Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Buck’s POV

Buck hadn’t set foot in Oahu in over 10 years, but as he steps off the charter boat and feels the sun on his skin and smells the salt from the water in the air- he doesn’t know why he even left. Stepping onto the platform, duffel slung low on one shoulder, he takes a moment to just take in his surroundings. The sun was bright and burning, yet too soft. Nothing could ever compare to the burning feeling in his leg as the ladder truck was lifted off of it. Nothing here would ever hit as hard as Los Angeles.

Not after the bombing.

Not after Eddie’s fist connected with his jaw and the silence and emptiness that followed, draping over him like a curtain- or more accurately a tsunami slamming him into the concrete. Fast, unexpected, and oh- so harsh.

And so he left. 

Packed everything he needed and sold the rest. Left detailed instructions to Maddie for her to sell the loft and for nostalgia's sake an L.A. postcard telling her he loved her and a number of an old friend in case of emergencies. He knew she would understand- as a Buckley, when things get bad you pack up and start over.

Buck wasn’t running, not really.

 He just needed to start over. 

Somewhere Eddie couldn’t find him. Somewhere the 118 wouldn’t be to ask why he flinched every time someone slammed a locker door too hard or moved their hands too quickly.

Oahu was the first place to come to mind.

Buck honestly had no plan beyond a cheap- or as cheap as you could get in Hawaii motel room, and a drink strong enough to drown his problems.

Suddenly a burst of movement out the corner of his eye caught his attention, it looked to be the tail end of a takedown taking place not too far from him on the pier- a blur of fast movement, two men in what looks like civilian clothes with badges clipped to their belts pinning what buck assumes is a suspect hard to the wood and concrete of the pier- and then he hears it. A voice barking orders so full of command, it immediately triggered a memory buck had buried deep within himself- full of a dry heat, sand that you couldn’t escape, and the scent of blood so thick it choked you.

“Drop the weapon! Now!” 

The voice cut clean through the noise, sharp and commanding snapping him out of his unwanted memories.  

Buck turned his head slowly as if giving himself time to process.

There he was. 

Steve McGarrett.

Still looking every inch the SEAL he used to be - broad shoulders, coiled tension in every line of his body, eyes scanning his surroundings searching for any threats.

Buck didn’t move at first.

Just watched.

There was the briefest pause- McGarrett finishing the takedown, then looking up like he felt Buck’s stare. His eyes met met Buck’s across the pier.

Recognition flared in his eyes. Barely a twitch of expression. But enough for Buck to catch it- a small narrowing of the eyes, like he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real.

Then Steve’s posture adjusted.

 Nothing obvious.

Just a shift. Looser, like he’d eased out of command without thinking. Like instinct had kicked in before logic did.

Buck gave a barely there nod to him.

Not a really a greeting just an acknowledgement. 

Steve didn’t return it, but he didn’t look away either.

Buck pulled out his phone and turned away, the exchange already being shoved deep into the back of his mind. But the weight of it lingered leaving his chest feeing strangely tight while simultaneously pounding and screaming in the back of his mind.

Steve’s POV

Steve watched the man until he was out of sight and was lost in the crowd.

Buck.

He hadn’t heard that name- hadn’t thought of that name- in years. Had forced himself to forget it due to the circumstances.  And yet the moment their eyes met, it had all slammed back into him with the same intensity as a bullet to the chest.

He didn’t even know Buck was still alive. Hadn’t seen nor heard from him in years .

“Steve.”

Chin’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, a hand clapping lightly on his shoulder bringing him fully to the present. They distractedly watched as their suspect was hauled up and cuffed. 

“You good?” Chin asked, following his line of sight as it drifted back to where he had last seen Buck.

Steve hesitated a second too long. Long enough for Chin to notice because of course he did.

“Who was that?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve lied easily. Then at Chin’s deadpan stare- he corrected himself: “I think I knew him. From,” Steve pauses and sighs “from a long time ago.

Chin raises an eyebrow. 

“Military?”

Steve didn’t answer, just clenched his jaw and started walking back toward the Camaro. He could feel Chin falling into step beside him, silent for a beat, waiting him out.

By the time they reached the car, Steve finally spoke. 

“Can you do something for me?” 

Chin shot him a sidelong glance for a second before he spoke, “Of course.”

“There was a guy at the edge of the pier. He's Tall- Taller than me probably 6'4 or 6'5, curly dirty blond hair, has a pink birthmark over his eye - which are blue. Looked to be wearing worn-down black combat boots, light blue shirt, and black tactical pants. Tends to have a more rigid stance. 

“That’s… weirdly specific.” Chin side eyed him for a second. 

Steve paused at the driver’s side door. His hand rested on the handle but didn’t open it. 

“His name’s Buck. Evan Buckley. I don’t know if he’s going by that name anymore. But he shouldn’t be here, last I heard he shouldn't be anywhere.

Now Chin was fully staring. “You wanna tell me what that means?”

Steve shook his head.

“Not until I'm sure it’s him. Just look him up. Quietly. Please.”

Chin didn’t press he nodded once. Giving him another quick side eye then got into the car.

Steve stayed standing a second longer, watching the waves roll in and feeling something cold start to coil under his ribs.

Because if that was Buck?

Then Steve had been lied to and if he was lied to about Buck... There would be hell to pay.

Because there had never been a man Steve respected more and understood less.

And he would not lose him a second time if it really was him.

Chin Ho POV

Chin stood in front of the massive touchscreen table in the Five-0 headquarters, fingers tapping quick commands across the glowing surface. The image of Buck’s face hovered in a floating file window above the digital seal of the LAFD.  

EVAN BUCKLEY

LAFD - Station 118 - Los Angeles 

Firefighter/EMT 

Multiple commendations 

Medal of Valor recipient 

Chin swiped sideways. Several local news segments loaded into the feed- clips- some obviously taken by phone playing silently unless tapped. One showed Buck pulling a child from a burning apartment, arms of his uniform blackened with soot. Another had him carrying a man twice his size over his shoulder, moving like he couldn’t feel the other man’s weight, not even breaking a sweat.

Then Chin paused, eye catching on a longer segment labeled:

“Off-Duty Firefighter Saves Dozens During Tsunami”

He tapped it.

The screen bloomed into footage: Buck. Soaked, bloodied with three long gashes from eyebrow to jawline, and grim faced. Chest heaving as he reached a battered fire engine parked across the street from the pier that had a few people already on it while carrying what looked like a woman on his back. The waves surged all around it but Buck’s swimming didn’t falter even under the added weight of the woman on his back. The water rushed violently, filled with bodies and debris, and almost breaching the windows- but the fire engine held firm, only swaying slightly as the worst of the waves struck. A thick bench slammed into the side but bounced off.

The reporter’s voice played over the footage: 

Off-duty firefighter Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley had been on the Santa Monica pier with his partner’s young son when the tsunami hit. Witnesses say Buck carried the boy to abandoned fire engine just before the wave hit- all while shouting for people to get off the pier and to safety.” 

The video shifted to bystander phone footage- Buck hoisting himself and someone else onto the fire engine where a boy can be seen sitting on top of it. 

“He made sure the boy was safe, then was straight back into the water.”

Cut to more footage- Buck yelling over the deafening roar, commanding frightened civilians to stay together. The water that was now chest deep for buck as the water seemed to be slightly receding was still bucking with unpredictable currents. Debris floated by still violently slamming into anything in its path.

He pushed people into clusters, made them link arms, assigned them safety partners, and led them to the fire engine or higher ground once the engine was too crowded, even then he repeatedly returned to the engine to check on the child.

“He instructed the group to tether themselves to the fire engine or nearby beams when the current threatened to pull them back out during the receding surges. Eyewitnesses credit Buck with saving dozens of lives before backup could even reach the zone.”

Chin stared silently.

In the background of the footage, the fire engine loomed solid behind Buck, dented and inside flooded, and tilted on its side, but holding strong only rocking gently with the rhythm of the chaos. On the top of it, the boy could be seen surrounded by people- arms linked, pale but unharmed.

Then Chin’s eyes drifted back to the profile. 

Decorations:

• Medal of Valor
• Navy Cross
• Silver Star
• Purple Heart
• Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medal (w/ Valor device)
• Combat Action Ribbon 

He frowned. 

No listed branch, no unit, no deployments. Just medals sitting there with no explanation for the how or the why. 

Buried in the limited access to Buck’s personal files Chin finally found something useful. 

Updated Contact Number: 

( XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Chin saved it into Steve’s contacts as the silent footage played on a loop – Buck calm in the chaos, giving orders with the muscle memory and confidence of someone who’d done it enough times for it to come as breathing.

“Who are you?”

_________________________________________________

The sound of boots against the floor echoed as Steve entered the room, Danny right behind him with a coffee in hand and a stack of files under one arm.

Chin was still standing in front of the touchscreen.

He didn’t look up as he said, “Found your mystery man.”

Steve paused. “Yeah?”

Chin tapped the screen. “Evan Buckley. LAFD, Station 118. Firefighter, EMT. Off-duty during the Santa Monica tsunami. Ended up saving a lot of people. One of those people was his partner’s kid. He got the boy onto the roof of an abandoned fire engine just before the wave hit – while yelling for everyone else to get off the pier.”

The screen replayed the footage in silence – grainy, shaky video from a bystander’s phone. The wave slammed into the pier like a freight train, sending bodies and debris everywhere. But just before it hit, Buck lifted a small kid – probably seven or eight – onto the fire engine’s roof and climbed up after him. There wasn’t time for anything else. 

Chin narrated softly. “Fire engine stayed mostly in place. Shifted a little with the force but didn’t tip again. Buck secured the kid, then dove back in.”

Danny blinked. “Back in?”

Chin nodded. “Over and over. Water was at least eight feet deep at that point. No standing. Just swimming. He pulled people up – onto the engine when he could – or dragged them toward whatever wasn’t submerged yet and was somewhat secure.”

Danny let out a low whistle. “Alright, who the hell is this guy?”

"Evan Buckley." Steve deadpanned to Danny.

“Yeah,” Chin said. “Footage went viral for a minute, but most people moved on after a week.”

Steve’s eyes didn’t move from the screen. “That why you had to dig to find him?”

Chin nodded. “Firefighter records clean. But buried in the federal data vaults? That's something else, no service record, no unit name, and no deployments listed. But I pulled a list of decorations. He’s got a Navy Cross.”

Danny looked over, eyebrows raised. “Wait, really? Anything else?”

Chin turned to him and nodded, “Silver Star. Purple Heart. Navy Commendation Medal with Valor. Combat Action Ribbon.”

Danny’s expression shifted to shock, but surprisingly not asking anything more. “Okay… so definitely not just a firefighter.”

Chin swiped again. “Number’s active from a local tower in Oahu So It seems like he's sticking around but no address on record.”

Danny glanced at Steve. “And you think this guy’s just here to what-?”

Steve didn’t answer right away just silently watched the image on the screen – Buck kneeling on top of the fire engine, soaked and bleeding, talking with the little boy and grinning a slightly pained smile. 

Then he said, “I don't know. Maybe he wanted someplace quiet.”

Danny scoffed. “Wrong island for that.”

Steve nodded slowly. “True.”

____________________________________________________________

Next morning: 

Buck’s POV 

Buck was drying saltwater from his hair with the hem of his shirt when his burner buzzed.

Unknown number

It had a Local number.

He hesitated before answering.

He didn’t know exactly who was calling, but he had a suspicion.

No one but a select few had this number- though now he suspects a few more if he knows Steve.

Eventually, he accepted the call.

“Buck.”

There was a pause. Then Steve’s voice steady but with a hint of tightness to it. “We need your help It’s a sensitive situation. I know you probably didn't come here to be bothered but it requires your skill set, and I could use some backup. Local PD and SWAT will botch it if they move first- but you can of course say no.”

“Where?” He asked trying to keep his voice unreadable and flat.

___________________________________________________________

Steve pulled the car into a quiet residential street, a neighborhood of modest homes. 

Buck followed shoulders tense.

“This is it,” Steve said, nodding toward a beige two-story house with closed blinds.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense.

A small girl, no more than eight, huddled under a couch, her wide eyes fixed on the floor. A police officer kept his distance.

Buck knelt down beside her after a second of hesitance, voice soft. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here to help, we aren't gonna hurt you.”

She looked up, trembling but didn't say a word.

Steve exchanged a glance with Buck.

“The kid was hiding here when her mom was killed,”

Buck swallowed a knot in his throat and nodded. They left the girl in the care of one of Steve’s team- Kono. 

___________________________________________________________

The sun was hot overhead, the kind that clung to your skin and made the water below look deceptively peaceful. The memorial floated silently nearby, a bright monument to the dead.

The other man- Danny? 

Danny stood pacing beside Steve, voice climbing. Buck was a few paces back, hands on his hips, watching quietly, calculating, and with a bit of hidden amusement.

“You realize this is illegal, right?” Danny snapped, eyes flicking between Steve and the water. “You are trespassing on federal property. You can’t just dive under a historic war grave!”

Steve didn’t say anything. He reached up and pulled his shirt over his head.

Danny scoffed, hands flailing.

“Oh, great. Yeah, okay, sure. Just strip down right here. Do you have any self-preservation instinct? Because I’m really starting to think you don’t.” 

Steve held his shirt in one hand, hesitated, then turned to Buck.

He didn’t speak but gave him a questioning look.

Buck met his eyes and raised his eyebrow slightly and he could feel a smirk tugging at his mouth, but he schooled his expression then gave a near- imperceptible nod.

Permission granted.

Steve tossed his shirt into a waterproof tactical bag at his feet and crouched to untie his boots. Buck followed a moment later, peeling off his own shirt and adding it to the same bag without a word – like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Danny’s jaw dropped.

“Oh, now you’re both doing this? This is a suicide pact, is that what I’m watching? Because no one thought to include me and I feel very left out.” 

Buck gave him a deadpan look. Steve ignored him, stepping to the edge of the dock. Buck moved in sync, the muscle memory of a dozen joint ops kicking in like no time had passed at all.

Danny raised both arms. “Seriously? Are you both just gonna swan dive into a felony right now!?” 

Buck looked at the water then at the shorter man making eye contact then finally let his smirk show and gave a sharp snap of his fingers. With no hesitation Steve dove in cleanly, slicing through the water.

Buck huffed out a rush of air at the look on the man's face then followed silently with barley a splash just like the soft sound of water shifting against the dock.

Danny’s POV 

Danny looked up at the sky like he was begging someone – anyone — for patience.

“Fantastic. I’m surrounded by lunatics with martyr complexes.”

Chapter Text

Buck’s POV

The ship groaned faintly under its own age, creaking slightly as they made their way through it. Steve moved first steps quiet and steady, gun drawn but not raised too high. Buck trailed a few paces behind watching Steve's blind spots in his hand is a tactical knife, not his first choice but he'll take what he can get at the moment.

After a few minutes they saw him.

Recognition filled Buck as he saw the man. 

Ray Mapes.

Slouched in partial cover behind a crate, one arm banded tight around a woman’s shoulders. His other hand held a pistol, pointed just enough to be a problem but not an immediate one. His eyes were wide but not quite wild yet just unsteady.

Steve’s finger twitched slightly along his trigger guard. 

Buck stepped forward once.

“Mapes. Stand down.”

The effect was immediate.

Mapes froze, shoulders snapping back as he rose to his feet, posture locked. He dropped the hostage immediately and turned his full attention to Buck.

“Commander Buckley,” he said quickly, eyes clearing and widening slightly as he straightened even further. “Awaiting directive, sir.”

For a brief moment Steve’s expression flickered his weapon lowered slightly as if caught in a reflexive pause from the command. Steve shook himself out of it quickly and moved to help the hostage. 

Buck didn’t even blink at Steve acting on his own but did suck his teeth slightly. 

Steve tensed for a moment but didn't say anything before softly talking to the hostage. 

“You are to disarm and raise your hands. Now.”

Mapes compiled instantly, gun lowered to the ground and hands raised to shoulder height. His breath was ragged but controlled. 

“Orders received. Disarmed, sir.”

Buck took another step forward and kept his tone even but clipped.

“You’re compromised. That means you don’t think. You follow. Is that clear?”

“Yes sir.”

“We’re exiting the ship. No sudden movements, no talking unless prompted follow me unless told otherwise. Understood?”

“Understood.”

Buck turned, walking ahead knowing the man would follow. And from the answering steps he heard behind him, he was right.

Steve rejoined them, silent as he fell into step at Buck’s back.

________________________________________________________

The dock was quieter than he expected.

A few patrol cars sat idling at the distance. SWAT was nowhere to be seen. EMTs stood by, idle since there were no injuries to treat. There was still a quiet tension that hadn’t quite lifted.

Mapes stepped onto solid ground and froze.

Buck didn’t say anything, just stood beside him with his arms crossed and weight settled onto his heels. Watching.

Steve spoke with the uniforms off to the side voice low and clipped barely glancing over his shoulder. No doubt informing them of what happened.

When Mapes finally broke the silence, it was in a low tone. Meant for Buck only.

“I didn’t think it was you, sir. Thought you were gone.”

“I was,” Buck replied. “But you made a mess loud enough to pull me back.”

Mapes gave a short nod regret showing on his face shoulders still locked but slightly sagging in the face his old commander.

A young woman – child services, maybe – approached with the girl. The kid looked small, eyes still too wide, fingers clenched around a stuffed animal.

Mapes went rigid again, like the sight of her unraveled whatever was left of his discipline.

Buck tensed and shifted slightly and brushed his shoulder against Mapes in warning.

“Stay sharp. She needs her father. Not the man from the ship.”

That seemed to get through to him.

Mapes dropped to one knee, slow and careful, and held his arms open. The girl ran to him without hesitation. 

Buck turned away before they made contact. He didn’t need to see it that part wasn’t his.

Just seeing the man with his kid made Buck's chest twist. He missed his superman.

Steve was suddenly at his side as if magically sensing the downturn to Buck's thoughts.

They watched each other for a moment. 

“I owe you one for this,” Steve said quietly breaking the silence.

Buck didn’t respond, just scanned Steve’s face taking in the changes from when he last saw him lingering slightly on the new grey hairs at Steve's temple before Buck's gaze landed on his lips then just nodded once. 

He turned away without a word and started walking.

Steve’s POV

Buck turned and started walking away.

But Steve didn’t move.

Not yet.

His eyes tracked the back of him, the way Buck’s stayed rigid still coiled and wound tight the muscles shifting under his shirt. 

It had been a hell of a thing, what he pulled off on that ship. Clean, quiet, and controlled. Buck had spoken, and the SEAL had listened. Obeyed. Stood down like he’d been yanked out of a nightmare just by the sound of one voice.

And then Buck had turned to Steve, just for a moment, and looked at him like he already knew what Steve was going to say. Like he was dissecting him with just a glance. Steve thought Buck was going to say something, but he didn't. Buck had just observed him with an almost blank face.

He noticed Buck's eyes lingering just off center of Steve's eyes but he thought nothing of it. 

Until–

Steve swallowed.

Until Buck’s eyes dropped to his mouth. And just for a second Buck's eyes had gained an almost intensity that Steve had physically felt. That sharp, almost electric flicker of attention. He wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or if his mind was playing tricks on him – too much adrenaline, not enough sense– but it hit like static anyway.

Gay panic at its finest. A voice that sounded too much like Mary drawled teasingly in his mind  

Jesus.

Steve blinked, shoved that voice deep into the back of his mind. Then dragged a hand down his face and through his hair like it might erase the feeling – or the look– entirely.

“Get a grip,” he muttered to himself.

Letting out a sigh he turned slightly to where everyone else still lingered, where Danny was seen pacing, already on the phone with someone. Probably yelling about protocol. 

Steve's attention shifted back; he still didn’t move eyes locked on where Buck’s retreating figure was lost in the distance. He had the kind of presence that didn’t ask to be followed- just was.

And maybe that was what unsettled him. The familiarity of it.

Steve had seen control before. Hell, he’d had control. But Buck… Buck always wore it so well. And that drove Steve insane.

And now, walking away, Buck didn’t even glance back at him.

Steve’s fingers twitched at his side.

Yeah. He definitely looked at his mouth.

And Steve definitely wasn’t ready to think about what that might mean– for either of them.

___________________________________________________________

Later That day: Steve’s POV 

After the paperwork. After the debriefs. After the still-lingering adrenaline from dealing with the SEAL– Steve needed air. Distance. A break.

Which is how he ended up here.

A quiet bar off the main strip, half the lights dimmed like the place was as tired as he was. No Five-0, no cops, no questions. Just the familiar weight of a beer bottle in his hand – the cold grounding in a way the heat would never be– and the hum of strangers around him. For the first time all day he could relax. Well relax as much as he could in an open space like this.

He had come for the quiet and the distant company.

Low lighting, half-full bottles behind the counter, soft music bleeding through the overhead speakers – “Piano man” he thinks – He sat near the end, sipping a Longboard, trying to unwind and not think for a while.

But of course, that didn’t last.

A guy – probably a tourist – took the stool next to him. Too 'friendly', too pushy, too loud. One of those who didn’t know how to read a simple no thanks or didn’t care to. The kind that thought persistence made them charming. 

Steve gave the usual warning signs: silence, turned shoulder, a clipped, “Not interested.”

The guy didn’t take the hint.

And then- he vanished.

Not literally. But he stood up quick, stool scraping the floor, stammering something like, “Didn’t mean anything by it,” before weaving off into the crowd.

Steve looked over- and saw Buck standing just behind the vacated stool, hands in his pockets, one brow raised and an unmistakable twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Amused. Very amused.

“Do you always attract that type,” Buck asked, stepping into the spot, “or was he just feeling brave tonight?” 

Steve snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “You call that brave, after scaring him off?”

Buck shrugged, letting his grin grow as he sat. “I didn’t even glare . Barely looked at him.”

“Right. And I’m sure the five inches you’ve got on him didn’t help.”

Buck tilted his head, feigning modesty. “What can i say? Some people just respond to presence.” 

Steve shook his head, chuckling under his breath. Buck flagged down the bartender with a flick of his fingers and ordered a beer– Longboard, same as Steve.

They didn’t say anything for a moment. Just sipped.

Then Buck leaned back, just enough to stretch out a little. “Didn’t think you would become the “drink alone” type.” 

“I’m not.” Steve didn’t look at him as he spoke. “Today’s just been… long.”

Buck nodded, his gaze flicking across the bar before landing back on Steve.

“Well,” he said, tone light and slightly warmer, “you’re not drinking alone anymore.”

Their bottles clinked softly in the space between them.

____________________________________________________________

They were a couple drinks in now, and the silence had started to stretch between them- but not in a bad way. It was easy- easier than it should be with how long has passed. 

Buck had turned and was now leaning back on the bar, one elbow back on it, and the other hand nursing his beer. He was smiling. Relaxed in a way Steve hadn’t seen since–

Well. Since before.

And then Buck’s phone buzzed.

Just once.

His hand immediately moved to the inside pocket of his jacket. The smile didn’t disappear– it evaporated. Wiped clean in an instant.

Steve saw the way his body tensed. Posture shifting in an instant, immediately alert. His gaze flicked toward the screen, and everything open about him shut down. A part of Steve mourned the loss of his smile.

“...Buck?” Steve asked carefully, voice low.

Buck didn’t respond at first, just pressed the phone to his ear and turned slightly away– already looking toward the door.

“Yeah.” 

A pause.

Then his tone changed to something firmer and cutting. “Are you with her?”

Steve couldn’t hear the other end, but whatever was being said turned Buck’s expression to stone. His jaw clenched. He nodded once even though the caller couldn’t see it.

“Send me her location. I’m getting her.”

He ended the call to quick for there to have been a reply.

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but Buck had already tossed down enough cash to cover both their drinks and was sliding off the stool.

“Something wrong?”

Buck – surprisingly– didn’t hesitate. “Yes. It’s my sister.”

Steve blinked. He hadn’t even known Buck had a sister.

“She’s in trouble. She needs me.”

The weight behind his words was final. Buck didn’t explain further.

Steve stood as well. “You need backup?”

Buck paused, then shook his head. “Not that kind of trouble. Yet.”

Steve didn’t press. He knew that tone and when not to push it.

Buck was halfway to the exit when Steve called after him, “Do you have a place to bring her?”

Buck stopped. For the first time since answering the phone, some of his previous amusement – affection? – came back before disappearing again. 

“I will by morning.”

Buck’s POV 

He wasn’t supposed to make Hawaii permanent.

It started as a detour. A half-joke of an escape route and fond memories. A place to breathe for a while. Made with the past memory of a man saying it was his home. Maybe with the slight hope of seeing said man again.

well mission accomplished.

But as soon as Hondo’s name lit up his phone –one of the only contacts who still knew how to reach him – and said, “Maddie needs help,” Buck knew the game had changed.

He couldn’t afford to float anymore. Couldn’t leave her safety up to “temporary.” 

So he did what he always did when things went sideways.

He acted.

By 3 a.m., Buck had signed papers for a secure, gated property high enough in the hills to see the ocean and far enough from the tourist strips to feel like a fortress. Quiet and private. Space for Maddie. For Christopher, if needed. For whatever hell was coming.

No more borrowed rooms. No more renting. No more sleeping where he landed.

This time, he was staying. And he wasn’t taking chances.

Chapter Text

Steve’s POV 

“Alright,” Danny said, dropping into the chair across from him like he was settling in for an interrogation and knowing Danny. He was. “Who the hell is Buck?”

Steve didn’t even try to play clueless.

He leaned back slightly, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight. “Why?”

“Because you’re acting weird,” Danny pointed out, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Weirder than normal. That guy shows up, and you suddenly forget how to communicate like a human. Well more than normal. You go full “yes, sir, no, sir,”. 

Steve didn’t respond right away. His mind flicked back to how he had immediately fallen back into the mindset he had had when he had been under Buck's command. How when Buck had said to stand down Mapes had immediately obeyed. How even Steve himself had paused despite the order not being given to him even if it was only for a second.

“He’s someone I served with,” Steve said eventually.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

Steve hesitated. He didn't want to go into the all too complicated past he has with Buck.

“He outranked me.” There. Simple enough.

Of course that got a reaction. 

Danny blinked. “Wait– what? Buck outranked you?”

“He was my commander,” Steve confirmed. “Decorated even.”

Danny whistled. “And he’s in Hawaii… why?”

Steve didn’t answer, mostly because he wasn’t sure why himself.

Danny narrowed his eyes. “You’re not telling me something.”

Steve looked away.

Danny leaned forward. “Is he going to be a problem?”

“No,” Steve said. “Not unless you are.”

That luckily shut Danny up for the moment.

Buck’s POV

The plane ride back to LA was quiet. Buck hadn’t said a word since Hondo called.

He’d gotten the call just when he had started feeling comfortable with Steve again. The laughter still faint in his head when Hondo’s voice knocked it out of him like a punch to the chest.

“Yeah.” 

“It’s Maddie. She lost the baby.” 

He’d felt cold all at once like a bucket of water had been upended on his head. And then Hondo had said something else that made Buck immediately book the next flight out.

“Something's off. She’s not safe there.”

“Are you with her?”

“No, she just called and asked for you.”

“Send me her location. I’m getting her.”

Buck hung up before getting a response.

By the time he landed, he had a new place bought and waiting.

__________________________________________________________

The front door wasn’t locked.

That was the first bad sign.

Buck let himself in without knocking, already alert. The place was too quiet- creepily so. 

Keeping his steps silent he moved through the house, checking rooms as he went. The living room was just around the corner – and that’s where he heard it.

“I’m doing my best, Maddie,” Chimney snapped. “I lost something too!”

“You didn’t carry her!” Maddie’s voice cracked. “You didn’t have to live with your dead daughter inside of you–”

The sound was sickening.

A sharp crack. Flesh meeting flesh. 

Buck’s world narrowed to a pinprick.

He stepped into the room on silent steps, unseen, until it was too late.

Maddie stood frozen, one hand pressed to her cheek, tears streaking down her face. Chimney stood in front of her, hand still half-raised, guilt and horror flashing too late in his eyes.

Then he noticed Buck.

Chimney’s POV

He didn’t even get a word out before Buck crossed the room and pinned him to the wall by the throat– towering over him.

Chimney’s face blanched in horror. His distress no doubt very visible on his face.

He’d seen Buck fight before. Just once– but that was enough. A guy got handsy with May at a bar on her 21st birthday. The aftermath stuck with Chimney more than the hits and split knuckles had ever stuck with Buck.

It was enough.

Buck’s arm came up and pressed across Chimney’s throat, pinning him hard to the wall.

Buck’s POV

Chimney’s hands flew up instinctively, eyes wide with something that looked a hell of a lot like fear.

Maddie gasped– startled – but didn’t move.

Buck leaned in close, eyes sharp and voice low, controlled. 

“Try that again,” he said coldly. “And I won’t hold back. Don't ever touch her again.”

Chimney didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

"Do you understand me?" Buck applied more pressure when he got no response.

"I said do you understand me."

"Under- understood" Chimney choked out.

Buck held him there for a second longer, watching him squirm not quite struggling and scoffed.

Then he stepped back.

Chimney collapsed slightly into the wall, coughing and rubbing at his reddening throat.

Buck turned to Maddie without another glance at him. His voice softened into something more familiar.

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

Maddie hesitated only for a second before nodding and walking past Chimney without a word. 

Buck followed her out.

Steve’s POV 

The car rolled through the city, headlights cutting through the dark as Danny kept glancing over at Steve like a hawk.

“So, who really is buck?” Danny asked, tone teasing but relentless. “Come on, spill it. I know I already asked but what’s the deal with this guy? You got all shifty eyed when I asked. Wait dont tell me-Superhero? Secret agent? Your long-lost brother?”

Steve’s eye twitched slightly and a grimace passed over his face at the last comment before clearing again. He let out a dry chuckle, eyes on the road.

“If he were any of those, I’d probably be in way more trouble.”

Danny smirked, undeterred. “Oh please. You’re enjoying keeping me in the dark. Admit it.”

“Maybe I am.” Steve shrugged, a sly grin creeping onto his face. “Makes life more interesting.”

Danny just rolled his eyes but pressed on. “You can’t just drop a name like Buck and expect me to let it go. I need details, man. And the story on how he started getting called that. At least give me a hint.”

Steve shook his head with mock seriousness. “Sorry rules of secrecy and all that.”

“Rules you clearly break when you talk to me,” Danny shot back not buying it. “So what gives?”

Steve grinned but didn’t respond.

Danny shot him a look, snorted, then shook his head while throwing his hands up. “Figures. Well, I’ll crack you eventually.

Steve just smirked. “Good luck with that.”

Chapter Text

Buck’s POV 

The night air was still and tinged with heat when Buck and Maddie stepped onto the porch, bags in hand. Tension still between them it was an uneasy and raw feeling but he could also tell there was some relief– as fragile as it was. 

Buck didn’t even glance back at the door he’d just closed. Chimney was still inside, most likely slumped against the wall where he’d left him, bruised pride and regret keeping him rooted in place. Buck didn’t bother sparing him a glance already punting Chimney from his mind.

All that mattered right now was Maddie.

Next to him, she was quiet, face red from crying and cheek already bruising and tender to the touch. She squeezed his hand.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

Buck simply nodded.

They walked down the steps together. She stopped and looked up at him in the dim porch light.

“I don’t know what comes next,” Maddie said quietly.

“Well, you’re safe now that's all that matters everything else we’ll figure out later,” Buck replied steadily. “Let’s get out of here.”

They slipped into the rental car parked in the driveway and Buck started the engine. For a while, they drove in silence, the LA streets passing in a blur of color under the soft orange glow of the streetlights and the nightlife of LA booming with it.

That’s when Buck’s phone buzzed.

He reached down and picked it up from the center console. The caller ID made his chest tighten instantly.

Christopher❤️ 

His hand was already moving to accept the call before he could even think. Answering the phone, he quickly brought the phone to his ear. He could see maddie giving him a concerned look from the passenger seat.

“Chris?” 

“Bucky?” Christopher’s voice was small. “I- I don’t know what to do.”

Buck sat straighter shoulders tensing. Maddie looked even more concerned but also confused and surprised; Most likely at the fact Chris had his personal number while she had to contact a third party first. 

“What’s going on, superman?” 

“Dad locked himself in his room. He is yelling and… I think he broke something, I heard a bang. I got scared.”

Buck’s hand clenched around the wheel. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No. I just… I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You did the right thing, buddy,” Buck said, already flipping a – definitely illegal – U-turn. “You’re safe in your room, right? Door locked?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t open it for anyone else. You hear me?”

“Okay.” Buck could hear a slight rustle and woosh of air signaling that Chris had likely nodded. 

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, Bucky.”

Buck reluctantly ended the call and dropped the phone into the cup holder, jaw clenched tight enough to hurt.

“Where are we going?” Maddie asked, gripping her seatbelt tight as he swerved in and out of traffic at panic inducing speeds. 

Buck’s voice was low, steady despite the stress, with a hint of affection. “Final destination is Hawaii. But first– I need to get my kid.”

When they finally got there, he made Maddie wait in the car.

Walking up to the door he noticed it was unlocked.

That definitely wasn’t like Eddie.

Buck stepped inside without a word, careful not to let it slam behind him. The house was dim and quiet in a way that unnerved him, it was usually so lively. Buck was already getting sick of the houses he used to see so full of life being filled with a deadly quiet. Then a faint thud sounded from down the hall followed by another- then another finishing with the sound of glass shattering. 

“Chris?” Buck called out– not too loud and surprisingly steady despite the anxiety growing.

“I’m in my room!” Came the muffled voice from behind the closed door at the end of the hall.

Good.

“Okay, buddy, I’m going to need you to stay there. I’ll come get you in a minute, okay?” 

Buck held his breath until he got a reply.

“Okay!” 

Buck let out a quiet breath at the shouted affirmative.

Buck crossed the living room, following the sound and scanning the house he once considered home. A chair was overturned. A broken picture frame sat face-down on the floor, glass cracked beneath it. Buck’s heart clenched as he recognized it– a photo of the three of them. Laughing. Happy.

He set it down and kept moving deeper into the house.

Eddie's bedroom was partially open– hinges barely holding it on from where it looked to be kicked in. The strike plate was bent and partially torn from the frame, screws dangling loose where the force had ripped them out. The surrounding wood was cracked and splintered wood littered the floor surrounding the door.

The door was open enough for Buck to see him shirt soaked with sweat, breathing heard, knuckles red, holes littered the wall near his dresser. Eddie turned when he heard movement. His eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling quickly as if he had run a marathon.

“Buck,” he said hoarsely. 

“You left your door unlocked,” Buck replied flatly. “Chris also called me.”

Eddie’s hands trembled. “I didn’t mean to scare him, is he okay–”

“But you did.”

Eddie’s expression shifted– guilt, shame, frustration all wrestling with each other on his face. “I didn’t touch him– I wouldn’t hurt him.”

“No,” Buck said, stepping closer, “you seem to keep all that violence for me; But I remember a time when you said the same things about me.”

He watched as the guilt left Eddie’s face being quickly replaced by anger.

Always so quick to be set off when it came to Buck.

He didn’t flinch when Eddie surged forward.

It wasn’t a clean or controlled hit – it was messy and desperate. Eddie’s fist caught him in the ribs first, hard enough to make Buck grunt and stagger half a step back. Then came the quick backhand across the face. Wild and uncontrolled as usual. He knew from past experiences with it that it was definitely going to leave a bruise.

Buck didn’t let it phase him for too long.

He caught Eddie by the arm and twisted hard , turning the momentum against him, until he had him pinned– face down, arms held behind his back.

“Enough,” Buck snapped. “This is not okay! You do not get to act like this with Christopher in the house. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

Eddie finally stilled from his attempts to get loose, his chest heaving.

Buck didn’t say anything else. He let go of Eddie after a few moments, stepped back, and waived for Eddie to sit up. Eddie slumped into the wall like a marionette with its strings cut. Looking broken in a way Buck hadn’t seen before.

“You need help,” Buck said, voice lower – tired – now. “And you’re going to get it. Either you can do it voluntarily or I can make you.”

Eddie didn’t argue or even look at him. He just nodded once, eyes wet but empty.

Same day.

Later. 

Christopher didn’t let go of Buck’s hand the entire flight.

Maddie sat quietly across the aisle, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, staring out the window with eyes still red-rimmed. Christopher had fallen asleep on Buck’s arm halfway through the flight, his little fingers still clutching his shirt like he might disappear if he let go.

Buck had barely moved.

He’d made the arrangements in a whirlwind—called in every favor he had left. Eddie was checked into a private treatment facility with zero red tape and twenty-four-hour care. 

Hawaii was supposed to be temporary, but it wasn’t anymore not when the people who needed him were safer there.

He’d bought a place the same day the flight was booked—nothing fancy, but it could become a home. Maddie could heal. Christopher could breathe. And Buck could start over.

Again.

Steve’s POV

A few days later.

Hawaii. 

Danny was in the middle of another rant. Something about Steve’s lack of regard for excessive violence when handling criminals, or maybe his refusal to use turn signals when on a chase. Honestly, Steve had tuned him out somewhere at the beginning of his speech about “You can’t just ignore traffic patterns you neanderthal. You can't use your service as an excuse.”

They rounded the corner downtown—bustle of locals and tourists weaving past—and that’s when Steve saw him.

Buck.

Across the street, standing near a small cafe with two takeout cups in one hand and a paper bag tucked under his arm. He was dressed in a black long sleeve, sleeves pushed up, posture easy but off and tense. His face was turned just enough that the shadow under his eye was unmistakable.

Steve’s pace picked up without conscious thought.

Danny groaned. “Why are we walking faster? Are you—oh. Oh, it’s the giant you have a suicide pact with. Great.”

Buck looked up just in time.

“Hey,” he said, and Steve was already in front of him, scanning him with military precision.

“What the hell happened?” Steve’s voice wasn’t loud, but it easily cut through the sidewalk noise like a knife through butter. His hands were already lifting.

Buck didn’t stop him.

He stood there like a statue as Steve raised his hand towards Buck’s face.

Buck’s face twitched a split second before Steve grabbed his jaw, he placed his index finger under Buck’s jaw and placed his thumb just under his bottom lip, tilting his face just slightly to see the full extent of the damage.

A slow exhale whoosed out from Buck. His whole body went tense, but he didn’t pull back. He just stared at Steve as he looked his fill.

Danny was beside them now and from the corner of his eye Steve could see him raise a brow and smirk slightly.

Steve ignored him.

His hand dropped, but then he pushed up the edge of Buck’s shirt seeing the tense way he was holding himself. He pushed it up just enough to see the bruising along his ribs. They were definitely fresh going by the bright red and purple hue to them.

Steve’s jaw locked.

Danny was behind them now having moved to see what Steve was looking at before halting mid-step.

“In the middle of the goddamn street?” Danny muttered, scandalized. “Are you stripping him down now? Is this foreplay? Because I—listen, I support the gays, but I do not support public indecency on a Monday.”

Steve ignored him. Again.

“Jesus,” He muttered when he got a closer look.

He looked up at Buck in time to see the half-shrug he gave, still holding the coffees.

“It looks worse than it is.

“You have no reason to have even slightly bruised ribs let alone ones that “Look worse than they are”,” Steve snapped, eyes narrowing. 

Across from them now, Danny threw up his arms. “Hello! Release the kind man's shirt now! You don’t just lift people’s shirts like that in the middle of a busy street!” 

Steve tuned him out and continued to look up into Buck’s eyes. Buck’s eyes drifted back from where he was watching Danny’s 30th meltdown of the day. Their eyes locked.

For a second the world around him blurred and sound dropped out. There was a heat in that stare. Not overly obvious but Steve could see it.

Annnd then Buck ruined it when he spoke. Dry as ever. “You done yet, or are you going to ask me to bend and cough next.”

Steve blinked. Looked away a slight smirk growing on his face. “I mean… since you’re so kind to offer.”

Danny fake gagged behind them. “Nope. I’m done. I’m going to go walk into traffic. Maybe a car will hit me and put me out of my misery.”

Buck smiled faintly.

“I wouldn’t tempt fate Danno.” Steve said voice full of humor.

Buck coughed to cover up a laugh that slipped out, still looking down into Steve’s eyes. He could see the humor and then amusement in his eyes as he tilted his head and exaggerated the looking down he had to do. 

It wasn’t a massive difference, but Buck was taller than him now. And he was definitely smug about it. Steve could see it in his eyes. 

Steve rolled his eyes but the truth was– he didn’t mind.

Chapter Text

Buck’s POV 

The morning was still in a uniquely calming way. From the house, Buck could hear the faint rustle of distant trees and the rhythmic crash of waves on the beach.

Maddie was asleep on the couch inside after a spontaneous movie night and camp-out. She was seen curled up under a rumpled blanket, the couch seam pressed into her non bruised cheek, snoring gently with her mouth wide open. Christopher was out back, bare footed on the stone of the patio, carefully watering a row of potted plants that had come with the house with a serious look of concentration on his face. His crutches were tossed half haphazardly against the wall – close enough to grab– as he leaned dangerously for the farthest plant only using the wall for balance. 

Buck leaned against the doorway, coffee in hand, bruised ribs twinging but manageable. The domestic image in front of him wrapped itself around his soul, warming it in the best ways.

Then Maddie let out a snore loud enough to startle birds three trees over.

Christopher jumped and almost lost his balance grabbing the wall at the last second. Buck whipped his head to the side – and the second their eyes met, both of them burst into muffled giggles. Buck tried to swallow it, but the sound that slipped out a full-body laugh that made his side throb and his eyes water. Chris lost it too, crumbling fully against the wall bent at the waist as he tried –and failed– to stay standing.

Maddie bolted upright on the couch.

“What’s so funny?” she mumbled, voice gravelly as she blinked through sleep crusted eyes. Her hair was an actual crime scene and she seemingly had no idea.

Chris wheezed. “Nothing!”

Buck wheezed harder. “You.” 

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously but softened when she caught the both trying to stop laughing and failing miserably.

“Rude,” She muttered, and started fighting with her hair as if that would make the situation better.

It didn’t.

Buck took another sip of his coffee after finally being able to calm down and let the moment settle.

Flashback:

the night before

It had started with a single sentence.

“I can’t believe neither of you have seen The Princess Bride.”

Maddie had looked offended. Christopher had looked intrigued. As soon as he saw that Buck had immediately queued it up.

They ate popcorn straight out of the bags, wrapped in mismatched blankets, and made it halfway through the movie before Maddie fell asleep. Buck had tried to lower the sound while she snored away, but Christopher told him to turn it back up and stop pretending that Maddie couldn't sleep through the end of the world.

It felt normal, happy.

And Buck hadn’t realized how much he missed that.

End flashback 

Buck’s phone buzzed from it’s place on the counter.

Buck frowned and grabbed it, eyes scanning the screen finding a message from Steve.

“Need some backup, you up for it? Ridge job. Will give details later. If yes, bring those sharp eyes of yours.”

Buck snorted. “Lovely communication as always.” 

He glanced inside. Maddie was shuffling toward the kitchen like a zombie, a blanket being used as a cape dragging along behind her. Christopher had finished watering and was now playing a game on his phone.

He exhaled through his nose, stretched and tested how much mobility he was allowed, and texted back.

“ On my way. Do I need to bring anything?”

The reply came instantly.

“No, we have what you’ll need.”

Buck snorted, “Yeah I bet you do.” he muttered under his breath, and sent another:

“To my standards?”

There was a pause.

“Yes, Princess.” 

Buck stared at the screen, lips twitching. “Brat,” he muttered, though there was no heat in it.

He shook his head, tossed the phone onto the counter with a sigh.

“Steve just called me Princess, ” he called toward the kitchen.

From her place eating at the bar, Maddie groaned. “Tell him to buy you dinner before bringing out the pet names.”

Buck snorted and decided it was probably a good thing that he'd spent so many years talking about Steve. Buck didn't want to bring an unfamiliar man into their lives too soon.

At this point Steve could not be considered new.

Five-0 Headquarters 

Five-0 headquarters was a mix of organized chaos – chatter in the background, the low buzz from the electronics, and the familiar sounds of weapons being prepped. Buck moved through it without breaking stride. Confidence in his step at the familiar environment. 

He didn’t stop until he found Steve in what looked like an armory, where Steve was hunched over a workbench, taking apart a rifle with casual ease of muscle memory. Steve looked up, smirk already in place.  “You made it.” 

  Buck didn’t answer. He just pulled his phone from his pocket, turned the screen toward Steve – Yes, Princess glowing in bold text – and raised one brow.

Steve’s POV

Steve’s smirk grew into something that could only be described as shameless. “What? You are a princess sometimes.”

Buck set the phone down on the table between them, next to the neatly laid-out rifle parts, and leaned forward just enough to crowd Steve’s space. “Keep pushing,” he said mildly, a slight smirk growing on his face, voice flat and threaded with a subtle authority Steve had learned to not ignore.

Steve didn’t apologize , but his grin tilted cooked as he held up his hands in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said as innocently as possible. 

It was an old game – one they both knew the unspoken rules to. Outside of combat, Steve would test the line just to see if Buck would push back. In the field, though? Steve would fall in behind him without hesitation.

“Rifle is tuned up for you,” Steve said, tone shifting into something more serious as he slid the weapon across. “West ridge. You’ll have eyes on the whole approach up in your nest. Chin’s gonna be feeding you wind patterns in your earpiece before we begin.”

Buck’s POV 

Buck checked the rifle with easy confidence and muscle memory. “You’re moving in from below?”

“With Danny and Kono,” Steve confirmed. “If it gets loud, we’ll call you in. Otherwise, you’re our ace in the hole.” 

Buck’s mouth curved in a faint smirk. “Good. Try not to screw it up enough to need me in there.” 

“Yes sir.” Steve replied in a sarcastic tone but when he looked up into Buck’s eyes he could tell there was at least some seriousness there. 

Interesting. 

Buck’s POV 

The ridge

The ridge was quiet except for the hum of his earpiece. He shifted the rifle’s weight, breath slow, eyes fixed on the approach below.

“Wind’s hold steady at six knots, north-northeast,” Chin’s voice crackled in his ear.

“Copy.”

Below, Steve’s voice came through next. “We’re moving in. You’ll have a window in two minutes.”

“Noted.” 

Two minutes later, the call came again, this time Steve’s tone had a sharp edge. “Change of plans. Meet me halfway up the east slope.”

“Copy. Heading there now.”

Buck didn’t waste time with questions. He packed the rifle, slid down the rocky incline and came up on Steve and Danny rounding a bend. Steve didn’t hesitate to reach into his gear and pull one of his own guns holding it out by the barrel. 

Buck took it without a blink.

Danny started muttering immediately as they kept moving. “Oh sure, just hand him one of your guns like it’s no big deal, like that’s a totally normal thing for you to do. Anybody else even looks at your gun, they’d be lucky to walk away with all their fingers. But no, Buck shows up and suddenly you’re Mr. Generosity–” 

“Danny,” Steve said, tone flat.

Danny kept going under his breath, “Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. 

They broke into a jog, rounding a final rise where the slope flattened into a sparse stretch of brush. Steve dropped low, Buck following without a sound. Steve glanced at him, tapped two fingers toward a cluster of rocks, then pointed to himself and swept toward a low wall fifty feet ahead. Buck nodded once, already moving. 

Kono’s voice came through the comms: “Two targets, armed, heading your way.”

The first burst of gunfire cut through the air, sparking off the rock Buck slid behind. He located them, fired twice – one down. Steve’s gun sounded from nearby, dropping the second before they could adjust.

As they got to the building more gunfire erupted from deeper inside the structure. Buck shifted position, covering Steve’s push forward.  Steve glazed back, caught Buck’s eye, and motioned: flank right .

Buck nodded, moving in a low sprint following behind Steve. Buck could feel his ribs twinge at the movement, but he pushed that into the back of his mind.

Rounds cracked past his ear, close enough to feel the heat. He fired back, clipped another target, and ducked into partial cover. His magazine ran dry.

Before Steve could even glance over at the click of the clip being removed, Buck reached forward, hooking two fingers into the side pocket of Steve’s cargo pants without a moment's hesitation and yanked a fresh mag free. The exchange was seamless – mag in, bolt forward, back in the fight in seconds. 

Danny’s hiss came over the comms.  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Did he just–? He just went into your pocket . Who even does that!?”

Steve ignored him, firing again. 

Buck snorted and smirked faintly, while actively shooting people down. “Relax, Danny. No need to be jealous now.” 

Danny sputtered then muttered something that sounded like, “Jealous my ass,” but Steve and Buck were already pushing forward.

Steve’s POV 

Buck didn’t even look, just reached straight into Steve’s cargo pocket like it was the most natural thing in the world, yanked a mag free, and slammed it home without missing a beat.

Steve’s brain short-circuited for half a second. Oh, for– not now . Not the time.

He forced his eyes back on the fight, swallowing what that spark in his chest – and lower – was trying to turn into. 

Professional. Focus, McGarrett .

Buck slid into position beside him, firing in short, efficient bursts. Not a wasted round. Not a wasted movement. He tracked Steve's flank without thinking about, covering angles Steve couldn’t see.

It was infuriatingly smooth. Like they had never stopped working together. Like it hasn’t been years since they last officially worked together.

Steve could hear Danny grumbling something about jealousy, Steve tuned him out, watching Buck reload Steve’s gun, watching the way his hands moved–

NOT. NOW.

Steve took a deep breath, chambered another round, and moved with Buck toward the next point of cover. 

Timeskip

End of fight. 

The last shot rang out and the area finally went quiet except for the wind rattling through the old building, Chin’s voice crackled over comms, confirming all suspects were down.

Steve lowered his gun, scanned once more, then glanced over at Buck– who was already doing the same thing. 

By the tine HPD was cuffing the survivors, Steve found himself half-leaning against a bare pillar, pulse still raised from the fight – okay maybe not just the fight.

Danny walked up, pulling off his tac vest with a sigh. “So. You gonna tell me what that was? Because I just watched you hand on your guns – one of your babies – to him like it was nothing. I’ve seen people almost lose fingers for less.” 

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s– complicated.” Steve winced at how overused that was. He couldn’t find another way to explain it.

Danny crossed his arms. “Complicated. That’s not an answer, that’s a cop out and you know it.”

Steve hesitated, then sighed.

 “Buck was nineteen when we met. Youngest to ever hold his position in the Navy. I’d been around a while by then, thought I’d seen every kind of leader there was.”

Danny tilted his head. “And then you met him.”

Steve’s mouth twitched. “Yeah. They assigned me to his team. He was my leader — my superior. And I might’ve tried to push back on his authority the first week.”

“Might’ve,” Danny echoed, smirking. “How’d that go?”

“About as well as you’d expect,” Steve said dryly. “He shut it down without even raising his voice, didn’t lose his cool and just put me in my place and on my ass in a way that made it impossible not to respect him. And after that, we worked well together. We became friends.”

Danny’s brows lifted. “Friends with feelings you never talked about, I’m guessing.”

Steve’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t deny it. “We both knew, yeah. But he was my superior, and he was significantly younger than me. It wasn’t a line I was willing to cross at the time.”

“‘At the time’” Danny mutters.

Steve ignores him.

“And then?”

“And then life happened. Different assignments. We didn’t see each other for years. He just disappeared. Until he showed up here in Hawaii.” Steve shook his head slightly. “First time I’d seen him since the Navy.”

Danny eyed him. “And now you’re giving him guns and letting him reach into your pants pockets in the middle of a firefight.”

Steve groaned. “It’s not—”

“It is,” Danny cut in. “Look, I get it. You’ve got history, respect, a side of unresolved sexual tension the size of texas—”

“Danny—”

“—but do me a favor and keep the details to yourself. I’m trying to be supportive here, but I don’t need a play-by-play of your "gun" grabbing foreplay.”

Steve smirked faintly despite himself. “Noted.”

Danny pointed at him as they started walking back toward the cars. “Regretting this conversation already.”

Steve smirked faintly despite himself. “Noted.”

“Good. Now let’s get out of here before I end up with mental images I can’t drink away.”

Steve chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as they fell into step.

Chapter Text

Chapter Six

Buck’s POV:

Buck would like to think him leaving without a word to Steve after the mission was over wasn’t him being a coward. He obviously was but that was a problem for another day ignorance is bliss and all that jazz.

So –like the mature adult he was– instead of dealing with it, he went home, grabbed Maddie, and opened a bottle of wine.

It started small but as the pours grew heavier so did their conversation. Filled with truths neither of them had ever said aloud, about bruises that were either to hide than to explain, about apologies that never matched the damage and had always been twisted into it being their fault. About how easy it was to convince yourself that maybe you deserved it.

By the time the bottle was empty, Maddie tipped her head back against the couch and muttered, “I think we should stop talking about the past and start drinking about the present.”

Which is how Chris ended up with a babysitter. And two hours later, Buck found himself in a club with Maddie, neon lights cutting across their faces, the bass pounding down all around them.

As Buck was scanning the crowd Maddie spun around in the middle of the dance floor, grinning wildly. “Come on, Buck!”

So he did.

That’s how they ran into Chin and Kono.

Club 12 am

“Buck, right?” Kono blinked, then smirked at his nod. “Didn’t peg you for a dancer.”

“Yeah well I’m not one to be pegged for things,” Buck shot back, snorting at his own joke. The alcohol may be hitting harder than he thought.

Maddie fake gagged then threw an arm around Kono like they were old friends. Extroverted in her drunkenness. “I’m Maddie! Buck’s sister. We are avoiding our problems! You’re in, right?”

 And just like that, the four of them were knocking back shots.

 There goes the plan to not have any unknown people around. Buck thought with a snort

Steve’s POV:

Steve’s phone buzzed against the paperwork he was working on. He frowned at the first photo: A blurry, neon-lit mess of a random woman and Kono mid-spin, hair flying in a perfect circle.

Another buzz: A text from Buck.

Two Instagram accounts. One obviously Buck’s and another for someone named Maddie 

Another buzz.

Mddie is muy sister btw shes grratt! 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

Danny leaned over. “What now?”

Steve turned the screen. Danny squinted at the picture. “...Is that Kono? Better yet. Is that a rave?” 

Before Steve could answer, his phone buzzed again.

This time it was a picture of a cocktail spilled across a bar counter with the caption : 

Myu drtinkl!!

Steve set the phone down and muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

Danny barked out a laugh. “Oh my god. He’s drunk texting you.”

Steve glared at him. Danny only grinned wider. “Oh no, don’t look at me like that. You love this. Admit it.”

Buck’s POV:

2:30 am 

Buck had no memory of how they ended up in the second club, only that Maddie had pointed at the karaoke sign and yelled, “We’re doing that!”

Chin tried to argue. Lost. And ended up on stage with all of them, belting out “Living on a Prayer” like his life depended on it.

Maddie posted it to her story before anyone could stop her. Kono then filmed Buck jumping into the chorus like he had been born for it. Which in his mind he was. 

By the time it was Buck's solo he had stripped his shirt, picked JOYRIDE. By Kesha and didn’t care that he was screaming it more than singing it. 

Steve’s POV:

Steve’s phone buzzed again. Then again. Then again.

He sighed in faux exasperation and gleefully opened the first message.

A video. Steve’s glee intensified.

Buck, drunk out of his mind, shirtless, screaming a song he couldn’t recognize into the mic with the crowd chanting along. Women’s voices shrieking encouragement in the background. A woman's hysterical laughter audible over all of it. He assumes that’s Maddie.

Steve felt the smile breaking across his face before he could stop it.

Danny’s head shot up. “What? What’s so funny?”

Steve tilted the phone towards him.

Danny watched for a moment then slapped a hand over his face and dragged it down slowly. “Nope. Just no. That’s it, I’ve seen enough. Put your phone away. Better yet burn it.” 

Steve tried – and failed – not to laugh.

Buck’s POV: 

3:56 am 

Somewhere between the third bar and greasy diner food, Buck and Chin locked eyes, pointed at the neon sign of a tattoo shop, and declared in perfect sync “Let’s do it!”

Maddie and Kono groaned. Tried to argue. 

Failed.

Which is how a still shirtless Buck ended up laughing his ass off as the needle buzzed over his ribs. Chin sat beside him, wincing through his own.

Maddie snapped a photo of the two of them half-laying against each other, fresh tattoos gleaming, then posted it immediately.

Steve’s POV: 

Steve’s phone buzzed. Again.

This time it was a close up of a tattoo gun. No explantation. 

A few seconds later– another photo.

Buck shirtless, mid laugh pressed against an equally shirtless Chin, both of them clearly just having got a tattoo based on the bandages on their ribs.

Steve froze. Mind unable to decide if he wanted to be jealous over how close the two very shirtless men were or horror and worry over the fact they had just got tattooed while drunk.

Danny, sipping his coffee, leaned over again. “Are they shirtless?”

Steve didn’t answer.

Danny leaned closer, eyes widening. “Why are they shirtless– wait– are they at a TATTOO SHOP!?”  

Steve didn’t have time to respond before Danny continued “Did those idiots really just drunkenly get tattoos as in permanent ink in their bodies!?" 

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “It seems like it.” 

Buck’s POV:

Some random dinner

4:30 am 

Buck shoved a plate of fries toward Maddie. “Eat the gods armor.”

Kono blinked. “The what?”

“Potatoes,” Buck declared seriously. “Potatoes are gods armor. If you eat enough, nothing can hurt you. Like apples.”

Maddie nearly fell out of the booth laughing.

Naturally, Buck texted Steve a picture of the fries with the caption:

Potatoss r gods armor

Steve’s POV: 

Steve read the text. Blinked once.

Danny leaned over his shoulder. “...What the hell does that even mean?”

Steve huffed out a laugh and shut off the screen and with an “I don’t know.” 

But the smile tugging at his mouth betrayed his fond amusement.

Danny threw his hands up. “I knew you were enjoying this!”

Buck’s POV: 

Bachelorette Party

5 am 

They didn’t mean to crash it. Really, they didn’t.

But one second they were outside the diner, the next Maddie had made friends with a group of women wearing tiaras and feather boas. Suddenly Buck had a plastic crown jammed into his curls, Kono had a sash that read “Bride squad” across her, and Chin was taking group selfies after being adopted into the group.

Maddie posted it all. Buck texted Steve a blurry selfie of himself in the crown with no caption.

Steve’s POV:

By then, Danny had passed out on the couch, dead to the world with an empty coffee cup still in his hand.

So when  Steve opened his phone and saw the selfie – Buck, pink crown askew, grinning like a kid being told Christmas came early – he was alone in reacting.

Steve stared at it for a long moment.

Then sighed, quietly muttering, “You’re gonna kill me, Buck”

Saving the photo, he set it as Bucks contact photo before setting the phone down, a smile tugging at his lips.

The last buzz came a few minutes later.

Fun facvt: dolphins r gay sharkds 

Steve exhaled through his nose, shook his head, leaned his head back onto the seat and let the smile win this time.

Maddie’s POV:

The chaos carried them straight into dawn. Greasy food, karaoke echoes still clinging to their throats, loud music still buzzing in their heads.

And then, as the sun started to creep into the sky, the bride herself rushed in, tiara slightly crooked, veil pinned at an angle. “We have to go, we have a wedding to get ready for!”

Her friends scrambled, gathering shoes, bags, and sashes in a flurry of perfume and squeals. They hugged Buck and the others like they’d been lifelong friends, then suddenly they were gone as quick as they had appeared.

Which left the four of them blinking in the sudden quiet, drunk and swaying.

________________________________________________________

By the time they stumbled back to Buck’s place, it was well past six am. 

Nobody even made it to a bed.

 Maddie collapsed on the couch.

Kono took the recliner.

Buck and Chin somehow ended up on the rug in the living room, both shirtless from the tattoo stop, leaning into each other because the floor felt like it was spinning otherwise.

Buck blinked blearily, mumbled something about sharks glowing in the dark again, and then let his eyes slip closed.

Maddie, still awake enough to stir, pulled out her phone. Snapping a quick shot of the two of them tangled together, bandages stark against their sun tanned skin. She grinned to herself. 

Captioned it.

Mission accomplished. 

And of course, she posted it before passing out.

Steve’s POV:

Steve was just finishing his second cup of coffee when his phone buzzed again. He swiped it open, expecting another half-coherent fact. Instead, it was Maddie’s story.

The photo was right there. Buck and Chin shirtless, knocked out cold on the floor, bandages still across their ribs, Maddie’s caption making no sense to him.

Steve froze, phone halfway down toward the table.

Was she trying to set up Buck and Chin?

Did it work?

For a moment, all he could do was stare at it.

Then he set the phone down, dragged both hands over his face, and muttered, “Jesus Christ.”

Chapter Text

Buck’s POV: 

The first thing he felt upon waking after their night out was the immediate throbbing of a headache and the sun attempting to drill a hole through his eye sockets. The next was the sound of the front door opening and Christopher's crutches clacking across the wooden floors coming to a stop in front of the place on the floor where Buck had somehow ended up sometime during the night.

“Bucky, are you alive?” 

The answer, unfortunately, was a yes – barley. 

“Yeah, Buddy, I’m okay, just slept wrong.” Buck’s voice was hoarse.

“Okay!” Christopher chirps loudly causing Buck and a surprisingly awake Maddie to wince.

Maddie was slumped over a cup of coffee at the counter, hair an absolute disaster. Taking the time to look around the room he had to stifle a snort. Kono was face down on the couch. Chin was in the process of crawling over said couch to get to the bathroom, all while muttering something about never drinking again. A few moments later Buck could hear the shower start. Groaning Buck stood both knees cracking in protest and went to his room to change and grab some fresh clothes for Chin. 

Buck set the clothes on the bathroom sink without a word then slumped next to Maddie and dropped his head on the counter. Maddie slid something in his direction.

Buck, now nursing water and aspirin, tried to remember exactly what had happened last night. He could remember snaps of photos. The tattoos. Being recorded at some point. And for some god forsaken reason he could clearly remember doing karaoke shirtless.

Nothing else.

His phone kept buzzing with notifications from instagram.

Absolute dread shot through him as more and more notifications came in. Mentions, Tags on stories, posts, dms, comments.

Maddie leaned just far enough to see the screen. “You didn’t block the 118, did you?” it was obviously meant to be a joke. 

Buck froze.

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, Buck.”

“...I forgot, okay?” he groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “It’s not like I planned to broadcast my midlife crisis to the whole world. Definitely not to my old coworker’s!”

Maddie snorted. “Midlife crisis? You’re thirty-two.”

“Exactly. It’s a miracle I even made it this long.”

Maddie glared at him.

Another buzz. Notifications shown were from Hen and Bobby primarily. Mercifully Eddie’s treatment meant he was off social media entirely.

FireFam! 

Hen: Buck… Where the hell are you?

Chimney: Oh look, he’s partying again. Real shocker.

Bobby: I thought you said you were done with all of that.

Hen: Did you get another tattoo!? 

Chimney: Matching tattoos. With some random guy. Great decision making as always.

Buck: Good morning to you too.

Hen: You’re half naked in over half these posts! 

Buck: That is none of your concern.

Chimney: You’re lucky the department hasn’t seen this or you’d be screwed. 

Buck: I don’t work for ‘the department’ anymore. And look who grew a spine. I bet hiding behind that screen feels real nice.

Hen: That’s uncalled for Buck.

Read.

Steve’s POV: 

Steve had woken up to over twenty notifications. All of them being alerts that Maddie and Buck had posted something new. 

By the time the sun was up, he’d already seen more of Buck’s night out than all of their posts combined. More than his – fragile – sanity could handle. 

He’d like to say that he tried to ignore it. That he had succeeded and got all his work done. 

But that would be a lie.

Instead he picked up his phone at every single buzz. Every time he thought it was over, another picture was sent to him.

He didn’t know whether to be impressed, exasperated, or concerned at the group's antics. Probably all three.

The worst part? Every single message – even the incoherent ones – had made him smile or laugh.

He was halfway through his second cup of coffee at HQ, phone face down on the desk, pretending to be focused on his work and not  on the blurry picture of a grinning buck wearing a pink plastic crown, when Danny walked in.

Danny’s POV:

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Danny said, dropping a file onto the desk. “What happened after I passed out?”

Steve grunted. “Buck happened.”

Danny blinked. “Ah. Did it finally happen?”

Steve frowned. “Did what happen?” 

“Nevermind.” Danny sighed, waving a hand. “Go on, tell me how Buck kept you up.”

“Just the same as before you went to sleep.” Steve said, shaking his head. “Anyways, that's not important. What is important is that after seeing some of those pictures I think I’m going to try to make it official,” 

Danny froze, eyes going wide. “Oh my god.”

“What?” Steve snapped defensively.

“Nothing! Just– wow, didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

Steve frowned. “It just makes sense. He’s proven that we can be good together. He puts in effort to get along with the team and just fits in.”

Danny, grinning wider, nodded solemnly. “Yeah, yeah, sure – I’m sure you think he fits perfectly. You don’t have to convince me, I think you should go for it!”

Danny waved a hand at him when he tried to reach for a case file. “I got this. Just go tell him, alright? I’ll pretend to be surprised later.”

Steve stared at him, confused at his enthusiasm. “Right… Okay.”

Danny clapped him on the shoulder. “Look at you, finally making progress. I’m proud of you, babe.”

Steve muttered, “You’re unbalanced,” and walked out.

Danny watched him go, sipping his coffee with a grin.

“I better be his best man when they get hitched.” He said to himself.

Chapter Text

Steve’s POV:

By the time Steve had tracked down Buck’s place, he shoved his weird interaction with Danny into the back of his mind. Finally arriving at Buck's house – Thank you FindMyFriends – he hesitated before quickly knocking. 

He wasn’t nervous exactly. He was just hoping for the best, it would just be making it official. It's not like he hadn’t already asked Buck for help on multiple occasions. 

This wasn’t a personal ask anyway. This is just a job offer, nothing else.

The door opened before he could knock again. Buck stood there, hair damp from a recent shower, a faint bruise along his jaw still visible. He looked unfairly put together for someone who should be recovering from a nasty hangover right about now. 

“Steve,” Buck greeted confused, voice low and rough – the only signs of his hangover – he turned to let Steve in “How’d you find out where I live?” 

Buck didn’t seem upset, if anything he sounded amused as he closed the door behind them and gestured to go ahead. “Chin didn’t turn his location off.” Steve shrugged. 

Buck huffed out a laugh shaking his head as they entered the common area. Where Steve could now see the hunched forms of his team. 

Steve turned back to Buck. “Rough night?” he asked, voice filled with amusement. 

“I know you saw the incriminating evidence of just how rough the night was.” Buck deadpanned, mouth twitching up into a smile. Seemingly unable to stop it.

“Fair.” Steve chuckled then he hesitated. “Actually, that’s sort of why I’m here.”

Buck raised an eyebrow, leaning a shoulder against the wall, arms folding over his broad chest, muscles shifting distractingly at movement. “You’re here to talk about my poor life decisions?” 

“No,” Steve said quickly, snorting, then cleared his throat. “I saw the texts you sent and the posts of you and the team and it made me think that we should make things official.” 

Buck blinked. “Official?” 

“Yeah,” Steve said, suddenly aware of how close he was standing to Buck. “I want you on the team. Full time. Five-0 could use someone like you.” 

Buck didn’t answer right away. Steve caught a glimpse of disappointment wash over his face before it cleared as quick as it came. A blank look settled over Buck’s face as he studied Steve. 

“You sure that’s what you want?” Buck finally asked.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.” 

The blank look slid off Buck’s face and he smiled. 

“Alright then. Guess you’re stuck with me again.” 

Steve grinned before he could stop himself and clapped a hand on Buck’s shoulder. “Good. Welcome to the team.”

Buck’s POV:  

For a moment, Buck wasn’t sure if he should laugh, choke, or throw up. 

When Steve had said “make things official”, his heart had surged up into his throat. Hope clawed up his chest faster than he could shove it down. Hope that was stupid, reckless, and dangerous.

Because for one impossible second, he thought Steve meant for them. 

That Steve had finally caught up to what Buck had been desperately trying not to feel since he first caught sight of him again. 

Then Steve continued. 

Steve wanted him alright. For the team. 

And that bright, unbearable, agonizing spark inside his chest snapped right in half.

Of course.

Of course that’s what this was.

Steve didn’t want him.

He wanted what Buck could do.

That was always the way of things.

People liked him best when he was useful.

 When he was bleeding for them. 

When he wore a battered smile.

 When he was breaking himself into pieces to fit whatever they needed.

Pain and sacrifice were the only languages anyone ever asked him to speak.

Silence and distance the price when he failed to deliver.

Buck forced a smile that felt like it was stitched in place with barbed wire.

Steve still wanted him around, just not in the way Buck had stupidly let himself hope for. And Buck would take it.

Like he always does. 

He would take anything Steve gave him and  he would never complain. Not when the alternative was losing him for good this time.

If being wanted meant being used, then fine. 

He could be useful. 

Pain never scared him half as much as being left behind did.

So he swallowed the pitiful echo of his own disappointment and nodded.

“Alright then. Guess you’re stuck with me again.” 

Anything to stay by Steve’s side.

Anything.

Even if it meant burning himself from the inside out.