Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

LUNGS STOP BREATHING (all my fibers say to run away)

Chapter Two

Evan Buckley has a schedule whether he likes it or not. Typically, it’s firmly in the not column, the man all but ready to climb out of his skin when his alarm goes off in the morning. It’s like he’s ready to vibrate out of his body at all times, an unrest buzzing that he can’t quite put a name to. Pulling the collar of his shirt away from his neck, he tries not to fidget, but finds it difficult. It’s worse than most days, like the ones where Evan nearly goes to his secret storage unit on Bullfinch Ave. where he keeps his bike out of the watchful eyes of those around him.

“Evan, stop fidgeting.” Margaret whispers as she passes him, carrying a bottle of wine that she had just procured from the fridge. “Your collar’s fine.”

Evan disagrees, but he knows there’s really no use arguing. It feels like it’s choking him, holding his throat until he can’t breathe, but he wonders if that is just how he’s felt his entire life. The figure next to him nudges his side and gives him a look that clearly states ‘can you believe we have to do this?’ which makes him feel a little better, but he places his hands under the table and sits on them all the same.

The entire situation is weird. They barely traveled growing up, and now the entire Buckley clan is around a table in an AirBnb in Los Angeles, pretending that this is something that happens regularly. Sitting on his hands is helping settle the nerves, Evan doing his best to breathe through his nose.

He has a schedule. And rules. These were often explained rather forcefully when he was younger, but somehow the railings became natural as life went on. He spent his life unable to breathe, ready to crawl out of his skin, and that was okay because it was what was expected of him. Because there was no room for anything else.

“I want to make a toast.” Phillip says, scooting the chair out from the table, the wood scraping against the tiles, scratching at Evan’s ears. “For this momentous occasion.”

At five in the morning, Evan’s alarm goes off. He presses the snooze button exactly one time, eventually rolling his exhausted body out of bed and down the stairs to Maddie’s old room, that his parents converted to a gym when she moved out.

“We all know why we’re here and in L.A., but—” Phillip chokes for a moment, coughing into his hand. Evan can see the water in his eyes and for a moment remembers why he does everything he does. “But this has been a long time coming. I think we can all agree.” Those around the table laugh.

After running for forty-five minutes, Evan switches to weights. He tries to keep as quiet as he can while his family sleeps, setting the heavier and heavier weights down gently after each rep. He goes until his muscles scream, until the buzzing under his skin quiets. Until the voices that he’s fought in his head his entire like stop scream.

“We are here, not for our first time in a hospital,” Phillip continues and the laughter continues. “Certainly not our first. But for a special one. Because our Daniel is finally getting his transplant!”

Whoops around the table grow and Evan has to do his best not to flinch at the noise, his hands starting to lose feeling. Daniel turns to him, a half-hearted smile on his face, like he knows. His older brother always has, no matter the situation. It’s enough to quell that voice in his head that is a little too vicious, a little too loud for his own well-being. Parts.

“All the tests, all the waiting—”

Waiting. Evan tilts his head down. It isn’t an explicit dig at him, but enough to sting. It would’ve been sooner, if he hadn’t broken the schedule and been a little bit reckless. Always reckless. Selfish. Not thinking of what he was made for.

After working out, Evan takes a shower and quickly grabs a protein bar from the cupboard. He’s never been great at cooking, the majority of his meals coming from leftovers from his parents or something that comes in bar form. He gets ready for the day, messing with his hair long enough to get his curls to tame because his mother has never really liked the fact that it made him always look young. Something about youth and hospitals.

“—and finally we’re here! Daniel getting his transplant, and from none other than his younger brother, Evan.”

People continue to cheer and Evan isn’t entirely sure why. It’s not a surprise that the kidney would come from him, it was always the plan, it was what he was meant to do. Bowing his head under the scrutiny, Evan gives the tablecloth a smile for something to do, feeling Daniel knock his knuckles against his thigh under the table. When Evan looks at his brother, he’s giving him an encouraging look, as if to say it is a big deal. How can it be, if it was what he was born to do?

“Our miracle baby.” Margaret assents, and Evan thinks it’s supposed to sound loving, but that nasty voice starts to grow.

Parts parts parts.

He then drives fifteen minutes to the accounting firm, because his job can’t be dangerous. It can’t be unpredictable. He has to be careful. He has a purpose. A purpose he was born for, that he can’t step out of line because of.

“Because on Friday, our Evan is giving his kidney to Daniel!”

The cheers grow louder and Evan gives everyone as big of a smile as he can.

Evan Buckley has a schedule.

Whether he likes it or not.

*

“What happened?”

The words are out of his mouth before he even is able to get through the doors of the hospital. His heart has been pounding ever since he got Bobby’s text, his mind shutting down and going into a plan of attack with Christopher now distraught and Carla in his kitchen. He couldn’t leave with Christopher in the state he was in, texting Bobby he’d be there as soon as he could. It took three separate arguments on whether he could come, a meltdown, and a promise to visit Buck in the morning before he could even consider leaving.

This also allowed Eddie to steadily grow a panic on his way to the hospital, his heart racing faster than the speeds in his truck. He tried calling Bobby once he was alone, but the phone went straight to voicemail three separate times. Running his hands through his hair, Eddie presses the pedal a little too strongly to be safe. He’s never considered himself an imaginative person, but it’s currently running rampant. Every outcome of Buck’s surgery runs through his mind, from bad to worse to… unthinkable.

Which is why he isn’t entirely sure why he’s thinking about it.

Eddie runs through the events that have happened in the past twelve hours and he can’t bring himself to make sense of any of it. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it was a dangerous call, sure, but they had done everything right.

When no one answers right away, Eddie repeats himself. “What the hell happened?” he urges, blinking a few times in order to keep anything as distracting as tears away.

Then he finally takes the scene in. Why no one is answering him.

It seems, no one can.

Chimney holds Maddie close, her eyes filling with tears just as quickly as they fall down her cheeks. Hen looks as stunned as ever, Karen now at her side, just as Athena is at Bobby’s. The man is still, rigid, hollow. It’s a face Eddie recognizes in himself, the depths of despair running him dry.

It isn’t lost on Eddie that everyone has their person. The person you need in order to get through this sort of thing, and yet there was no one next to him. Not the person he leaned on, no matter the situation, he wasn’t there. He has to fight the very real and very cruel thoughts running through his mind, asking the world why he doesn’t ever get to keep his people. Chin trembling, Eddie does his best to collect himself, tape himself back up so he won’t come shattering into pieces all around him.

There was a moment once when he and Buck were sitting in the kitchen, the noise from the television faint in the background where they had been watching the Dodgers after putting Christopher to bed. He seemed content leaning against the counter, a beer to his lips, head raised to the ceiling. Buck often is lost in his head, but this time seemed different. A small smile quirks his lip up, giving his expression a sense of peace Eddie wasn’t often familiar with. He asked him what he was thinking about, in hopes to get an answer for such an expression, but Buck merely smiled and said he was thinking about something Bobby talked to him about.

He never got an answer.

“Please.” Eddie says, not above begging at this point. He understands everyone is wrapped in their grief, but it feels like a full chokehold at this point. “Please, just say it.”

In the end, it’s Bobby who says something. Because it’ll always be Bobby in these moments of pain, pulling himself out of his own tragedy to reach a hand out to others. “He’s not dead, Eddie.” Is the first sentence.

Eddie thinks it’s meant to be comforting, but it only makes his panic ratchet up. The unending questions, the need to understand the situation – no one is giving him answers and he has half a mind to just scour the hospital until he finds Buck himself.

Bobby seems to catch on, because he stands, Athena’s hands not leaving his. “His doctor came to give an update. They—” Bobby runs a hand down his face, breaking for just a second so that Eddie knows whatever words are about to destroy. “They don’t think he has a good chance of waking up.”

Taking a step back, Eddie puts his hands up. “Wha- wait. I-I don’t understand.”

Because he doesn’t.

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t understand the words in that placement. They don’t belong together, they shouldn’t be one right after another. He goes to tell Bobby this, to tell him that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s as if his words won’t come out right. Everything tilts, everything shifts, and in an instant, everything is different.

“No.” is what he responds with.

It’s all he really can. Because it’s wrong. It’s wrong what Bobby’s saying, it’s wrong what they all are saying. There’s no universe where Buck wouldn’t wake up. Buck once told him the Universe was screaming at him and he refused to listen, but Eddie thinks in this moment, it’s the opposite. Eddie is screaming at the Universe and it better fucking listen.

“Eddie—” Hen starts, but he doesn’t give her even a second to finish her sentence.

“No!” Eddie shouts.

He knows he’s losing it. That he’s unraveling before their eyes.

It occurs to Eddie that none of them have ever seen him like this. Eyes feral and panicked, tears streaming down his face, flush creeping on his neck as he collapses under the weight of it all. There’s only one person who ever truly has, the only one he trusted enough to comfort him and bring him back.

That person isn’t here.

Buck isn’t here and he feels the need to tear something apart. He wishes that he had his bat so he could take it to the shitty waiting room chairs, the need for his anger to come out in violence stronger than he’s felt before. It makes him shake with the need to do something, instead everyone is staring at him like he’s a bomb. Maybe that’s true.

What else could he be when his entire world has been destroyed?

Then, a figure moves in front of him. Eddie recoils, ready to throw everything he has at them. The anger, the cruelty in the world that he shifts to someone else, and then Maddie comes into view. She places a gentle hand against his cheek, the warmth from her fingertips dethawing the cold ice that has poured down his back. “Eddie,” she says softly.

He’s only heard that tone toward one person before. The person who loved her the most through almost her entire life.

The fight drains from him almost instantly. His body is rigid and tense, as if he’s preparing to run at any given moment, but he remains still. His eyes flicker to those in the room, their terrified faces in shock as they stare at the scene. In a quick, dark moment, he realizes that everyone is here except the two people who should be. Who never were. Eddie wonders where the Buckleys are, in L.A. and still not able to show up for their son.

Eddie hates them. He hates them. He puts all his anger toward the Universe, toward lightning, toward doctors towards those people and feels no remorse.

“Eddie, if he doesn’t—” Maddie bites her cheek as she tries to get through it and Eddie thinks he’s selfish for making her be the one to calm her down. “If he doesn’t wake up, the doctors say it has to be our call. O-Or—”

When the realization hits him, it’s as if he’s been struck by lightning again. He feels it in his hands, in his feet, in his brain – everything stills and slows.

“My call.”

He asked to be Buck’s medical proxy. Eddie never really thought of the other side of it.

It’s all he’s thinking now.

*

“What are you doing here?”

Evan is taken out of a thrilling article regarding the life of green sea turtles to the sound of a small voice. There’s something in the back of his mind that feels like it’s familiar – that he should know who that person is – but when he looks up, he’s staring at a kid. A cute kid. A really cute kid, actually, with soft brown curls and red-framed glasses that are attached to a string. The bed seems far too big for him, like it’ll swallow him up, a pair of crutches leaning against the bed.

Lifting his phone up, Evan waves it a bit and says, “I’m currently learning about sea turtles.”

The kid rolls his eyes in a fantastically dramatic way. “No, why are you in the hospital? You shouldn’t be here.”

Evan thinks that’s an odd thing to say, but then again, kids have their own logic, so he rolls with it. “I’m having surgery Friday, so I’m getting a bunch of tests to make sure I’m still good to go. What are you doing here?”

“Same,” he sighs, longsuffering enough so that it tells Evan this isn’t the kid’s first round and his heart clenches at that thought. “I told my dad I’m fine, but he said I have to have surgery again.”

“Well, I’m sure your dad just wants you to be as healthy as possible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles and Evan struggles not to be entirely endeared by it. “Don’t tell him that, he’ll say it forever.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

“Well, don’t die.” The kid says with too much seriousness for their conversation. It makes Evan a little on edge, like there’s something he should be understanding, but can’t quite connect. “He says I’ll feel much better after, but recovery sucks.”

“Well, you got me there.” Evan answers honestly. “Recovery is the worst.”

The kid’s eyes light up. “This isn’t your first surgery?”

Evan shakes his head. “Not even close.” He says, a little too quiet.

No, this is not his first surgery. The number of times he’s been flown around the world to different specialists and cut open are a little fuzzy around the edges, but he has enough scars on his body to remind him. Even the one on his leg that goes up to his knee, that he can’t quiet remember where it came from.

“Me too.” The kid says, smiling, as if to say they’re in it together now. The two of them, alone on beds in the hospital’s clinic. Evan can’t help but return it, feeling a little more comforted than just moments before. He can’t help but wonder what that says about him, that he craves attention so much, he’d take it from anywhere. That’s what his mom would say, anyway. She has said that. “What’s your name?”

“Evan.”

The kid makes a face. “You do not look like an Evan.”

He can’t help it – a laugh bubbles out of his throat before he can stop it. “I don’t look like an Evan?” He repeats, the absurdity of it all hitting him. If he wasn’t Evan, who would he be? “Then what do I look like?”

The question is pondered with as much seriousness as this kid can hold, apparently. His face scrunches up in concentration and then he sighs. “I don’t know. But definitely not Evan.” He states as if it’s the worst name in the world. “I’m Christopher.”

Evan continues to laugh, unable to stop himself. “Nice to meet you, Christopher, even if you don’t like my name. I didn’t have much say in it. My family came up with it.”

“Where is your family?” Christopher asks, peering around. “Are they waiting? Why wouldn’t they be here?”

The laughter stops almost immediately. He wants to ask the kid what he means by that, but Evan knows he needs to get a grip. He can’t be arguing with the world’s cutest kid, even it everything feels slightly off. “They’re not big fans of hospitals. I took an Uber here.”

“That so dumb.” Christopher scoffs. “My Tia just went to make a call, and if my dad wasn’t working, he’d be here.”

Evan smiles to himself. “Your dad sounds pretty great, even if he’s telling you that you have to get surgery.”

“He is.” Christopher presses, as if he needs Evan to know.

So he tells him. This kid who interrupted his knowledge of turtles goes into a spiel about how his dad – Eddie, apparently – is the best dad in the world. And the best firefighter in the world.

“I kinda always wanted to be a firefighter,” Evan muses as Christopher has to take a breath from the long-winded rant about his dad. Evan thinks if he ever thought about his own father that way, dipping his head in shame when the answer is immediate. “I liked the idea of being able to be physical, but also help people.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Too dangerous.” Evan shrugs. “I can’t with how much I’m in and out of hospitals.”

“But after your surgery, you could, right?” Christopher asks with all the innocence only a child could bring. “Once your recovery’s over, you could do it.”

“I appreciate the confidence, kid, but that’s not in the cards for me.” Evan says, only a little sad and more resigned. “This isn’t gonna be my last surgery.”

Christopher’s eyebrows furrow and he’s staring at him, clearly not buying it. Evan knows he can’t go into the intricacies of being a ‘savior child’ with a kid, so he decides simply to beam at him. “I appreciate the confidence, though. Seeing as your dad is the best firefighter in the world, so clearly you have high standards.”

“He would be better with a partner, though. That’s at least what his old Captain used to say before they got the new one. Captain Bobby used to say he tried finding someone but it was never the right fit.”

“That makes sense,” Evan muses. “You can’t force chemistry between people.”

“Plus, my dad is grouchy.”

Evan barks another laugh at that, unable to stop himself. “Well, well, well, the amazing Eddie has a flaw.”

Christopher giggles, his laugh warming the room and suddenly it doesn’t feel so bad to be in the hospital anymore. “I kinda wish he had someone. He’s not good at making friends.”

“Strange, because you are so good at it!”

That spurs Christopher on more, enough so that Evan can feel the gazes of several people in the clinic turn toward them. He can’t bring himself to care, seeing as the hospital is not something known for laughter. It isn’t until a doctor comes up to his bed and tells him he’s free to go does the smile falter on his face. He looks at Christopher and gazes around the room. “Uh,” Evan starts, not sure why he’s so against leaving the kid to his own tests.

Evan tells himself it’s because he doesn’t like the idea of the kid being by himself while he waits for tests, and not because of the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. That lie is thrown out the window when he faces Christopher once more, the bubbly kid now drawn cold. The kid stares at him, eyes wide and owlish, a tinge of fear at the edges. “Please don’t leave me.” He says quietly, and they look like they’re filling with tears. “You promised. Please don’t break your promise.”

The words are startling. It nearly knocks Evan backwards at the pain that’s pouring through the small child, and he turns back to the doctor, pleading. The doctor’s face is unreadable. “That’s not your choice, sir.” He says, holding the clipboard that Evan knows has his test results on it. “You’re not in a place to make that choice.”

Evan frowns at that, because he simply doesn’t understand. “I-I just want to make sure he has someone here before I leave.”

“No, please.” Christopher says, now a tear rolling down his cheek. “You can’t leave. You promised. You aren’t a liar. You’ve never broken a promise.”

“I—”

“Dios, that took much longer than I wanted.” A woman says, shuffling toward Christopher’s bed. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, she sigh, “So sorry, my dear, I hope I didn’t miss anything.”

Like a rubber band, the tension seems to snap.

As if he hadn’t been pleading seconds before, Christopher smiles at him, eyes dry. “I’ve made a new friend, he’s been keeping me company!”

Evan whirls and the doctor is gone. When he faces Christopher, his expression is nothing like it had been seconds before. It’s bright and alive, filled with the joy from before.

“Did you now?” The woman says, eyeing Evan a little suspiciously. He can’t blame her, but he feels the desperate need to make a good impression so he clears his throat.

“Evan.” He says, putting a hand out. “We both were waiting on test results and have a similar interest in sea turtles and firefighting.”

“No one can remain a stranger with this one.” She says lovingly, ruffling Christopher’s hair. “I appreciate you keeping him company.”

“He kept me company too,” Evan offers. “Waiting on tests is always super boring.”

“Right?” Christopher exclaims, dramatically throwing his hands up. “Can you give Tia Pepa the link to the sea turtles article you were reading? I want to read about them too.”

The woman fondly shakes her head, but offers her phone. Evan quickly pulls up the article and hands it back with a sheepish smile. “When you spend a lot of time in hospitals, your interests get wide in an effort to pass the time.”

She merely chuckles at him. “I don’t know about that, I just think some people like to learn.”

“Evan!”

Evan startles at the call, wondering who could possibly know him in this hospital, but calming when he sees Daniel jogging over to where he is. People often said that he and Daniel could be twins if the light was right, from their blond curls to piercing blue eyes. Evan often joked that when planning his DNA to help, they wanted to take no chances and make sure they were as alike as possible, though no one in his family found it as funny as he did. Especially his mother.

“Hey Danny,” He says with a smile. Before moving toward his brother, Evan returns to Christopher. “It was really nice meeting you. Good luck with your surgery.”

Christopher nods. “And make sure to wake up from yours.”

Well, that may be the most ominous thing he’s ever heard a kid say, so Evan really isn’t sure how to respond to it. He chalks it up to that this is a kid and kids are often weird and mysterious in their own way, trying to ignore the way his skin prickles and chest aches at the words.

“I can’t believe they let you come here by yourself!” Daniel sighs, shaking his head. “You need to stick up for yourself against them more.”

Evan claps his brother on the shoulder and leads him toward the exit before the two can make too much of a fuss in the hospital. “I didn’t even ask them, they wouldn’t want to come. All it would’ve done was make them feel guilty about not going. You should’ve seen Mom’s face when I left without asking – pure relief.”

“It’s kinda their job. If they’re gonna make such a big deal about everything, the very least they can do is go to both of our appointments.”

“It’s different and you know it.” Evan states and they leave the hospital, the warm, sticky L.A. air greeting them. He closes his eyes and feels the sun on his skin, but for some reason it feels cold. His entire body shivers and he wraps his arms around him a little tighter. Daniel eyes the movement, concern flooding his face. “Your appointments are important because you’re the one who’s got to watch all your stats. I just got to make sure all mine are in the healthy range.”

“You’re having surgery too and I just think—”

“Danny, I really can’t have this argument right now.” Evan says, squeezing his eyes shut. The headache that’s been between his eyes all day is back with a vengeance, making the world tilt in ways he doesn’t care for. “It doesn’t bother me. So drop it.”

“You can say it doesn’t bother you, even though I know it does, but if you want to lie about that, I’ll say it bothers me.”

“That’s because you’re the best big brother in the world.” Evan laughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You’re always looking out for me.”

“I think you got that backwards, Ev.” Daniel says softly. “Oh, by the way, Maddie has asked me to ask you to stop glaring at Doug. We get it, you don’t like him.”

“I don’t like him because he’s an asshole.”

Daniel laughs. “Yeah, well. You’re not gonna be able to repair your relationship with Maddie if you constantly look at her husband like you want to murder him.”

Evan stops walking for a second.

That sentence seemed wrong. Repair his relationship with Maddie? He loves Maddie, it’s the person he loves the most, she—

Evan can’t remember the last time the two of them spoke about anything other than surgery or the weather.

He dips his head down. “Fine. But I still maintain he’s a dick.”

“As is your right.”

The two of them make their way through the city streets, Evan unsure of where Daniel is leading them. He’d taken out his phone to grab another Uber, but Daniel seems content to simply lead them through the city streets.

After a few minutes of companionable silence and nothing more then the bustle of city life to greet them. “You don’t have to do it, you know.” Daniel says, breaking the bubble they’ve found themselves in.

“Huh?” Evan asks, attention taken by the skyscrapers around them. “Do what?”

“You know what.”

Evan stops. “Daniel. What are you talking about?”

“You don’t have to give everything anymore, Evan. You’ve done enough. I’ll love you anyway. I’ll love you always.”

Evan stops, thankfully not in the middle of a crosswalk because he isn’t sure how he’d be able to walk again. “Stop it. You need to be serious.”

“I am serious.” Daniel says, continuing to lead him through the city streets.

“You need this or you could die.”

“This isn’t a matter of life and death, Evan.” Daniel states.

“Actually, it is!” Evan shouts, jogging to catch up with him. “If you don’t have this surgery, you will die!”

“No, I won’t. You don’t have to give everyone pieces of themselves and call it love. If someone loves you – really loves you – they want you whole. They don’t ask for whatever you can give. They just love you.”

“Daniel, stop.” Evan snaps, grabbing his older brother’s shoulder and forcing him to turn around. His brother doesn’t even falter, his expression unreadable once they’re face-to-face. “What the hell are you saying? Of course I’m giving you—”

“You know, sperm donation isn’t life or death. There are other options.”

Evan recoils a bit, blinking. “What the – am I having a stroke? Are you having a stroke? Are we having communal strokes?”

Daniel sighs. “Giving pieces of yourself isn’t love. Those who care want you whole.”

“Daniel, what the hell are you—”

There’s a siren that breaks the tension between the two of them, Evan not realizing how close they’d gotten to each other. So close that he almost feels like he’s looking in the mirror, the lines on Daniel’s face mirroring his own, the blue in his eyes just a little too exact to be his. “You can’t love in pieces, Buck.”

There’s a horn and Evan leaps out of the way. A firetruck rushes past them, 118 emblazoned on the side.

*

The room is terrifyingly quiet.

No, that’s not entirely accurate. It’s loud with machinery, with the gentle whoosh of air being forced into Buck’s lungs, the beeping of the heart monitor that is steady. It’s the only thing that Bobby really can focus on to keep himself from completely spiraling, the steady beep. One right after another. Consistent. Alive.

Exhaling a breath that he’d been holding since the incident, Bobby reaches his hands out against the  ,fabric of the hospital bed, stopping short before grabbing Buck’s. He stares at Buck’s hands, still and pale, the purple bruising underneath his skin growing more and more apparent as minutes. Bobby licks his lips, trying to piece himself together when he knows there is no hope in doing so.

He is alone.

Alone with Buck, alone with the machines, alone with the thoughts that have been threatening to push him over the edge for a while now. They say in AA, when you’re sober and not thinking about the disease, it’s growing stronger under your skin. Waiting for a crack in the armor, waiting for the time when that resilience is no longer possible.

He feels that beast now, thrumming in his veins, desperate and loud, clawing to get out. He tries to push it out of his mind, but it’s there, present and real.

“You know,” Bobby finds himself speaking, doing his best to ignore the temptation to stand up, go to the nearest bar, and ruin his sobriety in one fell swoop. “You have a habit of really breaking the rules. So much so, you’ve got me breaking my own.”

His chin trembles, words cracking, but he doesn’t pay attention to that now. He’s with Buck. Who knows when a slew of doctors will come in, when Eddie will come in, desperate and pleading for answers that Bobby doesn’t have. This is his time and Bobby isn’t sure how long it’ll be.

“I went past the glass doors. I didn’t even think of it, which was the weirdest part. Until I was standing there, moving forward, ready to go into the OR with the surgical staff.” Bobby lets out a hollow laugh. “I came to L.A. thinking that there was no way I would find family again. The complete opposite of what I had. I’ve heard about L.A. and I knew I would care about my team, but not—” Bobby stops. “Not this. Not you.”

Bobby inches his hand slightly closer.

“You know, Robert Jr. would’ve loved you.” Bobby lets out a broken laugh. It doesn’t even sound like him. Like he’s outside his own body, watching a cruel tragedy. “I think about that sometimes and sometimes I even consider telling you. I think that would mean a lot to you, but I-I never could say it, because it meant something more. I never wanted to get into a place where I could love people so much to feel the weight of their loss, but I have Athena, May, and Harry… and you. I told myself that I don’t really need to say it because you have to know by now, but I really don’t think you do. Because you’re not good at knowing when people love you.” Bobby leans in, as if to tell Buck a secret. “We’ll work on that.”

Running his free hand down his face, Bobby looks up to the ceiling. “I-I can’t believe I’m here again. I never wanted to be here again, I-I’m not strong enough to handle it twice, I can’t.”

With one last breath, Bobby reaches out and grabs Buck’s hand. It’s as cold and lifeless as his mind taunted him it would be, sending a shiver down his spine. Covering it with both hands, Bobby prays that maybe – just maybe – if he keeps it warm, it would be enough. It isn’t, as with most ideas of this nature and Bobby can’t help but wonder why God would keep him as still as he is now.

“So please don’t ask me to.” Bobby clears his throat. “I know it’s selfish, and I know you are doing your best kid, but I’m gonna need a little more from you. You’re the one I go when I need more, because I know you will do everything in your power if I ask you to. So I’m asking. Buck. I need you to try harder to come back. There is a waiting room of people who will be vastly changed if you don’t. I know you won’t believe it right away, but we all need you. Do you hear me? Buck? We need you. Please do not make me lose another son.”

Bobby squeezes his hands. He hears footsteps coming closer, familiar worried voices growing louder, and Bobby knows his time is up. “I’ll tell you, when you wake up. It’s when, yeah? Because that’s an order.” Bobby says, blinking away a few tears. “That’s right. I’m pulling rank on you. And you don’t disobey orders anymore. I’ve seen how hard you’ve been working, so I’m ordering you. Don’t do this to us. That’s an order.”

The machines beep in reply. Bobby pretends he hears a ‘yes, sir.’

*

“Whiskey, neat.”

Evan turns his head at the order, lifting his eyebrows up. A haggard figure all but pours himself into the bar stool, scrubbing his hands through his hair as he rests his elbows on the table. Evan’s unable to tear his gaze away at the man. Despite the fact that he’s in clear distresses, there’s something oddly familiar about him. There’s a pull, like a string, calling out to him to offer comfort, even when he’s by himself drinking in the afternoon. What comfort could he give a stranger?

Except the stranger sat right next to him.

Which is weird on many levels, firstly seeing as the bar is nearly empty. “Uh, you okay, man?”

The figure flinches, as if it never even occurred to him that there was another human next to him, and Evan assumed he might not have. When the man looks up, his deep, brown eyes are tinged red as if he’d been crying, which he most likely had. “What’s it to you?” He all but growls, causing Evan to put his hands up.

“No need to bite my head off, man, you just look rough and you all but knocked me out of the seat.”

Not the nicest response in the world, but also a true one. That’s when the man finally takes a quick scan around, the empty bar and the closeness of the single other person there apparent. Redness creeps on his cheeks and he moves to stand up. “Right, sorry, I—”

“I’m not saying you have to move.” Evan offers. “I was just saying you could talk about it, if you want. If anything to keep my mind off my own shit.”

That makes the man crack a smile, no matter how small. It feels like an achievement, something brewing in Evan’s chest. He tells himself it’s been a weird day. Ever since he and Daniel stopped by the AirBnb and everyone announced they were going to get something to eat, Evan has been feeling like something is not quite right. He tried to corner his sister, to ask her why they weren’t close, but Doug wouldn’t let it happen. Every time he went up to Maddie, the man was there, like a presence daring Evan to do something. So, he left.

It was for the best, anyway. If he was going to be in this sort of mood, the only thing he’d get was remarks from his mother and side-eyes from Daniel.

“Ah, so this is a selfish altruism?” The man says, relaxing a bit. The bartender drops off his whiskey, causing Evan to say he’ll have what he’s having, because why the hell not? He’s not on any restrictions until tomorrow and he didn’t even drive here.

“The best kind.” Evan grins, tilting the glass once he’s delivered.

The man gives Evan a strange, unreadable look, like he doesn’t quite trust him. Which, fair. Evan is a stranger and basically asked the man to tell him why he looks like he’s going to fall to pieces any second. Except Evan needs to know. It’s something burrowing deep in his chest, like he can’t settle until he gets an answer. He needs to comfort the man, he needs him to know he’s here for him. It’s alarming and even more stressful, but Evan decides not to think too hard about it.

The man looks at the whiskey, taking a small sip before a tear rolls down his face. “I lost my kid today.”

Evan’s eyes widen. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you—”

“Not like that.” The man corrects quickly, but with his distraught face, Evan isn’t so sure. “My, uh, parents fought for custody for him and I just found out they won. On Friday, my son will be legally my parents and will be required to move back to Texas.”

Evan stills.

It feels like his fault.

He isn’t sure why, but it strikes him hard and fast, like he needs to apologize for not being there. Swallowing said apology, Evan decides the best action would be to wait the man out. Fortunately he didn’t have to do so for very long.

“They’ve never been… supportive of the whole single dad thing. And it has never been easy, he has CP and requires extra care. With my hours at work and the fact that we lost his mother a year ago, it hasn’t been easy. God,” The man takes a larger drink this time, nearly half the glass gone. “It’s been goddamn impossible. I-I’ve been failing him constantly and I could never figure out how to make it right. I was never supposed to do this by myself, I-I don’t know how to do it by myself. Even before my wife passed, she left both of us and I barely knew my own son. I just have been drowning ever since.”

Evan listens, rapt and in pain for the man, his hands tightly gripping his glass. It feels like a secret, what the man is telling him, the pain and tragedy too much to bear.

“I couldn’t figure it out.” He says, the words cracking. “I tried and I came up short every time. Every. Single. Goddamn. Time.” Knocking back the rest of his drink, the man waves to the bartender for another. The man merely pours the whiskey directly in the glass, his eyes sad like he’d been listening. Evan figures he was, but can’t help but feel angry about that. Those aren’t his words to hear. “I couldn’t control how mad I was about everything. Failing my son, my wife for leaving us, and then leaving us forever by dying. I-I couldn’t control any of it. I got into some bad stuff and that was it. My parents had enough ammo to sue for custody.”

His chin trembles, examining the drink before putting the glass to his lip. “I failed him one final time. In the worst way.” The man’s words are a tragedy in a single sentence.

Evan can’t help but blink away a few tears of his own, a little grateful that the man refuses to look at time.

“I have to go home and tell my son that everything we tried out here didn’t work. That he has to go live with his abuela and abuelo back in Texas. That I wasn’t good enough.”

“Come on,” Evan finally manages, because the words are too much, they’re too cruel to continue to listening to. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Then what the fuck should I talk like?” The man snaps, finally looking up from his glass. His expression is filled with rage with nowhere to go and Evan genuinely thinks he may take a swing at him. He wouldn’t blame him. Anger with nowhere to go is a dangerous thing. Evan fights his with this schedule and lifting weights until his body screams to keep himself from doing so. “Because I did.”

“I don’t agree.” Evan says, taking a sip of his whiskey. It burns, it’s been a while since he drank hard liquor straight and is reminded why it’s not his favorite. “Listen, I know I don’t know you, but from what you’ve just said, you had a series of impossible situations put in your lap. No one could handle all that by themselves, it’s not your fault that you had a hard time. Everyone needs help, I’m just sorry that there wasn’t anyone there for you.”

The man stills. When he returns his attention to Evan, his eyes are wild. “Why would you say that.”

Evan flinches. “What do you mean?”

“You know who was supposed to be there.”

Evan doesn’t know why the moment has become so charged, but it is. Like electricity is coursing between the two of them, a current that Evan feels in his toes.

He reaches the conclusion the man is speaking of his wife, if anything than to break whatever spell had settled between the two. “You know, I’ve never been close with my father. Physically, he’s always been there, but I feel like he really only wanted two kids. I was an unfortunate side effect of cancer.” Evan gives a hollow laugh with a drink, liking the alcohol decidedly more when it’s an excuse to do something else.

“What?”

Evan knows it’s a weird thing to say. It sticks in his brain, the phrase. Side effect. Consequence. Evan’s troubled over it the past few days, unable to put into words what he feels in the world. He knows what would happen if he did – he’d be ungrateful, he’d be cursing Daniel.

He loved Daniel. He loved Daniel with every part of him, and therefore wanted to give him the parts he needed.

Evan shrugs.

“Come on, I told you my tragic tale, it’s literally the least you could do. You’re the one who’s drinking alone in the middle of the day.”

“Um, excuse you, I have someone next to me, thank you very much.” Evan chuckles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It does make the man laugh though, which Evan counts as a win. “You’re going to think I’m a terrible person if I tell you.”

“Did I not just tell you I’m losing my son?”

“I’m still gonna have to fight you on that one. I don’t think it is what you think.”

“You think you can go for the title?”

Evan’s head whips up. The words are so pointed, like a memory he can’t quite reach. He’s staring at the man, his eyes piercing and familiar and all Evan wants to do is tell him everything will be alright. “You couldn’t handle it.” Evan settles on, only a little bit shaky.

The man’s lips curl up. “Oh, you’d be surprised.” He takes a drink and gestures to the bartender. Nudging his knee against Evan’s thigh, the man says, “Come on. Only fair.”

“Fine, but I’m gonna need more of this.” Evan states, downing the rest of the drink and offering his glass to the bartender. “I’m here because my brother, who has leukemia and has had it my entire life, needs a kidney. And I am going to be giving it to him because it’s my job. I was made to help him with the pieces he needs, so currently my family is out having dinner in celebration before the surgery on Friday, but I couldn’t bring myself to go because I always get nervous before these surgeries. And they’ll just tell me I’m making it about me and I shouldn’t do that and be so selfish, so—” Evan tips his glass to the man. “Sorry to uproot your position for worst person in the world, but that title definitely is mine. Can’t even sit through a dinner with my family when we are celebrating.”

The man doesn’t respond right away and Evan can’t bring himself to look at him. He focuses on his glass, swirling the amber liquid around, unable to take another sip. He’s sick to his stomach and bile is raising in his throat, no need to tempt fate now.

“It’s just—” Evan bites his lip, trying to say it without sounding horrible. “I would give everything to Daniel. Anything he wants. Kidney? Sure. Liver? Of course. Lung, heart, blood, marrow, take it. Take everything I have. I just sometimes wish that… that other people wouldn’t see me that way. Like I’m just pieces. And that’s selfish, I know. And I’m happy to give them anything they want but—” Evan bows his head. “I wish they wouldn’t ask for parts. I wish they’d love me anyway.”

He runs his fingers around the top of the glass. “I know I’m lucky. I have family who loves me. I just—” He sighs. “Wish they loved all pieces of me. Even the defective ones. The ones they don’t like. Especially the ones they don’t like.” He lets out a shaky breath and finally turns to smile at the man. “Sorry to dethrone you, dude. Guess the title’s mine.”

The man is staring at him. There’s something brewing behind his expression that Evan can’t bring himself to understand. “You do.” The man says and it sounds broken.

“Huh?”

“You have a family who loves you. And they need you to be with them.”

Guilt spiders in Evan’s veins and he sighs. “Yeah I know, tell that to the five calls my mom has sent me since we’ve been talking.” He reaches in his pocket and puts his phone on the bar. “Oh, it’s six! Must’ve not felt that—”

“Not them.”

The words are certain and cold. “Sorry?”

“You have a family who loves you and you need to go to them. They love you without pieces. They just want you. You need to go to them before it’s too late. Please.”

Evan leans back, trying to get away from the intensity of the man. Except the man doesn’t let him. Like he’s willing Evan to understand, understand something he can’t put his finger on. Evan lets the man reach out and grab his wrist and he nearly recoils from the touch. It’s like lightning, striking through his entire body. The ache in his chest is back and he wants to pull away, but he can’t. The man is holding him there, like a tether, like a lifeline.

Like a promise.

Then, as quickly as it comes, it’s gone.

The man lets go, returning to his drink, eyes filled with tears. “I’m gonna have to go back to Texas.” He sighs. “I can’t lose any more of my family.”

It burns where he held Evan’s wrist.

*

“You doing alright?”

Hen startles at the question, even more so when she sees Maddie approach her, eyes red and hair tossed up in a bun that’s falling apart. “I should be asking you that.”

Maddie gives a half-hearted shrug. “I know I’m his big sister and everyone keeps asking, but then again, you are his big sister too.”

Hen freezes at this. She feels her heart skip a beat, eyes wide as she looks at the woman. “Maddie—”

“He sneaks up on you, doesn’t he?” Maddie says knowingly, a smile on her lips, no matter how heartbroken. “He did it with all of you, whether you wanted to or not. Howie told me Evan used to drive him absolutely nuts when he started at the 118, at first because he was a cocky frat bro—” Hen can’t help but snort at that completely true statement. “—and then because he was also really good at his job while being completely good-looking.” Maddie shakes her head affectionately. “Then, somewhere along the way, he found himself texting Evan and genuinely caring about how he was doing. Howie called him a parasite. Burrowing underneath his skin.” Maddie laughs and it turns into a sob. Putting a shaking hand to her mouth, she tries to stifle it, but is unsuccessful, Hen reaching out. “He loves you so much.” She manages through her fingers. “He talks about it all the time. About how he’s always had you.”

Hen’s lip trembles. Ever since she felt him pass underneath her hands, she hasn’t been able to shake the electricity from her fingertips. She feels more out of control than she has in a while – not since she tried to hold the weight of the world on her shoulders until her wife told it was time to stop. “W-When you and Chim were in Boston and Eddie had quit, it was just Buck and I. Trust me, I never thought of all the people at the 118, Buck would be my constant, but there he was. Showing up to work every day, helping me through not having my partner, and then I did with him not having his. Did you know he used to come to my house and cook for me, Karen, and Denny?”

Maddie lets out a watery laugh like she isn’t surprised, but needed to hear it all the same.

“When I was in med school and things were falling apart, he just showed up one day with groceries. Saying he spotted take out in my car and that I needed a home cooked meal outside of the station. He just… cooked. Chatted with Denny while he did his homework, gave Karen a glass of wine when she got home from work. You should’ve seen the look on her face. This ridiculous boy was in our kitchen, cooking us dinner, giving us wine as if it was the most normal thing in the world.”

“You know Buck. He thinks everything he does is normal.”

“Weirdest contradiction of a man I’ve ever seen.” Hen wipes a tear from under the brim of her glasses, sighing. “It became a thing. He’d come over and cook once a week. I once – honest to god – came home to him and Karen dancing in the kitchen. Dancing! You could’ve knocked me over.” Hen stops. “He’s been floundering for a while and I was so afraid to be direct with him. I was appreciative he wanted to talk to me, but I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin. I wanted to shake him, make him understand that he didn’t need to give pieces of himself away to have people love him. That we do.”

Maddie nods, a few more tears falling. “It’s one of the things that I’ve never really been able to forgive my parents for. For making him think he has to cut pieces of himself in order to feel love. I-I didn’t really understand what was happening growing up because he was Evan and a bit of a wrecking ball, and my silly younger brother. But seeing him now, with people who love him unconditionally…” Maddie whispers, as if it’s the most dangerous secret she’ll ever have, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive them. Not anymore.”

Hen knows she’s talking about a certain absence in the hospital, despite their parents being in the same city. It makes her feel an anger that she can only describe as ‘mama bear,’ as affectionately described by Karen, but she can’t be persuaded it isn’t justified. They should be here, the fact that they’re not makes her see red.

Maddie seems to know the feeling she’s having, because she says, “Daniel loved Evan. So much.”

It feels like more secrets. Information that Hen isn’t supposed to know, but Maddie is here and she’s falling apart, so Hen lets her share.

“He was so excited to be an older brother, you know? He spoke about it all the time, would tell everyone who would listen that he was going to be an older brother. I-I don’t think he understood what was really going on, because he was so confused why people got so weird when he brought it up. When Evan was born, he begged to hold him, but he had been on treatment and they weren’t sure he could hold him up. So I took him, and held him next to Daniel. He was so happy.”

Maddie’s lower lip quivers. “He was the first one to get Evan to laugh too. God, I’ve never told anyone that.”

Hen knows not crying is a losing battle and tries to steady herself. “Did he really?” She whispers because she feels like she needs to.

“Yeah,” Maddie responds with a watery laugh. “It was in the hospital of all places. Our parents had gone to get a coffee and it was just us three. Daniel made this weird noise because he was annoyed with something we were watching and Evan just laughed. It was so loud, and so Daniel tried again. And he just kept laughing. It had been a long day – the days where Evan had to get tested and prodded were always hard because he just cried. You could see he was trying to figure out why it was happening and what was going wrong, but there was nothing we could do. And he laughed.”

Maddie takes a shuddering breath. “Daniel made me promise not to tell Mom and Dad. He said he wanted to keep it between the three of us. The three musketeers.” She bows her head. “I haven’t thought about that in a long time. It’s what he called us. Said it was perfect that Evan made us three. So when our parents came back and everything had settled, we didn’t say anything. Didn’t tell them. Kept it just for ourselves.” Her face falls and she starts to weep.

Hen sees Chimney’s head whip up at the noise, as if he was attuned to Maddie in a way that runs in his bones, but she shakes her head at him. Instead, she pulls the woman into a hug, letting he cry on her should, Hen unable to hold back her own. She knows Maddie as Buck’s sister and Chimney’s love, but in this moment, she’s her sister. Brought together by people they love, creating love themselves.

“I just want him to be okay,” Maddie says, her words small. “I don’t want to bury another brother. I-I need him to be okay.”

Hen doesn’t respond at first. The weight of the confession seems to heavy to simply say words. They need to be the right ones, except for the first time in a while, Hen isn’t sure of what to say.

She always knows what to say.

It makes it feel like more of a nightmare. The uncertainty of it all. Hen always knows what to say, even in her dreams, but here is a woman who needs the right words and she doesn’t have him. All she can do is be honest. “Me too.” Hen whispers. “H-He asked me recently, after a tough call, what the secret of happiness was.” Maddie peers up at her, unable or unwilling to remove herself from the embrace. “I remember my life was falling apart and here was Buck, asking for help. For a lifeline. I-I didn’t see it then and ignored the signs moving forward, but I think about that day a lot. I told him he’d have to figure it out on his own, but what if I had stayed just for a second or two? And really tried to explain what made him happy? Maybe he would’ve—”

“If I know anything I know Buck. Neither of us could stop the avalanche that is my baby brother when he wants to figure something out.” Maddie presses a hand kindly against her cheek. “He spent years traveling around the country trying to find something, but he finally found what he was looking for. I think he needed to do it himself. Still does.”

The two break apart and Hen follows her gaze. Eddie’s sitting in the corner of the waiting room, head in his hands, leg bouncing up and down a bit. He seems more alone than Hen’s ever seen him, shying away from any form of comfort in the room. His fingers curl into this hair as he tugs, the stress and grief rolling off of him like a physical presence. A shield, keeping everyone away.

“I should tell him I’ll do it.” Maddie says, her voice breaking. “It shouldn’t be him. I-I—”

“It shouldn’t be either of you.” Hen states, wrapping an arm around Maddie and pulling her close. “We shouldn’t even be here.”

*

“Hey Mads, can I talk to you?”

Maddie’s head whips up, frowning at the nickname. Evan isn’t sure why he said it – his family didn’t do nicknames, they had a clear rule for that, he only called Daniel ‘Danny’ when they were alone – but it rolls off his tongue before he can stop it. “Sure, what’s up?”

Evan casts a look behind him, making sure the two of them were alone. Doug had a nasty habit of showing up where Evan wished he wasn’t, no keen on the looks the man gave him as if he knows something Evan doesn’t. It’s a rare moment when Doug is preoccupied by Daniel, Daniel giving the man a rundown of the recent Philly’s game with excitable detail. It occurs to Evan that maybe it was his gift to his baby brother: a moment with his sister.

Now that he has it, he isn’t sure what to say. He opens his mouth, Maddie waiting expectantly before him. He can see how her eyes are tired and almost always sad, how she tugs at the bottom of her sleeves without realizing it.

“Why aren’t we close?”

He blurts it out before he can even think about what he’s saying, but realizes how desperate he is for the answer. Maddie blinks at him, a whirlwind of emotions playing on her face, before she settles on a careful, “What are you talking about, Evan?”

It’s guarded. Suspicious. Everything he doesn’t like rolled into one. “W-We, we aren’t close.” Evan states and it sounds like a tragedy in his ears. “I-I never see you. I can’t remember the last time we talked about anything… real.”

“Come on, Evan.” Maddie states, shaking her head, resuming whatever search she had been on. “It’s different with you and me. You and Daniel live in the same house, of course you’re close. You literally have given him what he needs to live. I have a life, I have a husband, I have—”

“Why are you with Doug?” Evan presses because it feels like an important question.

“Evan.” The word is warning. A threat.

“He’s not a good man. You deserve a good man, Maddie. A good life. Not just a life.”

“Where is this coming from?” Maddie hisses, throwing a look over her should and tugging Evan away from the prying eyes of their family. “You’ve never been interested in my marriage before, I don’t understand why you’re starting now.”

“Because you’re important and I love you.” Evan states. “You’re the person I have always loved.”

It’s true.

More than he can express.

It lives under his ribcage like his own tattoo. There are many things he doesn’t understand about his life, about the sense of it all. Even now, in a house filled with his own family, surrounded by people who should love him most, there’s something missing. But standing here, standing close to his sister?

There’s no confusion. No question. Just love.

It pours and pours and pours out of him.

“Evan,” Maddie whispers, bringing her hand out. Evan peers at her wrist, where she pulls down her sleeves without thinking, and thinks he sees something underneath her sleeve.

With as much care as he possibly can, he grabs her wrist. Pinching the fabric, he moves to roll it up, his breath catching. His hands are shaking, but it may be Maddie, trembling from head to toe. He goes to roll it up—

“What’s going on here?”

Doug leans against the doorway, a sly smile on his face. Maddie leaps back from Evan’s touch as if he burned her, and he’s never missed her more than he does with the foot of space between them. She lets out a feeble laugh. “Evan was just telling me a story about his firm. Accounting is not as boring as it sounds!” Her words are fake. He can hear the sugar coating every syllable, crystallizing over the fear. Evan wonders if she always sounded like that and he’s just noticing. It mixes with the guilt in his stomach and Evan can’t bare it. “Found the wine!” She exclaims, procuring a few bottles from a cupboard. “Come on, Evan, before Mom gets in one of her moods.”

He can see it as the out that it is, but before he can follow her, Doug places an arm against the doorframe, blocking his path. Evan startles, tilting his head up in a cocky sort of way that hopes convey how little he’s afraid of the man. “What were you saying to my wife?”

“Her name’s Maddie, in case you forgot.” Evan says coolly, crossing his arms and glaring at the blockade as if it’s merely an inconvenience and not something that’s making his heart ratchet up. “And quite frankly, that’s none of your goddamn business.”

Doug eyes him, tilting his head in a clinical fashion that Evan tells himself doesn’t scare him. Because Evan’s bigger. He’s stronger. But in the end, Doug has the edge. The edge that Evan never has had: the edge to hurt someone willingly.

“You know what?” Doug says after a moment. “It’s not worth it. Not worth damaging someone who’s just spare parts. What’s the point?”

Evan clenches his jaw, trying to compose himself. It’s moments like this when his rage comes full force, the rage he tries to stifle with running, weightlifting, with anything to distract him. “Let me be very clear with you. If you hurt my sister—”

“You’ll what? Tell your family? Get Maddie to leave?” Doug asks, a wicked smile on his face. “What part aren’t you getting? You are nothing. Well, not nothing. You are backup pieces that your parents had, to save the children they actually want. So let’s stop pretending your opinion really matters.”

Evan feels his fists clenching.

“Oh and one more thing.” Doug leans in close with his wry grin, like he’s about to tell a secret to a friend. “Talk to my wife again like that, and I’ll put your ass in another coma.”

*

He can’t believe the words coming out of their mouths.

Eddie honest to God can’t believe it.

He catches Hen’s eye to make sure he’s hearing it correctly, and when he faces the look of complete shock, he knows he’s heard correctly.

It’s an odd situation in general, mainly because the Buckleys are here.

Here, in Buck’s room.

They look out of place with the team, eyes swollen and red from days of silent tears, back aching from the vigil they had maintained, and then… there were these two. In pressed clothes and sad eyes and it makes Eddie want to yell.

Actually, no, what they’re saying makes him want to yell.

More than yell, really.

Eddie thought he had his rage under control, thought he had his issues figured out, but here he is, contemplating putting a fist through a wall. The only thing stopping him was the steady beeping of Buck’s heart in the background, one after another, reminding him that the man was alive.

“You’re going to have to repeat yourselves.” Eddie finally says, the first to come out of the shock of their proclamation to say anything coherent. Bobby stands next to his, mouth agape and tears forming in his eyes while Athena holds his arm. Eddie thinks her free hand looks suspiciously like it’s hovering over where her gun would be in uniform, but he tells himself he’s seeing things. “Because there’s no way I heard you correctly.”

He thinks of the conversation he and Buck had in his kitchen. The sheer horror he felt when he heard the words that his best friend uttered. It felt like a different language as he repeated his mother’s words, but that wasn’t what truly got him.

What got him was the resignation. Not an ounce of surprise. Like Buck knew it was coming, knew it was what they were thinking.

It made him murderous.

Phillip and Margaret Buckley stand before them, Margaret’s purse clutched in her hand like she was just as ready to leave as she was to arrive. “It’s what he would want. You know it is. It’s all he ever wanted, it’s what he was born to do – to help and it’s at the point—”

“Enough.”

It’s said with such venom, Eddie is almost certain is comes from him. He’s the only one who would sound like that, he’s the only one who wouldn’t give two shits about putting the Buckleys in their place. Except he didn’t say it.

Bobby stands from the chair he has been living in, next to Buck’s head, Bible in hand. He sets it down on the bed, the book folding into the fabric as if it’s the only thing he trusts to watch over him while he’s not fully paying attention. “That is not helpful.” He states and he’s using his Captain voice, a little cracked around the edges but as authoritative as ever.

“I don’t understand how this is any of your business.” Margaret states and it’s all Eddie can do not to yell at them to leave right there. Bobby flinches ever so slightly, his hand wrapping around rosary beads until his knuckles grow white. “This is a family matter.”

“Exactly!” Eddie finally is able to find his voice, the word louder than anything he’s heard since the crack of lightning. “A family matter, which is why your opinion is irrelevant.”

“Eddie,” Chimney warns next to him, but he looks as stricken as any of them. Eddie can see the war on his face, watching Maddie and her reaction to gauge what he does. Because in the end, he takes his cues on how to deal with their parents from her, just as Eddie takes his from Buck.

But Buck isn’t able to give him any cues right now. He can’t give an easy smile and try and defuse, or make the decision to erupt. His presence is reduced to machines and the whirring of beeps indicating he’s still alive, and Eddie isn’t in a place where he can hear reason. Because, after five days, five days of torture, of hell, they show up and tell him he has too—

Shaking his head, Eddie purses his lips as he tries to shake the thoughts from his head. “It isn’t your decision.” Eddie states, voice low and warning. Daring them to press him further when he’s on the verge of cracking.

“It sure as hell isn’t yours either!” Margaret shouts and he sees the tears in her eyes but can’t help but feel nothing.

“Actually, it is!” Eddie snaps back, unable to control himself.

He thought for the longest time he worked through his anger, something that could only be satiated by his fists and blood on the ground. Except he’s standing here in a room that’s growing too small with people he hates and doesn’t really know. He wants to tell them everything – everything Buck has ever shared with him, how he makes himself smaller in their presence, no matter what familial bullshit front the collective puts on. He wants to tell them all the things Buck has trusted him with to prove they don’t know shit about their own children, or that he had to put the pieces back together the last time they were here.

He doesn’t.

It’s not his to tell. But more than that, he doesn’t want to give them anymore of their son than what they deserve.

Nothing.

“Then you should waive it.” Phillip finally speaks and Eddie turns his glower to him. “Evan has always been irresponsible about the things that matter—”

“Stop. Mr. Buckley. Please.” Chimney cuts through before Eddie can snarl at the man, putting his hands up. “Let’s all take a breath. This isn’t how we should be doing this. Eddie is Buck’s medical proxy and in the end it’s his decision—”

“Why would he put it as someone who isn’t family?” Margaret pleads and it would’ve been easier to take if she slapped him.

Not family.

Eddie takes a step back, closer to the man in question. Eddie had never said the words out loud, but he didn’t think he needed to. Tears are welling in his eyes again and he tries to get it under control, but he can’t. It’s too painful, too raw. He has been spending the past five days trying to come to terms with a potential reality where Buck wasn’t in it, but the only conclusion he could ever reach is that he isn’t interested in it. No, sorry Universe, you’ll have to do better.

Do more than better.

Do fucking more.

Instead, he is standing here, listening to Buck’s blood family discuss taking him off the machines keeping him alive. Because his organs could do so much good. They could save.

Defective parts.

Eddie is trying to keep himself together, but everything is too monster-like. He finds himself wishing his Abuela was here – not that she didn’t offer when he called her in a panic – ready to take on the people he can’t say a word too. He knows Buck would be the first person to defend him, but without him here to do so, the darker parts of his mind are taking over.

That’s what his family is for.

He sees Hen angrily open her mouth, Bobby taking a step forward, and Chimney’s desire for peace go out the window all at once. The room gets loud and violent in a way only words can, voices rising until—

“I want you to go.”

The words aren’t quiet, but not loud. Forceful. Firm.

Young.

Carla stands with Christopher at the opening of Buck’s room, his hand in hers while he glowers at the scene, his eyes boring into the Buckleys. Eddie knows Christopher has never met them, but is smart enough to immediately know who they are. He’s staring at them with a ferocity that reminds Eddie a little too much of himself, and he can’t help but be a little proud. “Excuse me, young man?” Margaret says, her words clipped.

And boy, if that doesn’t do something to Eddie.

The taut wire that was holding him back from losing completely snaps at the tone she uses with his son, and he takes an aggressive step forward.

In the end, it doesn’t matter.

“You need to go. Buck doesn’t need you here. He’s ours. He agreed. I told him he was ours now.” Christopher says, unafraid. “And since he’s ours, you should go. You’re making everyone mad. And I want you to go. Buck is ours. He’s mine and my dad’s. We don’t need you. Neither does Buck.”

The Buckleys don’t respond, mouths agape. Honestly, Eddie isn’t sure what he’d say to that either if he were on the receiving end, and he knows his son like his knows his own soul. But Christopher is his own person, his own whirlwind of love and personality, and Eddie thinks if he taught his son one thing, it’s to love his family with the ferocity of fire. His mouth quirks up.

The Buckleys turn to him, still stunned, eyeing him expectantly like they expect him to chastise his son for the disrespect.

Instead, Eddie collects himself and crosses his arms. “You know teenagers. Can’t teach them anything.”

*

Evan finds himself alone in the hospital again. It isn’t like last time. There isn’t an adorable kid next to him, there isn’t the bustle of other patients. Just him, by himself, in a hospital room with only machines beeping to keep him company. He knows his family is somewhere – going over what Daniel needs for the surgery in a few hours, leaving Evan to pick at the strings of his gown.

His phone is on the table next to him, Evan growing bored of clicking on random Wikipedia articles to pass the time, the anxiety of the surgery mounting while he waits. Running his sweating hands down his sides, Evan tries to calm himself, but this one feels different. He’s had surgery dozens of times, but his heart is racing and he can’t bring himself to calm down.

“You’re here!”

Evan looks up from where he is, startled to see the kid from his test day before him, eyes bright and smiling. “Christopher!” He exclaims, letting out a shaky breath. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be getting prepped for your own surgery?”

“Turns out, it wasn’t needed. We just wanted to stop by and check on our mutual friend, apparently.” Another figure moves into a view, a man with warm brown eyes, less haunted than he remembers. “I’m Eddie by the way.”

Evan lets out a strangled laugh, running his hands down his face. “No way, you’re the Amazing Eddie? I heard Christopher talk about you for over an hour the other day. What are the odds?”

Then it all hits him. His conversation with the man, the bar, everything that was going on.

Eddie must see the moment he puts it together. “After we spoke, I reached out to my lawyer. We’re going to appeal, and apparently the main thing missing was I needed help. You were right, I guess.”

Evan bites back the urge to say ‘how many times do I have to tell you I’m always right?’ but isn’t sure why he feels like he needs to say it. “That’s awesome man. Do you know where to start?”

Eddie doesn’t respond right away. Christopher glances up at his dad, tugging his Henley and tilting his head toward him in the bed.

“I don’t know, Evan, where should we start?”

Evan recoils.

He never told the man his name, he’s sure of it. But with Christopher looking at him, he has to believe the kid has.

They’re staring at him, eyes too sad and bodies too far, like they’re afraid to enter the room that he’s haunting. Evan opens his mouth to ask him what he means, what all this means, but the buzzing is back. The beeping of machines are growing louder. “I want to help you but—”

He looks up again and they’re gone.

In their place is a familiar face, leaning against the door frame. With an easy smile and piercing blue eyes, Daniel strides in the room, wearing the clothes Evan saw him in earlier in the day. “Daniel? What the hell man, why are you getting ready for surgery? What are you doing?”

Daniel sighs, sitting down on Evan’s bed. He feels exposed in his hospital gown with Daniel in his clothes, wrapping his arms around his chest as he tries to ground himself, but finds that he’s spinning. Placing a hand over his own, Daniel gazes at Evan. “You don’t have to do this.”

Evan groans. “Danny, will you stop please? I don’t know why I need to convince you to let me help you. I can function just fine with only one kidney, people do it all the time—”

“It’s not just a kidney.” He wraps his hands around Evan’s bringing it up to his chest where his heart is.

Or rather, where it’s supposed to be.

Evan can’t feel anything. “Daniel—”

“It won’t save me. It’ll just destroy you. And I need you to not do this anymore. Stop giving parts of yourself to people who don’t love you.”

Evan tries to take his hand back, but Daniel’s grip is like a vice, holding it against his empty chest. “This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.”

And he isn’t. His face is more solemn than he’s ever seen it. “You can’t save me, Evan. And you were never meant to. You spend your life giving parts of yourself away – and for what? To save my life? I wasn’t able to be saved, Evan. And that is not your fault.”

“What are you talking about, I-I was born to save you and I—”

“You were born to be a person. Your own living, breathing person. You need to stop acting as if the whole of everything you can offer isn’t enough.” Daniel sets himself. “You have turned me into a ghost.”

Evan presses back into the pillow of the hospital bed, tears coming fast and quick. He’s confused, he’s aching, his chest hurts, and his brother won’t let him go.

Lifting his gaze, he sees figures on the other side of the glass of his room, like shadows of a life he doesn’t recognize. Even though he can’t see their faces, he feels them. Really feels them. Waiting.

For what?

Him?

That doesn’t make any sense.

“I need to save you,” Evan finds himself saying, his words cracking. “It was my job to save you.”

“No,” Daniel states, finally letting his hand go. “It’s your job to live. Nothing more.”

Evan sits in the hospital bed, his brother mere inches away but never further away. “I have to do something.”

“You know exactly what you have to do.” Daniel states. “You always were running from something, but somewhere along the way everyone made me into something I never wanted to be. I never wanted to be your ghost, I never wanted to haunt you.”

Evan’s chin trembles and he hears the machines around him start to ratchet up, starting to scream at him. “Then what do you want?” He can’t help but yell over the machines, scream louder than the mechanical clinking around him.

“I wanted to be your big brother!” Daniel shouts back, eyes now watery and red. “That’s all I ever wanted. I don’t want to be your ghost, I just want to be your brother.”

Evan finds a sob crawling up his throat. “I just wanted to be yours.”

Daniel breaks into a smile, a chuckle breaking out. “The three musketeers, that’s what we were supposed to be. You need to look out for her, since I can’t anymore, yeah? Promise? Buck?”

Daniel leans forward, sticking a pinky out.

Evan doesn’t respond right away. The machines are getting too loud and his chest hurts too much. It feels like someone is splitting his head in too and there’s screaming that he can’t push aside.

He’s not breathing!

He’s crashing—

Someone help—

*

It’s the first time Eddie is in the room by himself.

That’s not entirely true. Christopher is curled on a small cot shoved right next to Buck, his hand resting on the sheets of the bed. Eddie thinks if he can will it enough, Buck will reach out and close the gap, but he doesn’t. He’s still and quiet, communicating through machines.

Eddie finds he can’t sit. It’s too stationary and he needs to move, he needs to act, but there’s nothing to act upon. There’s nothing to fight, nothing to save.

That’s the tragedy of it all, isn’t it?

He merely is at the whim of the world, tipping on the precipice of whether his life will change forever or not. If he’s honest with himself, it already has. It changed the moment the lightning hit, carving lines of sorrow in its wake.

After pacing for a bit, Eddie finally allows himself to settle in the chair next to Buck. It had held a rotating shift of people, holding his hand and whispering secrets to the man, yet Eddie couldn’t bring himself to sit there. He couldn’t say anything that was close to the word ‘goodbye,’ no matter how many times the nurses looked at him with pity as the chances of him waking dwindled down.

“Sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you. You of all people know I’m not always great with words. You’re the one who always has to force me to talk.” Eddie starts, staring at the man’s hand. He makes a stilted move to grab it, but stops. “I never thought I’d miss a rant about the new space rover right now. That’s the first thing I thought of, you know? There was something on the news and I thought, ‘wow, now I’m going to have to listen to Buck explain about everything about this rover for the next week.’ Then I realized, I wouldn’t.”

Eddie bites his lip to hold back a sob, but it doesn’t work. It rips through him, loud and painful, unable to be controlled. “I could really use it right now, Buck.” He manages, sucking in a breath. “I would listen to you forever, if you could just – just come back, okay? I know the odds, I know what people are saying, but they don’t know you. They don’t know you like I do. I know you are fighting because that’s what we do. We fight for each other.”

Eddie has to stop for a second to compose himself, quickly scrubbing the tears from under his eyes, but they just get replaced with more. “So, can you wake up? Please? Please, Buck, I-I—” He runs his hand through his hair. “I have always told myself you knew. You knew how much you meant to me and what it would do to me if you ever left. I was drowning before I met you. I-I sometimes can’t talk about it because if I did, I think I would say more than I ever meant to.

“I mean to now. Because you need to hear it and I need to tell you. I need to tell you that the ambulance when I first started was the first time I trusted someone in years. That you showed up at my house with Carla like it wasn’t the most life-changing gift you could ever give me. That you drive me places when I can’t bring myself to get behind the wheel because it reminds me too much of the desert and bodies I wasn’t able to save. That I can give you my son – my heart – and know you will protect it with everything you have and more. I’ll tell you all this, okay? I’ll tell you how I remember reaching for you in the shooting and I wasn’t afraid, once I knew you were okay. Because I trust you with everything. A-And I didn’t think I could do that, really. I always thought something was wrong with me, but I realize now, I just needed you.”

Needed.

It sounds wrong in his mouth and Eddie corrects, “Need. I need you. Not because of what you can give, not because of anything I expect you to, but just you. Just you, Buck. Evan. I need you.”

Buck responds by twitching his finger.

A pinky finger to be exact.

*

“Ready?”

Buck is rubbing his chest in a way that makes the aching dull a bit, frowning as his fingers brush against the scars the spider down his front. When he doesn’t respond right away, he hears the figure charge in the room, hands out as if he’s ready to catch him.

Which, Eddie always is.

Buck stares at the man, the whisper of a world on his tongue, but he can’t find the right words. All he knows is that he’s going home. Home to Eddie’s, home to a future that seems a little brighter than it had weeks ago. Eddie’s hands ghost over his shoulders and Buck wants to say something to him. Wants to say everything that has been rolling around his head like its own lightning, charged with the weight of their history. He opens his mouth, trying to find words that express everything he needs to to the man, but finds nothing but air caught in his throat.

It doesn’t seem to matter, though.

Eddie’s eyes start to water as if he had found the perfect words that don’t exist. His head nods, jerky and close, like a promise. A promise Buck has never said, but neither has Eddie. One that needs to be vocalized out loud, despite years of wordless affirmation littering the path to this moment.

“Buckeroo, solve an argument for me.” Chimney is saying as he barges into Buck’s hospital room with a tray of coffees and a couple bags that Buck knows will contain a croissant from his favorite bakery near the station, clearly wholly unaware of the moment he just broke. “How soon is too soon to start making lightning puns?”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back dramatically, even though there’s a real panic in his eyes. “Preferably never.” He all but growls, but it’s just on the edge of teasing. Instead of pressing further, he snatches a coffee from the tray and the bag right out of Chimney’s hand, earning a squawk and a swipe.

“Told you, Chim.” Hen says with a Danish in her mouth and an arm thrown over Maddie, rolling her eyes affectionately at her best friend. “My guess is there will be a moratorium on anything lightning related for a while.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Bobby offers when he joins, flanked by Athena. “I don’t feel bad speaking for all of us when I say I’m relieved the storms all seem to have passed.”

Buck can’t help but grin at his Captain, his eyes still tinged with worry as he looks at him, but there’s something more. Something’s changed he can’t quite put his finger on, but at least now, he has time to figure it out.

“We also have a gift for you.” Hen announces, putting her hand over Chimney’s face as he opens his mouth to argue for the millionth time that comedy is how he deals, guys.

Buck knows that these sorts of things are normal with the 118, but he can’t remember someone giving him a present in the hospital. He fully knows Hen’s already spoke to the bakery on 7^th street about a cake and has a sneaking suspicion something is happening at Eddie’s house due to Christopher’s complete inability to keep any secret from Buck. Frowning, he reaches out and takes the bag offered to him, unable to stop being suspicious.

Reaching in, Buck all but barks a laugh, unable to mitigate it, like he generally can’t these days. He pulls out a steel clipboard, a pair of wool socks nestled underneath the thick metal clasp at the top. “What?” Buck exclaims, closing his eyes in laughter. “I thought I was banned!”

“We have temporarily lifted the ban for this one—” Bobby emphasizes with his finger. “One clipboard. Which you will be able to use, unless you give us a reason to take it away from you.”

“I give him one week.” Chimney says.

“I’ll take that action.” Hen offers. “He’ll last a day, tops, when he’s back.”

When he’s back.

Buck can’t help it – his eyes fill with tears, this gift one of the best he’s ever received. More than socks, more than a clipboard. But a promise. A promise of things he never thought he’d have.

“I’ll make sure Howie doesn’t take it from you.” Maddie whispers conspiratorially in his ear. “Promise.” She brings her pinky up towards him.

Automatically, Buck offers his, the words of something deep and loving rattling in his ribcage. “It the Buckleys against the world, right? Gotta keep it between the three musketeers.”

Maddie’s mouth drops open and her eyes widen. “What did you say?”

Buck merely tugs her pinky close to his. “I think he’d be proud, you know? After everything?”

Buck raises his gaze to the figures in his room. Bobby shaking his head at the sudden betting that has overtaken the room, although Buck doesn’t miss his Captain sliding Hen a bill when he thinks no one is looking. Hen on his left as if she can’t think of another place to be while Chimney continues to throw concerned looks at the two Buckleys next to each other.

And Eddie.

Buck knows it’ll be difficult, the next few months. But there’s something aching in his chest and for the first time, he thinks it feels like hope. With the small, private smile Eddie offers him over the boisterous laughter in the room, Buck thinks he may be right. Because he’s in the right place, and of that, he is certain.

All of him.