Time and Place

Time and Place

Background of chicago skyline at night. Overlay of Time & Place, with three four figures to the right and PNZ written to the left. The four figures are Evan Buckley from 9-1-1, and April Sexton, Kelly Severide and Connor Rhodes from Chicago Med and Chicago Fire tv shows.
Art by PNZ

Title: Time & Place
Author: PNZ
Fandom: 9-1-1, Chicago Fire, Chicago Med
Pairings: None (Gen)
Warnings: Character bashings, brief mention/discussion of rape (Wells)
Timeline: 9-1-1: Between S2 &3, departure from canon. Chicago Fire: Season 3 Chicago Med: Season 1. All shows shifted as if taking place at the same time — 9-1-1’s timeline.
Summary: 2 months after the truck fell on him, Bucks feels like he’s been laid low by another bomb. This time, it’s an emotional one and due to his sister. Thankfully, he has friends from other stations–in and out of town–that come to his rescue.


Part I

It had been two months since the bombing. A very long two months. Evan Buckley missed having the ability to walk around freely, without help, without pain. He knew it would be many months before that could happen, but he was tired of it now. He was also tired of being ignored. It seemed like all it took was just about a month or so before he became a nuisance to those he considered family. Around the three week mark, he noticed that it was him instigating all contact, both for rides and just to talk with his work colleagues. Sure, he had friends outside the station, not that anyone there believed it. Even his sister thought his whole life revolved around the 118. It was like they forgot he lived a whole life before LA. 

In any case, after a conversation with one of the firefighters from another station he had befriended, he tried an experiment. He stopped texting and calling first. The other firefighters and his neighbors helped him out with organizing rides to and from therapy sessions and doctor’s appointments. They all agreed to keep it quiet as they wanted to see how long it took his own station to clue in as well. Five weeks later and they still hadn’t.

Maddie had taken it upon herself to berate him every chance she got to change careers and give up on his dreams. She sprinkled the lectures with reminders that he was child in a man’s body and he needed to just get over the trauma and move on. She did this from over the phone and through text, of course. Once she realized he could move around his apartment enough and call for food and grocery delivery, that she didn’t need to be there in person, Maddie also vanished from his physical life. She was like an annoying digital buzz at this point. 

But now. Now this was too much. Buck had been about to leave when he realized that he needed to change the time of his next appointment. The nurse at the front desk had her back to him, but he could hear her clearly.

“Yes, Maddie, he just left. So, today he was working at the parallel bars. He still has pain, doesn’t look like he’s been doing his exercises, from what I can see…”

Buck backed away quietly, almost bumping into the clinic doctor. He quickly put a hand up to stop any words from flowing. In an almost subvocal whisper, “Shh. Follow me quickly.” Buck pulled on the doctor’s sleeve into the next room and closed the door.

“Mr. Buckley? What was that? I have to go—”

“Dr. Shapiro, I’m so sorry about that, but I couldn’t let the nurse at the front desk see you. At this very moment, she’s speaking with my sister about my appointment. The very appointment that just happened—” he took a moment to breathe out, the fury was building so quickly inside of him. “Sorry. I’m just so angry right now. That woman is describing what I did during my appointment without my consent to my sister including her ridiculous opinions on whether or not I’ve done my exercises and probably if I will ever work or walk again like a regular person. It’s clear now where my sister has been getting her information.”

“Wait, what?” Dr. Shapiro’s jaw was hanging open. “What are you talking about?”

Buck huffed and sat down on the chair behind him. “My sister has been nagging me and nattering on about my future career options. She’s going on about how I’ll never be a firefighter again, I have to grow up and choose an adult career now, I need to accept the truth, and so on. But some of the things she’s been saying, like since I’m obviously not putting the effort into it, etc. 

“Your nurse out there was just telling her that I wasn’t doing my exercises and that I wasn’t doing well during the appointment. None of that is true. And how would she know anyway? Anytime I looked over at the clock which is above her desk, she was on the phone or talking to someone.”

“Never mind that she’s violating your privacy and breaking HIPPA,” the doctor added in a resigned tone.

“That too.”

“Am I going to find that she’s done this after every appointment?”

“Probably. She was using the office phone, not her cell.”

“So I should fire her for incompetence as well, since all those calls are recorded.” He shook his head in exasperation. “I’ll call security now and then Human Resources. I’ll be in touch once I know what is happening, Mr. Buckley.”

“Thank you, Dr. Shapiro. I’ll wait until the morning to change my next appointment time, just to be safe, then.” He shook the doctor’s hand and walked out of the room and down to the back entrance. 

He had quite a few calls to make.


LAFD Fire Chief Gael Alonzo was intrigued by this meeting request. Apparently, by the work of three separate firefighters into the hand of his secretary, Firefighter Buckley of the 118 had asked to meet him outside of headquarters at a time convenient for the chief which would not raise suspicion. 

“I would come to you, Chief, but there are too many gossip queens at HQ, and I am just not interested in feeding the flames. Also, I’m going to be taking a long trip very soon, so I’d rather keep my meandering to a minimum. I realize this is a big ask, but what I have to speak to you about is very important. I’ve attempted to go through the correct channels before, and been turned away because of nepotism, false information, and a former coworker’s rumor mongering. I have a folder full of proof to show you. My current cell phone is listed below. Please do not share it or add it to my file—no one else from LA has it. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Gael had his assistant clear his schedule after 3pm. “I have been asked to take a look at something that I might need to bring to a meeting next week. Do you need me to drop you off anywhere?”

Phylis Saks, his assistant of seven years, simply nodded. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m good. I’m meeting a couple of the other assistants for drinks after work today. I’ll see you on Monday, Chief.”

He gave her a quick nod and moved on to his office, mentally preparing himself for the appointments he needed to get through before leaving for what looked to be an interesting meeting.

Gael parked his truck behind Buck’s building, not wanting anyone to ask what the LAFD Chief’s car was doing at a random building not his own during business hours. He texted the man that he was on his way up, a thumbs up emoji was received in response. Upon exiting the elevator a door to the left opened and a dark haired man leaned out, about 6 foot tall. 

“Chief?”

“Yes, is that—”

“Yeah, he’s in here.” The young man stepped back, making way for the chief to pass through into the apartment, closing the door behind them. “I’m Kelly Severide, a friend of his helping out for a bit. I hope you don’t mind that this meeting won’t be private. I mean, you’ll be alone down here, but I have some stuff to do up there.” The young man pointed up toward a loft area.

It was like being smacked in the face with information. What could he do, say no? This wasn’t his home; it was Buckley’s prerogative who stayed and who went, who was part of the meeting and who wasn’t. “Whatever makes him comfortable,” he said aloud. 

“All right.” He waved him on to the couch, where Buckley was sitting with a cup of something. “Can I get you something to drink before I go upstairs? Coffee or tea? Juice?”

“Oh, tea if you have a good strong black blend. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Kelly veered off towards the kitchen to prepare that while Gael moved to sit down with his firefighter.

“Mr. Buckley, I’m sorry it’s taken this long for me to come around again. I hope your recovery and therapy are going well.”

Buckley responded with a dry humorless chuckle. “That’s just it, though, isn’t it? It’s taken everyone a ‘long time’ to come around again.”

“Pardon me?” He took a good look at the blond sitting in front of him. He was healthy, but tired looking. Not just physically, but as if his spirit was drained as well. It took a moment to understand what he meant. “Do you mean—”

“That my so called family hasn’t been around in ages, yes. Look, do I have friends here from other houses and people outside the department? Yes, of course. It’s the only reason I haven’t had to rely on taxis and Uber to get to and from my appointments. Even my sister has decided to ghost me, but that has more to do with me not giving in to her demands and a few other things. That’s a separate topic.” He waved the thought away.

“The 118, though, the people I thought who would stand by me the most? Three weeks was all it took for them to decide I was too much trouble. I decided I would stop wasting time on them as well, especially since two of them were the most at fault for my predicament.”

Eyebrows raised, Gael sat back. Now he was intrigued. “Okay, then. Please elaborate.”

“Working backwards, Howard Han, or Chimney as he prefers to be called, was so busy micro-managing all of—especially me—that our engineer didn’t get to do the checks that they needed to, which meant they didn’t catch the bomb on the truck.”

“Why especially you?” Gael was dreading the answer. He had heard rumors about Han, but there didn’t seem to be any paperwork beyond the mess from Gerard’s reign.

“He had been seeing my sister, Maddie, but there was a mess with her husband and she called it quits with him. He decided to take it out on me, as per usual.”

“As per—what the hell is going on over there? And Han was seeing a married woman?”

“I bring you exhibit A, sir.” Buckley handed over a thick accordion file. “In there you will find copies of all the complaints I filed against Han. Someone blocked them, or deleted them, or whatever. They never went anywhere. You can figure that out. It made for a really toxic workplace. He thinks he’s hilarious when what he is, is cruel. Basically, a lawsuit waiting to happen. 

“Here is part B.” Another accordion folder. “These are the other issues about the firehouse that I tried to get through HR—well, me and others from the 118, they let me have copies when I said I was putting together a folder—that were also blocked. When the therapist I was directed to after that loss at the fairgrounds raped me—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, I tried to speak with someone in HR. They not only turned me away and told me to stop whining, but within minutes the news was already back at the station. Han was teasing me for not being able to keep it in my pants by the time I got back to the station.”

By the time Buckley had finished speaking, Gael had a notepad open and was writing down bullet points of things that needed to be looked into. “This part of that gossip thing you mentioned?”

“Yeah, I’m not the only one it’s happened to. If it’s something innocuous, I know to announce it at the front desk, so that it can be cleared up before the busy bees can start the chain. But if I am walking into the office of someone important, like HR or you, I’d be done for. Even though they haven’t spoken to me in weeks, something like that would have my phone ringing off the hook. And getting Bobby or Chimney in trouble would be their issue, not ‘am I alright?’ or anything of concern for me.”

“Bobby Nash? What is his part in all of this?” he asked indicating all the paperwork.

Buckley sighed, putting his cup down on the side table. “Instead of leaving the investigation—the initial investigation that started the whole mess that led to the bombing? The one about the restaurant?—instead of leaving it to the actual arson squad, Bobby took it upon himself to do some sleuthing. I don’t know all the details, but the kid was taking revenge on everyone that had part in the case.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Stay in your damn lane, Nash,” Gael muttered as he continued to write. “Anything else on the Nash list?”

“He’s a good captain out in the field—listen, I’m just gonna lay it all out there, because I’m out of here.” Buckley gestured to the boxes next to the television and at the bottom of the stairs. “Those same friends I mentioned? They have been very understanding and helped me pack up my place over the last week. Kelly brought me a new phone—of which only you have the number here in LA, so don’t hand that out to anyone, including my sister, or put it in the system—and he’ll be taking me home with him. My new doctor lives in his town. So, what I’m saying is I have nothing left to lose here. 

“But back to Nash. Bobby is a good captain in the field, he can keep focus and direct the masses. What he doesn’t excel at is management in the house. He’s let Chimney run wild, which is why no one wants to stay at the 118, or transfer in. If he didn’t have someone protecting him somewhere, there’s be umpteen harassment complaints, I promise you. To get the full picture, you need to read through all the copies I’ve given you there. Then call me with questions. Or email, I’ve put that there as well.” He pointed to a contact sheet at the top of one of the piles. 

“I guess I shouldn’t even ask if I can convince you to stay.” Gael shook his head. It was such a shame. From what he’d read in Buckley’s file, he was everything they wanted from a firefighter. 

“Well, no. If I did stay, I would definitely need to transfer, and I can’t do that. Not with the character assassination that Chimney did to me. And more importantly, that no one stopped. Also in the complaint folder. Seriously, it’s all in there.” 

Gael took a few of the complaints out and read them, his mood plummeting the more he went on. “Jesus, this is…he would have been brought before the board.”

“You probably haven’t even gotten to the good stuff, yet.”

Gael already felt the migraine coming on.

“Listen. Do me a favor and text me when you arrive. I’ll keep you updated with what’s happening with…this.” He waved at the box with all the file folders.

Buckley shook his hand. “Thank you.” He handed him one last envelope. “I guess I should give you this. It’s my official resignation.”

“Are you leaving tomorrow? Tonight?”

Kelly came back downstairs. “I think we’re going to eat some light food now, finish up the last bits and then leave in the morning. If you could hold off on submitting that until Monday, it would be great. Some of the guys are coming by tomorrow to supervise the moving truck, but we wanted to be out of state before his resignation hit the wire, or anyone saw his stuff being carted around by mistake. We’re thinking we’ve pushed our luck far enough as it is.”

“No problem. Good luck to both of you.”


Part II

The drive to Chicago took longer than expected. Or perhaps not. With his injury, Buck knew that they would have to stop off now and then so he could get out and stretch. He needed to do his daily exercises in the hotels and get actual rest, so there was no driving through the night. Kelly didn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m on leave at the moment.” Kelly’s tone didn’t really invite more questions, but Buck was itching to ask. He must have indicated his curiosity somehow, because his friend just sighed. Tapping the steering wheel, the story came out. At first, it was slow and in somewhat scattered form, but finally he pulled himself together and started over. “You remember Shay, right? Paramedic on my shift? My best friend?”

“Yeah, she’s been in the background of a few of our calls.”

“Yeah, she always thought you were hilarious.” Buck noticed the fingers tightening on the steering wheel. They were about six hours out from Kelly’s place, so they had plenty of time to get through whatever it was his friend needed to say.

“Kelly, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, no, I think you need to know. I think I need to tell you—tell someone. I don’t know. I just know that at least you’ll understand why I’m so upset, and why getting out of town was the best thing.” He took another breath. “She died a little while ago. There was a fire—” he stopped. Buck reached out and squeezed his arm, trying to show some support, but they were driving. 

“Do we need to pull over for this?”

“No, no. I’m okay, sorry. Let me just tell you.” He proceeded to fill Buck in on the fire and how he fell apart afterwards. He told him about going in for the surgery he needed, and that he was taking this time to recover and mourn. “I needed to be away from the station for that, though. I just—there’s this one person there that is so in your face—I couldn’t imagine myself healing with her anywhere around me.”

“Would this be the Gabby that Shay would complain was stalking your friend Carson?”

“Casey, yeah. It’s pretty bad. You’ll probably see it for yourself…well, once you’re out of the hospital. I have a feeling Connor is going to have a bit to say about your leg once all the tests are run and whatnot.” 

“Great, thanks. Something to look forward to.” Buck let his head hit the headrest in defeat. “I think I’m going to nap for a bit. Wake me when we’re almost there, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” He flipped the radio on and they drove on in silence. 

Dr. Connor Rhodes all but slammed the chart down on the counter in front of him, grunting when his friend and coworker Nurse April Sexton backhanded his arm. “No damaging the pads, doc.”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just—you look. His doctors in LA totally missed what the hardware was doing to him. He should have had those screw removed 6 weeks ago. And when I spoke to him about treatment? Not once did he mention anything about VTE prevention or IPC devices. He didn’t know he needed anything to prevent issues after surgery.”

“Wait, what? Nothing on preventative—”

“Nothing. Nada. Zero.”

April flipped through the scans to see what had set Connor off, and found it 30 seconds later. “Oh, wow. I can see clots starting to form there, by the top left screw.”

“Yeah, I need to go speak with him about it. It means yet another surgery for him. I was just…”

“Trying to calm down so he didn’t think you were angry at him?”

Connor directed a sheepish smile April’s way. “Pretty much.”

“I think you’re good, so go ahead. He’s waited long enough for clear and direct answers, don’t you?”

Grabbing the pad back, Connor squared his shoulders and headed into his patient’s room. 

Buck was really tired of the hospital. Tired of the beds, tired of the food, tired of the tests. His head was spinning a mile a minute wondering what else was fucked sideways due to Maddie’s interference. Was someone in his regular doctor’s office ratting on him too? Had someone else betrayed him in a way he hadn’t even thought about yet? A knock on the door startled him out of his depressing thoughts. 

“Hi, you okay?”

“No, not really, my mind is a hot mess trying to figure out if something new is wrong. There were a few issues with doctor’s and nurses following directions and giving information to and from the right people. You know, me. The patient.”

Connor went to say something but stopped. Buck held up a hand and just continued speaking. “Yeah, it’s as ridiculous as it sounds. My sister is really good at manipulating people into doing what she wants. She knows how to cry on command. And if that doesn’t work, she’ll flash someone to get the desired result. At least that’s what she says.” He held up his hands, palms up, in a helpless gesture. “I have no idea where any of it comes from, but I already caught one nurse violating HIPPA by reporting stuff to her.”

“So then some of this probably makes more sense, but it’s still neglect on the doctor’s part. Mr. Buckley—”

“Buck, please.”

“Buck. You have blood clots forming around the screws, just like I thought might be happening when I saw what hardware they had inserted into your foot. There’s been reports put out about issues with it from many sources, which is why them not removing it after the first month was up is alarming. At that point, they could have gone back in and replaced the screws or gone an alternate route and done the outer stabilizer.”

“No one, not one person mentioned anything about blood clots to me.”

“Not even at physiotherapy?”

“Nope. And for the first month I even had other first responders, a couple of them paramedics, taking me to my appointments.”

Connor blew out a frustrated breath, which Buck totally empathized with. He, too, was frustrated with the entire situation. “Does this mean I’m getting scheduled for surgery?”

“Yes, as soon as I can fit you in. I see that you’ve listed Kelly Severide as your Power of Attorney and Next of Kin to make all of your decisions? The date on the paperwork is all recent.”

“Well, I didn’t want it to be anyone from LA. And I need to make sure that no one here calls anyone in LA, regardless about how they feel about family or firefighter houses or whatever. I know someone might recognize me, but my wishes are that only Kelly is given access.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll speak with the nurse to make sure everything is set, let her know you want restricted access. She’ll come in to speak with you about it.”

“Thanks,” Buck replied, the tension leaving his shoulders. “Kelly should be back here in about half an hour. Said he had to go run a few errands.”

“No problem.”

By the time Kelly had returned Buck was dozing off. He peeked into the room, dropped his bag and then walked over to the nurses station. “Hey April, how’s my friend doing?” 

“Hey Kelly, he’s holding up okay, but not so happy that he has to have surgery.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, we both figured that would be the end result. He told me what he suspected about his sister and interference with the doctors and whatnot. It was so messed up back there. You have no idea how bad—did he bring up restricted access?”

“Yes. Here’s the paperwork, please fill out what you can. I was going to speak with him about it, but he dozed off. He’s scheduled for tomorrow morning, fasting starting at midnight tonight.”

“No problem, I can do most of this. Just—no gossip about him. No pictures or posts on social media. For now, just me in here.” He quickly went through the form and filled out what he could.

“Why would anyone post—”

“Buck said the same thing to me,” Connor said, interrupting April.

Kelly looked up from the form, a surprised look on his face. “Oh, really? Huh. Do you remember a few months ago,” he began, then lowered his voice so as to not be overheard, “the bombings in LA? And then there was the firetruck that was overturned?”

“Vaguely. I was in surgery that night, so I wasn’t able to really watch television. I heard something about it afterwards. Civilians helped lift the truck off a first responder…” Connor trailed off and turned to look at Buck’s room. “You mean…?”

“Yeah, he was the one under the truck.”

“And he’s sure he doesn’t want us to call his firehouse?” April asked in skeptical tone.

“You mean the firehouse full of people who stopped calling and visiting once he stopped being in front of their faces? Yeah, I’m sure. That place—let me tell you, if you looked up the term ‘toxic workplace environment’ in the dictionary, you’d find that firehouse listed in the top 10.”

Connor handed April the paperwork Kelly had just filled out. “Anything else needed on there? I think Kelly needs to come with me to explain to Sharon what he just told us.”

“You know what?” Kelly cut in. “I’m going to wake Buck for second, let him know what’s up, and then go with you up to Sharon. The way this conversation is going, I have a feeling, she’ll want to speak to either Chief Alonzo or his doctor’s at LA General.”

“Right. Buck has a right to be a part of that decision, without a doubt,” April agreed. “I’m going to come with you and stay with him while you two go on up. Also, he needs to sign this form.”

Kelly led the way, knowing that this time, the hospital was on his friend’s side and would protect him.


Gael put the last file on the desk, breathing out heavily. “Phylis, mind coming in here for a moment?”

His assistant entered a few minutes later, legal pad and pen at the ready. “Door open or closed?” Phylis asked, all business as per usual.

“Closed would be best. Don’t want anyone eavesdropping on this.” Phylis went ahead and closed the door. Sitting down opposite him, she perched at the edge of the chair, pen at the ready. “Right. This is going to be…heavy. We have a problem, and it starts at the top and trickles down.”

Phylis cursed under her breath. “How many of them does this include?”

“How many of who?”

She shot him a disappointed look. “Your deputies, don’t play stupid, sir. I see all and hear all. From what I gather, at least one is corrupt, but I hadn’t finished gathering enough evidence yet.”

“Oh, thank heavens I don’t have to convince you of anything.” He threw a folder her way. “These are my notes so far.”

Gael watched as Phylis took her time reading through what he handed her, taking her own notes. Her facial acrobatics were entertaining, but also did not bode well for what he knew was coming. What would he do without her? Completely fall apart, probably. Lord knew his wife thought Phylis was the best thing to happen to his office. In her early 50s, Phylis had her finger on the heartbeat of everything and everyone within the LAFD. She also was a master organizer; nothing was out of place in the chief’s office, which made keeping his day in order a breeze. Phylis was quite the gatekeeper. Everyone knew not to upset the dragon in the outer office. Well, anyone with sense. 

When she finally came up for air, he had already prepared his own legal pad, ready for her orders. Phylis would tell him what the next steps needed to be.

“Right.” She put down the pen. “So, you’ve already narrowed it down to two problem deputy chiefs. One that seems to have a grudge specifically against Candidate Buckley, as he was then—we’ll get back to that in a moment. Then you have another DC that is jamming up the works with HR and protecting firefighters that don’t deserve protection at all. That one stems from that disgrace of a firefighter, Gerard. It seems, though, that they are doing more harm in more areas than just protecting the firefighters Gerard wronged; here are complaints about a therapist raping her patients that were thrown to the side, not to mention hazing and abuse of power by other firefighters.” Gael would not be surprised if Phylis started breathing fire, she was that furious. “Why is this only coming to light now?”

Massaging his forehead in an attempt to stave off a headache, he replied, “Buckley, the one that handed me all of the complaints he submitted and never got any traction on? He also submitted the complaints that fellow firefighters never received any answers to. That’s what’s in this pile over here.” He pat a pile to his left. “That’s who my meeting was with yesterday. I spent all day researching and verifying what was in those folders. I am so…” He took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. “Evan Buckley is what I wish every firefighter would strive to be in this department, you know? Dn’t get me wrong, I don’t think he’s perfect, just what I want our people to be, do you understand? But instead, he’s been driven out. Right now, he’s on the road to his new home, cutting off every person he’s met here in LA, including his sister.”

“Seriously? Wasn’t she involved in some murder attempt—”

“Yes, that’s also another story that involves a firefighter from the 118, a house that needs a deep clean. In any case,” he waved the thought away, “he’s lost his faith in us, and I don’t blame him. His sister violated his rights,” he pointed to another folder, “and you’ll understand more about his shift violating his trust after you read through this pile here.” He pointed back to the complaints. “It’s just…I’m so disappointed. Sad. Furious.”

“Right, well, we best get started. We need to find everyone who is involved from those two DC idiots down that’s involved in ruining our beautiful fire department.” Her steely glare was something to be seen.

“Yes ma’am.” Gael felt like he should be saluting her.

5 Comments

  1. You’ve made the different threads equally intriguing. I’m happy to see a confident Buck taking control. 🙂 I also like the characterization of Alonzo and find myself interested in how the investigation shakes out.

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