Chapter Text
“Dad’s dead.”
Buck hears the words. He hears them clear as day. They echo through his head, blaring like a nerve-grating siren. Buck hears the way Maddie’s voice shakes as she speaks them, the way her voice cracked harder on “Dad” than it did on “dead.” It’s a short, succinct sentence, understandable despite the trembling of his big sister’s voice.
Yet, Buck still cannot believe what he just heard.
“Evan? Did . . . did you hear me?”
Maddie hardly ever calls Buck “Evan.” Buck can probably count the number of times he’s heard his first name come out of his sister’s mouth on two hands. “Evan” means trouble. “Evan” means danger. “Evan” means something that Buck can’t come back from. “Evan” means that what Maddie’s just said is real.
“Yeah,” Buck can barely hear his own voice over the sound of the rest of the squad coming in from their call. “Yeah, I heard you.”
Maddie looks down at the ground, uncharacteristically uncertain and awkward. She laces and unlaces her fingers, her eyebrows knitting together as she stares at the firehouse floor. She looks like a kid again.
“I should’ve just called later . . .” Maddie mumbles, and Buck hates that voice so much that he drops his helmet next to his feet and takes hold of Maddie’s shoulders.
“Hey, hey, no, don’t--don’t do that,” Buck stammers. “It’s good you came. I mean, it makes sense, considering . . .”
Maddie looks up at Buck with wet eyes. Buck lets his hands fall back down to his sides as he takes in the grief on Maddie’s face.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Maddie says in a thick voice. “I know. I’m just . . . I don’t know what I’m thinking or feeling right now.”
Buck nods, his mind traveling far, far away. It lands at the last time he saw their dad; 8 years ago, when he was 20 and about to leave Pennsylvania for the last time. When his dad split Buck’s lip and Buck blackened his dad’s eye and his dad screamed that he never wanted to see Buck’s pathetic ass again. When Buck walked out of the house and tried to block the sounds of Maddie and his mother sobbing only to end up getting on a bus and crying the entire ride.
How could Maddie know what she’s feeling? How are you supposed to feel when someone like their father finally bites the dust? When he’s the only father you had and you were supposed to love him but couldn’t ?
“Mom wants us to come home ,” Maddie says, and her voice has an edge to it that it didn’t have before.
Buck’s stomach drops. He feels his face clouding, and he knows his own eyes are filling with tears.
I’m not coming home. I’m never coming back. Not as long as he’s there.
Is their mom still mad at him for saying that? Is she still ashamed of Buck?
Buck hears the sound of footfalls behind them. Before either of them can pull themselves together, Eddie is clasping a hand on Buck’s shoulders and Chimney is coming to wrap his arms around Maddie, surprised to see her at the station at this time of day. But Buck goes tense under Eddie’s touch, and Maddie looks so miserable that Chimney freezes mid-hug.
“What’s wrong?” Chimney asks in a painfully worried voice. “Maddie, are you okay?”
Maddie looks at Chimney with a weak smile. Buck feels Eddie trying to turn Buck in his direction, trying to look Buck in the face. But Buck won’t budge.
“No,” Buck growls. He answers the question Chimney asked, and the one Maddie did not.
Chimney and Eddie both look at Buck, confused and concerned. Buck shakes Eddie’s hand off of his shoulder. Then he turns and walks away, trying to block out the sound of Eddie’s voice. Trying--and failing--to stop his own tears from falling down his face.
##
Edward Buckley was a decorated war veteran with several medals and honors. After leaving the army, he joined city council, became the owner of the most successful car repair shop in Hershey, Pennsylvania, and built a reputation for being the quintessential, all-American businessman. Edward was known for rubbing elbows with politicians while also chatting with constituents and satisfied customers at grocery stores. He was known as a family man, with a beautiful wife and two smart, beautiful children. Edward Buckley was beloved by his whole community.
Edward Buckley was also a violent, unstable man who spent his free time punching his only son Evan in the stomach. Edward would drink until he staggered, scream at his daughter Madison for acting like a “trashy slut” and cheat on his wife Patricia Buckley née Johnson with the neighbor woman who volunteered to babysit Evan and Madison.
Edward once broke Evan’s arm because Evan forgot to take out the trash for the second time in a week. On several occasions, Edward told Madison that she was lucky that she was prettier than her mother, because she was so empty-headed that there was no way she would make in the world without a rich husband to help her along. At night, his children would sneak into each other’s room and whisper about how much they wished they were anywhere else other than their home. Some nights, Madison would wonder aloud about what would happen if Edward were to just drop dead and permanently leave them alone.
Edward Buckley died of a massive heart attack on Sunday, February 16. He is survived by his estranged wife Patricia, and his even more estranged children, who now calls themselves Maddie and Buck. Edward’s funeral services will be held Saturday, February 22.
##
Buck’s leg won’t stop shaking.
He’s sitting on a bench in the locker, his elbows propped up on his knees, his head hanging down. Buck ran in here because he thought it’d be quiet. But the noise in his brain only gets louder in the tight space. And now his leg won’t stop shaking.
It’s like Buck’s been tased: he can feel electricity tearing through his chest, making his insides come undone. Buck feels his skin buzzing, and his nerves are feeling more and more frayed. His leg keeps shaking, and Buck’s wondering if the shaking will dislodge something inside of him. Maybe it’ll shake loose this damn feeling he has, the one that’s been sitting in his stomach for the past 30 minutes. Maybe the constant, unnecessary motion is exactly what Buck needs to sort through the mess that is his memories.
“Buck . . . ?”
It’s Eddie, sounding more hesitant than Buck’s ever heard.
Buck lifts his head to see Eddie and Bobby slowly walking into the locker room. Bobby hovers around the entrance, ready to step out if Buck asks him to. Eddie, however, strides right over to Buck, invasive in a way that only a best friend can be. He sits down right next to Buck and peers into his face with soft brown eyes.
“Buck? Do you want to talk?” Eddie says quietly. He knows how to talk to people who have lost someone. And he knows--all too well--what it’s like to have someone try to talk to him after he’s lost someone.
Buck abruptly stands up, his movements jerky and clumsy. He fidgets before turning to face his locker, his back to Eddie and Bobby. Buck’s whole body shakes now, the electricity still running through his veins.
“No, I’m good,” Buck says, as he fumbles with his locker. “I’m fine.”
He hears total silence, and he knows that Bobby and Eddie are exchanging a look. Buck’s a terrible liar. But even if he wasn’t, who the fuck is fine after this type of news?
“Buck,” Bobby says too gently, “ your father just passed. You’re allowed to not be fine. ”
Buck snatches his clothes and bag out of his locker. “I know. But I am. I’m okay, I’m good.”
Buck feels Eddie stand up. Eddie cautiously puts his hand on Buck’s forearm, and, for a moment, Buck freezes to the spot.
“Buck, it’s okay,” Eddie says. “We’re not trying to push you to cry or anything. But you don’t have to hold it in--”
Buck slams locker shut.
“It’s not like that! It’s not the same!” he blurts out. Eddie and Bobby both flinch, and Buck instantly hates himself.
Buck’s face turns read. “I mean--my dad wasn’t like your dad,” he mutters.
And that’s fucking stupid, because how does he know what Bobby and Eddie’s dads were like? They could’ve been just as bad. Or worse, even.
Neither of them offer information about their fathers. They just both watch Buck warily, like he’s a wild cub that might scratch their eyes out if they’re not careful.
“Okay,” Bobby says after a moment. “Just know that we’re both here for you. Anytime you need either of us.”
Buck nods stiffly at Bobby. He really is grateful, even though he can’t begin to show it.
Eddie doesn’t say anything. Instead, Eddie puts his hand high on Buck’s shoulder, his thumb landing on Buck’s collarbone. Eddie looks Buck in the eyes, and Buck wants to collapse into Eddie’s arms. Buck wants to fall into Eddie’s arms and bury his face in the side of Eddie’s neck and sob and scream and sob and scream until he’s gone hoarse and he can’t stand on his own two feet anymore.
But Buck just blinks at Eddie. Then he slowly removes Eddie’s hand and steps around him.
“I need to talk to Maddie,” Buck mumbles, and he tries to ignore the look on his best friend’s face.
Buck leaves Eddie and Bobby both in the locker room. He can feel them both watching his back as he goes.