare he got from Asher in response was totally worth it. 

~~~

Dinner had been going pleasantly well. Luca had been nice enough to Asher, although Tommy suspected he was doing so under threats from both their mom and Samantha, and they managed to get through all of the cooking without a drop of blood being shed. 

All in all, it was one of the best Thanksgivings Tommy had had in years. 

Or it was, at least until Luca picked up his phone. 

He hadn’t even noticed it’d been buzzing until Luca picked it up off the kitchen counter on his way back from getting another serving. 

“Who’s Natalie?” he asked in a teasing tone as he passed Tommy his phone. “Finally getting back in the game, huh?”

It was a text from Natalie, asking if they could reschedule on Tuesday. While Tommy knew it was about his appointment, to anyone else, it could’ve looked like they were talking about a date. He shifted a little in his seat, sparing a glance over at Asher who was the only one who knew who Natalie really was. 

The way he saw it, his only options were to tell the truth or lie and pretend he had a girlfriend, something he had moved on from doing years ago. 

“Uh, no, actually,” he explained somewhat awkwardly. “Natalie’s my therapist.”

That statement of course got everyone’s attention, and the rest of the conversations around the dinner table fell silent. 

“You’ve been seeing a therapist?” Bea asked, blue eyes filled with concern as she looked at him. 

It wasn’t like he had ever tried to hide the fact that he was seeing a therapist, he just felt it wasn’t something that needed to be broadcasted to the whole family. 

“Mhm,” he confirmed as he took another bite of his meal, staring down at the plate to avoid seeing everyone else’s reactions. Luca, surprisingly, was completely silent about the matter. 

“Is this a recent thing or…” Celia trailed off.

“I guess it’s been a few years now,” he replied with a shrug. 

Marc thankfully managed to realize that Tommy wasn’t a huge fan of the conversation and quickly shifted topics by asking Will how he was liking his new job. Tommy let out a sigh of relief once all the attention was off of him and prayed it would stay that way. 

Oh, how wrong he was. 

It took about 15 minutes, but soon enough, Luca had circled back to the topic of Tommy’s love life. 

“So you’re obviously not dating the therapist, but when are you going to bring a girl home?” Luca pressed, a smirk on his face. 

It was a common question from his brother, but Tommy wasn’t sure why it rubbed against him so much more than it used to. 

“Luca,” their mom warned carefully. 

“I’m just asking,” Luca held up his hands defensively. “I mean, seriously, how long has it been?”

“Luca, don’t be a dick,” Celia retorted. 

“At this rate Asher’s gonna get married before him–”

“Just because you spent your twenties hooking up with every girl at Tulane–”

“A date or two wouldn’t hurt him–” 

As Tommy listened to his siblings argue, he just couldn’t take it anymore. It was only getting harder to lie as the years went by. Luca would always ask, and even Bea and his mom had mentioned the topic once or twice, although far more gently than his brother. He didn’t want to have to worry every time he was out with a date that he’d get seen by someone he knew. Theo had been the closest thing he’d ever had to a relationship, and even that had left him wanting something more . So, before he even knew what he was doing, the words just slipped out. 

“Never.”

His siblings went quiet and everyone looked at him in confusion. As usual, Luca was the first one to recover and work up the courage to ask for clarification. 

“What?” his brother asked, clearly confused. 

“I’m never bringing a girl home,” Tommy stated clearly, his voice steady unlike his racing, thready heartbeat. “Not next year, or the year after that, or the one after that. Never.”

“But–” Luca tried to intervene while Asher watched Tommy with wide eyes, as if he’d already come to the realization of what Tommy was about to say. 

“I’m gay, Luca,” Tommy interrupted sharply, the words simply pouring out of him before he could stop them. “Homosexual. As in I like fucking men. I fucked Nate Campbell actually, you remember him? My dead best friend. Well, friends with benefits actually, but you get the point. And I–” 

He stopped, suddenly unable to form any more words. A quick glance around the table let him see everyone else looking at him in various states of shock, all completely silent. The lack of noise was oppressive, like a weight on his chest that was making it impossible to breathe. Eventually, he just could take it anymore. He quickly tossed his napkin onto the table and pushed his chair back, wincing at the screech of the chair legs against the wood floor before booking it out of the house. 

What the fuck had he been thinking? Why on Earth had he suddenly decided that now was a good time to tell them all? He’d always expected them to react badly and nothing had changed recently to suggest otherwise. There was a tight feeling in his chest that had him gasping for air as he made his way towards the truck, refusing to stop and look back at the house. 

He’d ruined everything, just like always. They were going to hate him now, or at least his mom and Luca would, probably Marc too, and the girls would just side with them. Asher would have to as well, seeing as how he still lived with them. He should’ve just let Luca keep on teasing him. That would’ve been better than the alternative. At least he’d made it outside before the rest of them could say anything. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take screaming from his mom, or a disappointed, disgusted look from Celia. 

Maybe he deserved it, being alone. Perhaps it was his punishment for everything he’d done. For killing people in Afghanistan, or treating his family like shit when he got home. The truth was, he’d never deserved them. With the exception of Tommy, the rest of them had always been such a perfect little family. His mom and Marc were the perfect couple with their beautiful, successful children who had all gone to top-tier schools. Luca was already married with a kid on the way and Bea would follow suit sooner rather than later. 

And then there was Tommy. The screw-up. He had tried to fix himself, to glue back the pieces that had broken apart so long ago, but it was impossible. There was no fixing him.

Perhaps it was simply a lesson from the universe. But Tommy was tired of learning from his pain.

He fumbled in his pocket for his keys, eyes burning with tears as a wave of grief crashed over him. 

Tommy was no stranger to grief or loss. It was the pain of having a father who never held an ounce of love for him, who taught his lessons with his fists rather than his words. It was the death of a man who had shown him another way to love, a man that was taken from the world far too soon. It was all his friendships that broke under the strain of his lies, like a fraying rope finally snapping from too much tension. 

And now, this. 

He had lost his siblings, the people who had always been his purpose in life. The ones who were a shining beacon to help him fumble through the darkness, who made him laugh even when he felt like crying, who gave him something to fight for when he couldn’t fight for himself. They were gone, and he had no one to blame but himself. 

Suddenly, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed through the quiet yard. 

“Tommy!” a voice Tommy knew better than his own shouted, one he couldn’t have ignored to save his life. “Tommy, wait!”

He could hear the clap of shoes against the brick walkway as Celia darted towards him but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her, too terrified to see her reaction. Just as he managed to finally get the door to his truck open, Celia barreled into him, her body slamming the door shut as she grabbed his arm and tried to tug him away from the car. 

“Come back inside,” she begged as Tommy simply shook his head. “Please, Tommy, please . Just come back inside.”

“I can’t,” he choked the words out, staring down at the gravel driveway. 

And then there were two hands bracketing either side of his face, gentle but firm, forcing him to look up to meet his sister’s sharp emerald eyes. He had expected to see resentment, or judgment, or perhaps even hatred. He had expected to look at his baby sister and see his father’s eyes looking back at him. But all he was met with was a look of… love. 

“I love you, Maso. We love you,” Celia told him, sounding as sure of that fact as she was that the sky was blue. “Please don’t go.”

Since the second she’d been born, Celia had had Tommy wrapped around her little finger. He’d never been able to deny her anything, not once. But this time, he just couldn’t do it. 

“I can’t, Ce,” he replied, his voice shaking just as much as his hands were. 

Because if Tommy had been forced to pick one family member who he knew would remain loyal to him, who would stay by his side and love him no matter what, it’d be Celia. She’d never cared about his faults, or been disappointed in him. To Celia, he was always just her big brother and nothing could change that. The rest of his family, however, were a different story. 

Celia swiped a tear from his face that Tommy hadn’t even noticed falling, and continued to whisper out pleas for him to stay. Every single ask was like a knife to his heart because he wanted to say yes. He wanted to stay. He wanted his family. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Celia swore. “I promise, it doesn’t. Just stay, okay?”

But what if they didn’t want him?

It wasn’t until he heard the crunch of gravel beneath someone’s feet that he noticed anyone else had come outside. 

“Your dinner’s getting cold,” Marc remarked as he stood a few feet away, hands shoved into his pockets and looking as casual as if they were discussing the weather. “Reese’s probably going to start fussing about that once she’s done washing Luca’s mouth out with soap.”

Celia snorted a laugh, although it sounded slightly congested through her tears. Slowly, Tommy managed to work up the courage to look over at his stepfather to find the man looking at him and Celia with the same fond expression as always. 

Before he could pull himself together enough to fight her on it, Celia had grabbed his hand and yanked him back towards the house, only dropping it when they reached Marc. 

“You okay?” his stepfather asked him, midnight blue eyes looking at him with nothing but concern. 

Celia had already forged ahead while Tommy stayed behind with Marc, walking toward the house with all the enthusiasm of a prisoner on death row. No one seemed too upset right now, but what if they changed their minds? Tommy couldn’t handle that false hope, he couldn’t handle getting to keep his family only to have them snatched away. 

“Luca–” Tommy started, already nervous about what his brother was going to say once he got inside. 

“Luca isn’t going to say anything,” Marc interrupted, putting an arm around Tommy’s shoulders and tugging him a bit closer. “And if he does, then you leave that to your mother and me.” 

Tommy nodded, not quite believing the man but not having the energy to argue either. As they climbed the steps to the porch and reached the front door, Marc turned to look at him, pausing with one hand on the door knob. 

“You know I love you, right kid?” he asked, tiling his head a little. 

And the man said it with such certainty that somehow - despite everything - Tommy couldn’t help but believe him. 

Chapter Text

2016

Tommy slowly walked down the quiet hallway, this particular wing of the hospital being unfamiliar to him. He passed a few nurses but for the most part, the hallway was empty, which wasn’t surprising considering it was well past midnight. Finally, about halfway down the hallway, he spotted his brother standing in front of a large window.

Luca didn’t notice his approach until Tommy was almost shoulder to shoulder with him, having been too focused on the baby lying in the nursery on the other side of the glass. Tommy cleared his throat softly when he arrived at his brother’s side, unsure of what else to say to announce his presence. He and Luca hadn’t spoken since Thanksgiving, not since Tommy’s… revelation. 

His mom and Marc had been nothing but supportive, as had Celia and Bea, but Luca had and always would be a wild card to Tommy when it came to his reactions. There had been nothing but radio silence from his brother in the weeks since then, which wasn’t completely unusual, and Tommy knew silence was a far better alternative to some responses. 

Luca startled slightly, clearly having not noticed him, but turned to him with something that looked surprisingly like a smile. If that hadn’t been shocking enough, his brother then pulled him into a hug, holding Tommy tighter than he had in years. Once Luca released him, he was able to get a better look at his brother’s face, noting that despite how tired he looked and the unruliness of his hair - like Tommy, Luca tended to run his hands through his hair when he was stressed - that his brother looked happy, lighter than he had in years, like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. 

“Thanks for coming,” Luca said, words sounding nothing but sincere as he pulled away slightly, although he left one hand on Tommy’s shoulder. 

“Of course,” Tommy replied, the response slipping easily from his lips. 

Because even if Luca did hate him, even if he had said the most vile things in the world to Tommy, there remained the undeniable truth that if Tommy’s siblings ever needed him, he would be there without a second of hesitation. 

“So, what do you think of your nephew?” Luca asked, turning Tommy slightly so he could follow Luca’s line of sight to the right baby. 

He was lying in a bassinet, swaddled tightly but without a hat, revealing red downy hair a few shades lighter than Luca’s own dark auburn, reminding Tommy of how Luca’s curls had been when they were younger. He was tiny, far smaller than Tommy remembered babies being, but then again, it had been a while since he’d spent time around any. His eyes were closed, but Tommy suspected they’d be the same gray-blue as most newborns and would remain so until they shifted to match Luca’s green eyes or Samantha’s brown ones. 

“He’s cute,” Tommy answered, slightly surprised when he had to swallow past a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. “Must get that from Samantha.”

Luca let out a laugh and Tommy startled a little, the noise being almost unfamiliar. It had been so long since he’d heard Luca laugh like that, let alone since he’d been the cause of such laughter. The sound was bright and clear, so unlike the bitter sound he usually made. 

“Let’s just hope he continues to take after his mom,” Luca quipped, looking at his son with a softer expression than Tommy had ever seen on his brother’s face.

“You guys pick a name yet?” Tommy asked, tearing his eyes away from his nephew to look back at Luca. 

“Nicholas,” Luca told him, the name coming out of his mouth as soft as a prayer. “Nico.”

Tommy had been expecting his brother to choose something a little sharper, something firm and unwavering, like James or Charles, but Nico was better than anything he had guessed. 

“Mom will like it,” Tommy noted, knowing his mother had been dropping hints to Luca and Samantha to pick something Italian. He’d barely seen his nephew for five minutes, but already he knew the little boy would have Theresa wrapped around his tiny finger. 

Nicholas Andrew Kinard had made his way into the world on a freezing cold Saturday in January, four weeks early and weighing an even six pounds. In typical Kinard fashion, he arrived with a bang and came loudly and quickly. Samantha had barely been in labor for three hours by the time Tommy’s nephew made his entrance. It had been so fast that Tommy was the first one to make it to the hospital, since everyone else had to fly into town.  

Luca simply nodded, unwilling to take too much of his attention away from his son to participate in conversation. 

“I’ve been seeing someone,” Luca blurted suddenly after a moment, breaking their silence. 

The confession caught Tommy off-guard and a sarcastic remark slipped free of his mouth before he could even think to stop himself. 

“And how does your wife feel about that?” he deadpanned, still attempting to understand Luca’s words. 

Despite the fact that Luca could be a grade A asshole to his siblings, Tommy knew there was no chance in hell Luca would ever even dream of cheating on Samantha. He’d never seen his brother happier than he was with his wife, and there was no possibility that he’d ever find someone better than her. Samantha was way out of his league to begin with. 

Luca rolled his eyes at Tommy’s joke, confirming he hadn’t had a complete personality transplant upon becoming a father. 

“Professionally, I mean,” Luca explained slowly, seemingly struggling to find the words. It wasn’t often that Tommy heard his brother sound anything except completely confident and the slight stammer and nervousness in Luca’s voice was odd to hear. “A psychologist.”

“Oh.”

It certainly wasn’t the best reaction he could have had, but Tommy was too surprised to say anything else. Luca had never been the type of person to talk about his feelings, especially not with a stranger. Plus, out of all the Kinard siblings, Luca had always been the one who had his life together. He was the impressive one, the dependable one, the hotshot lawyer with a lovely wife, the son who their mother bragged about. Being fucked up in the head was Tommy’s job. 

“I…” Luca paused, glancing at Tommy with a guilty expression before shifting his eyes to the floor. “I don’t think I ever really got over what happened. With… with him. I just kept hoping it would go away, but it never did.”

Tommy stayed silent, letting his brother say what he needed to say, but inched just a bit closer, hoping to provide a little comfort. 

“It just got worse,” Luca continued, pausing as he frowned before shaking his head, as if correcting himself. “It made me worse. And honestly, sometimes it scares me, how much I’m like him.”

It was the painful truth, that out of all of them, Luca was the most like their father. While the memory of Patrick Kinard’s face had blurred around the edges over the years in Tommy’s mind, he had no doubt that in another decade or so, Luca would be a mirror image of the way Tommy remembered their father. Luca’s nose wasn’t crooked like Patrick’s - he’d broken it in a bar fight once - his green eyes never held the same meanness, and his hair was just a touch more red, but beyond that, Luca was every inch their father. And yet, Tommy knew it wasn’t the way he resembled their father physically that scared Luca. 

It was the way his mannerisms resembled that of Patrick’s that truly terrified Tommy’s brother. The way his fuse was just an inch too short, how he could spout out a barbed insult without any effort, the excess of confidence and pride that oozed out of him. That was what scared Luca, and rightfully so. In the right man, one conscious of his actions, there was no real threat. Sure, it resulted in a few fights now and again, a few hurtful words, but there was no true harm done. In the wrong man though, it could turn him from man to monster. Just like their father. 

“I want to be better,” Luca told him, his voice full of unwavering determination. “For Nico. I need to be.”

The fear in his little brother’s eyes couldn’t help but remind Tommy of the past, of times when they had been closer, less guarded with each other, and he cautiously pulled Luca closer, wrapping him in a sideways embrace. 

“You already are,” Tommy promised him. If he was like their father, Luca wouldn’t have had a care in the world about how he’d be as a dad. 

Luca swallowed heavily, nodding slightly to Tommy’s words as he looked through the glass at his son. 

Tommy couldn’t help but smile softly as he watched Luca stare at the baby in amazement, ignoring the slight twinge in his own chest. Thanks to Natalie, Tommy had enough self-awareness to recognize exactly what that feeling was. 

Jealousy. 

It wasn’t right, or fair, but despite how hard he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t pretend the feeling wasn’t there. As happy as he was for Luca, Tommy couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he might never have what his brother did. A partner. A child. A family. He was only 32 to Luca’s 30, but he wasn’t even dating someone, let alone ready to have a kid. And while it had taken years, he was finally beginning to feel like he was ready. Ready to find someone, to settle down, to have someone to go home to at the end of the day. He just didn’t know how to find that someone. 

Maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for him. Maybe Tommy had made his choice the day he signed up for the army. He chose Luca, Bea, and Celia. Tommy let them have the lives they wanted while he sacrificed his future, all in an attempt to make sure his siblings were happy. It had paid off, thankfully. Luca had a family, Bea was engaged, and Celia would undoubtedly do anything she wanted to, as would Asher. 

So, if being alone for the rest of his life was the price Tommy had to pay for his siblings to be happy, then he could live with that. He could shove away the tiny sparks of jealousy and be satisfied in his role as a brother instead of a husband, in an uncle instead of a father. 

“Hey Luca?” he murmured softly, not wanting to break the peaceful state his younger brother had found himself in. 

“Yeah?”

“What’s it like being a dad?” Tommy asked quietly, feeling a bizarre need to know. 

If he could never be one himself, at least Luca could explain to him what he was missing. 

“It’s…” Luca paused, tilting his head a little. “It’s nothing like I thought it’d be.”

Tommy nodded silently, trying to understand what his brother meant as best as he could. 

“Do you think he ever felt this way about us?” Luca asked softly, sounding oddly young in that moment, as if he were a little boy again who looked at his big brother like he held the answers to the universe. “Because I look at Nico, and I know I could never –”

Luca’s voice cracked a little and Tommy did his brother the kindness of looking away as Luca blinked a bit of wetness out of his eyes, knowing there was little more Luca hated than people seeing him cry. 

“I could never do what he did to us,” Luca stated firmly after clearing his throat, his tone leaving absolutely no doubt in Tommy’s mind of his love for his son. “Not ever.”

In a perfect world, in a perfect life, Patrick Kinard would have loved his children the same way Luca loved Nico. He would have been willing to do anything and everything for them, to lay down his life to spare them from the smallest bit of pain. They would have been his whole world, the only thing that mattered to him. Nico was Luca’s everything, just like they should have been Patrick’s .

But they didn’t live in a perfect universe. They lived in an unfair world that was just as often cruel and unkind. The Kinard children had simply been dealt a bad hand in life, and there was nothing any of them could do to change that. 

“I don’t think he was capable of it,” Tommy answered after a bit, knowing his brother needed some sort of answer, some bit of closure. While Luca’s therapist had surely told him something similar, Tommy knew that it took far more than a few appointments to heal the scars left by their father. “Not of love. Maybe he thought he did but… we never mattered. Not to him.” 

It had been almost 15 years since any of them had seen their father and yet Patrick Kinard still had the infuriating ability to haunt them like a ghost, his absence causing nearly as much pain as his presence had. Tommy used to think their father held just a bit of compassion for them, had used to hope that he loved them, in his own way, but he knew that wasn’t anywhere close to the truth. 

It stung, honestly, how much their father could continue to cause them so much hurt. Why did someone who had never done one single thing for them get to take so much away from them?

“I’ve… I’ve realized I haven’t been a very good brother recently,” Luca confessed. “And if I made you feel like you couldn’t tell us the truth about who you are, if I made you feel like he used to– then I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay-” Tommy tried to tell him, but Luca cut him off. 

“It’s not,” Luca told him firmly, sharp green eyes boring straight into his own in a way that left absolutely no room for argument. “If you want to forgive me, then that’s fine. But don’t ever say it was okay that I made you feel like that. Because it’s not, and you’ll never know how sorry I am for it.”

It was rare for Luca to be so forthcoming with his feelings, but one benefit of that was that when he was, you could always trust that he meant every single word he said. Tommy’s head was spinning from the complete turnaround they’d done, from walking into the hospital thinking his brother had possibly hated him to now this, but he didn’t mind it. Not one single bit. So, when Luca pulled him into another tight hug, this one a far longer embrace than their previous ones, there was nothing Tommy could do except lean into it, allowing Luca to tuck his chin over his shoulder as he held his little brother closer. 

“I love you, Maso,” Luca murmured, his words soft and meant solely for Tommy’s ears. 

It was the first time in almost twenty years that Tommy had heard his family’s loving nickname for him cross his brother’s lips and for some reason, it gave Tommy hope. He’d never thought he and Luca would be able to fix things between them but maybe, piece by piece, they could stitch their relationship back together again and repair the hole their father had left behind. 

~~~

“You’re a traitor,” Howie complained, faking a few tears. “A deserter.”

“I’m not even leaving LA,” Tommy argued.

“We’ve never felt so betrayed in our lives. Right, Hen?” Howie shot back, looking to his partner for support. 

His transfer request to the 217 Air Operations had finally been approved at the start of February and although Tommy knew it was the right move for him, leaving the 118 was still a little bittersweet. He’d been at the station for almost ten years, had started there as a probie and learned everything he knew, but it was time for him to move on. Tommy had never been able to be himself under Gerrard’s leadership, and while Captain Nash was far better than their old captain, Tommy still felt like he couldn’t be the real version of himself while at the station. 

He’d spent the past few weeks leading up to his last day at the 118 hoping and praying that the 217 would be more accepting. Or, at the least, not openly homophobic. And even if the crew did end up being awful, there would still be one benefit that Tommy couldn’t get at the 118. 

Flying. 

“You know, Chim, there is such a thing as being supportive,” Hen reminded Howie, sounding exasperated. 

“How am I supposed to be supportive of him abandoning us?!” Howie exclaimed, gesturing wildly towards Tommy. 

Hen rolled her eyes affectionately at Howie’s antics, and Tommy found himself realizing with a sharp pang how much he’d really miss them. While he’d gotten off to a rocky start with both of them - which was his own fault - they’d gotten closer over the years. Closer to friends than coworkers, but not nearly as close with either of them as they were with each other. 

Still, it was nice having friends, or something close to it. It was something he hadn’t had in a long time. 

Once Howie had finished with his rant about the unfairness of it all, he headed off in search of more drinks from the bar, leaving Tommy alone with Hen. 

For some reason, Tommy had never been quite sure what Hen thought about him. Sometimes, it seemed like she was only one step away from hating him and other times, she seemed to practically love him. She had planned his going away party, but maybe she was just happy about him leaving? On the bright side, at least the cake had been good, even if he did have his face smashed into it. 

“Think he’ll ever get over it?” Tommy quipped to Hen, knowing how long Howie’s grudges could last. 

Hen tilted her head slightly, regarding him carefully instead of responding with a joke like he had expected. He shifted somewhat nervously, used to the way Hen always seemed to catch him off guard. 

“Are you sure about this?” she asked eventually, her eyes saying everything her words weren’t. 

After Tommy had told Hen about Nate, they’d never discussed the subject again. Not once in two years. Although he appreciated her discretion, Tommy found himself wanting to know her thoughts about it. About whether or not she thought he was simply trading one prison for another, and an unknown one at that. But he had to do it. He couldn’t stay, not anymore. 

“I’m sure,” Tommy said firmly, holding her gaze for a moment. 

She reached out and squeezed his hand, leaving him somewhat startled by the unusual display of affection between the two of them. 

“Then we’re happy for you,” she promised him sincerely, before continuing in a more joking tone. “And Chim will be over it by the time he wakes up with a hangover tomorrow.”

Tommy snorted a laugh at her statement, only laughing harder when Howie suddenly reappeared, a round of shots in hand. 

~~~

It was a picture-perfect day the first time Tommy got into the pilot’s seat of a chopper in almost ten years. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, just an endless stripe of bright, brilliant blue. His hands had shaken a little during takeoff, but once he’d gotten up into the sky, all his worries had been forgotten. He’d almost forgotten how peaceful it was. How you could feel absolutely untouchable when you were tucked away in the sky, far from anything or anyone. 

“Pretty fucking great, right?” his partner asked from the seat beside him. 

Cassandra Gallagher was seven years younger than Tommy, had a morbid sense of humor, and as far as Tommy had been able to tell, took absolutely no shit from anyone. 

Tommy liked her instantly. 

While she was slightly chaotic at the station, the second they were on the job, she was nothing but calm and capable. She’d been working at the 127 for five years, ever since she was a probie, and had been assigned the job of showing Tommy the ropes since her last partner had been transferred. Judging by the way no one talked about the guy, Tommy figured he hadn’t left on the best of terms. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s pretty great,” Tommy agreed, a grin spreading easily across his face. 

Flying again, it made Tommy feel…

Free

the thing I came for:
the wreck and not the story of the wreck
the thing itself and not the myth
the drowned face always staring
toward the sun
the evidence of damage
worn by salt and sway into this threadbare beauty
the ribs of the disaster
curving their assertion
among the tentative haunters.