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Buck is half asleep, watching a rerun of the game he'd missed while on shift the day prior. It's quiet, it's late, and he's just debating on making the move up to bed when his phone starts buzzing in his hands.
Now, not many people call him in the first place, let alone when it's past midnight, so there's instantly worry nagging at the back of his mind. And then he sees Eddie's name and his heart practically jumps out of his chest, because Eddie isn't the kind of guy who makes just-for-fun calls at 12:47 AM.
He answers the call in a split-second—barely after the second ring. "Hello?" He greets lightly, despite his underlying anxiousness.
"Buck..." A stifled groan comes through the speaker and a loud crash follows shortly after. "—shit..."
"Eddie?" Buck says after a moment, a frown starting to inch its way across his face. "You alright?"
Eddie lets out a wobbly breath, "I'm..."
"Eds." Buck voices worriedly, already getting up and hunting down his jacket and shoes. "Come on, talk to me."
"Can you—" Eddie murmurs in a shaky, pained tone. "—I need you."
"I'm on my way, alright? Just hold on." Buck replies instantly, his hands hastily grabbing at his keys as he heads toward the door. Buck is about to speak again when Eddie hangs up just as suddenly as he'd called. There are no questions asked even though Buck desperately wants to know what the hell is going on.
As he drives, Buck tries to keep the worst case scenarios from taking over his mind, but it's hard when the last thing he heard was Eddie's soft, pleading desperate voice. He tries to call Eddie twice on the way over but it rings out both times, which just escalates Buck's anxiety. He knows he's guilty of at least four traffic violations by the time he pulls into Eddie's driveway, but he can't bring himself to care.
He's greeted at the door by a nervous Eddie who can't quite meet his eyes. He's wearing a black hoodie, fully zipped with the hood popped. Buck takes in the way the man stands, leaning his weight into the doorframe, gripping his own side like it'll fall apart if he doesn't. His face is slick with a sweat that covers most of his body, and the damp bits of hair that poke out from under his hood stick to his forehead.
"Eddie." Buck whispers, his own feet frozen to the spot he stands.
"I can't..." Eddie mumbles brokenly, a tear falling from his eye. There's genuine fear lingering in the hazel and he looks like he's doing his best to keep it together, but Buck can see him breaking at the seams already.
Buck's mind clicks into gear, he steps inside, and he gently pulls Eddie into his arms.
Eddie seems to choke on a sob, like he's trying to fight off the onslaught of emotions, and then in the next second he's letting it all go. He's not expecting the warmth and safety of Buck's embrace, and it's only a fraction of a second before he completely melts into the other man. Big arms tighten securely around his battered form—and he knows he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve to be held like this—like he means something. He should be rotting somewhere with the rest of the world's scum because somewhere down the line he's turned into this rage-filled monster. He's let down his friends, his family, and most of all, his best friend and his son—and for what? The fighting might've been cathartic at first, but now he's tired.
Eddie is tired. He's in pain. He's scared. He's more anxious than he's ever been.
Buck can feel the hot, salty tears seep through his shirt and onto his shoulder and his heart breaks a little with every wracked sob that claims Eddie's lungs. "What happened?" He murmurs carefully, one hand cradling the back of Eddie's head while the other is curled around his lower back.
"I—I'm... Awhile ago, after the tsunami, I got into some stuff...I started street fighting." Eddie mumbles against his neck, face torn up in anguish as he hears himself say the words aloud. He'd never wanted to tell anyone, he'd never wanted anyone to know—but he's done fighting, both literally and figuratively.
"Eddie..." Buck breathes out. "That's where the bruises—?"
Eddie nods against him and makes a fragmented attempt at speaking but he ends up just choking on his words and pulling away from Buck quickly. The words worthless and undeserving ping around the inside of his skull, ramping up the headache that he already has.
Buck knows that he should be mad, that maybe he should start lecturing or telling him off, but Eddie already looks absolutely devastated at himself and Buck isn't sure that he wants to try and make it worse just yet. He just wants to take care of Eddie, but first— "Where's Christopher?"
"Abuela's. For the weekend." Eddie's scrubbing his hands over his face, mumbling some soft words in Spanish that Buck can't quite hear through the tears.
"Okay, good." Buck lets out a short breath and closes the distance that Eddie's put between them, "Maybe we should get you checked out at the hospital?"
"No," Eddie shakes his head vigorously.
"Eddie..." Buck's tone is warning.
Eddie shakes his head once again and looks up at Buck with broken, tear-filled eyes. "No."
"Fine, but I'm at least looking you over myself. And I'm cleaning you up."
Eddie gives a partial nod, but it's more out of resignation than anything else. He supposes it's the best compromise he could hope for, but he really doesn't want Buck to see what he's got going on underneath his clothes.
Buck takes a breath and begins tentatively guiding Eddie to the bathroom.
Buck flips on the lights, switches on the faucet in the shower, and then he turns to Eddie. It's brighter here and every emotion he'd seen on his face earlier is intensified now. There are tears mixed with sweat, and Buck notices blood dripping down the side of his face now that he's looking at him with halfway-decent lighting. He hesitantly pulls down Eddie's hood and starts running his hands over his head, checking for bumps and contusions.
His assessment of Eddie isn't clinical like it could be. Buck takes his time, tries to avoid pressing down too hard on anything tender, and attempts to calm Eddie down in the process. Beneath the pain and the futile attempts of putting on a brave face, he's definitely in shock; his hands are shaking and his breaths are shallow and sporadic.
His head is clean of anything major, but there are definitely enough cuts and bruises that Buck is pretty confident Eddie'll have a headache tomorrow. He's just glad neither of them have to work in the morning.
Buck unzips Eddie's hoodie slowly, uses his fingertips to guide the thin black material off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor in a small heap. He holds back the words that come to the front of his mouth as he takes in the rainbow of bruises—the new and old bruises—that Eddie's been so dutifully hiding from everyone. There are scrapes and cuts in various stages of healing that litter the tired body, and Buck finds himself trying to imagine how each one had come to be. They move in time with the breaths that Eddie takes, reminding Buck that at least—at fucking least—his best friend is still alive. Because there isn't a lot of positivity in what he's seeing, and he's gotta find something to hold onto in all of this.
Buck steels himself. He takes all the tears that are threatening to come to his eyes, he takes his frustration and his confusion, he takes everything, and he shoves it deep down inside himself where nothing can touch it. He can't let this get to him. He has to be strong. Strong for Eddie.
Because he's got Eddie's back.
There's bruising around Eddie's ribs, so Buck's hands gravitate there next. He's pushing and prodding and he can tell that Eddie can barely stand it, but it needs to be done. Buck moves on to inspect some of the more noticeable gashes, paying special attention to the large one just under his ribs that he'd obviously gotten tonight; it's deep, but thankfully not quite stitch worthy.
Part of him still wants to get Eddie checked out at the hospital, just for the peace of mind, but the rest of him knows that that isn't the right priority. His injuries, while daunting in their quantity, aren't life-threatening to any degree and he certainly isn't going to push Eddie to go. Not when he's being the most vulnerable and open that Buck has ever seen, and definitely not when there's so much riding on it.
The air in bathroom is starting to get heavy with the shower's steam as Buck tentatively tugs down on the waistband of Eddie's joggers. There's more bruising, but it's not nearly as bad as the top half of his body. Still, it breaks Buck's heart.
When he rises, after Eddie's mostly undressed, he finally gets a glimpse into those big, beautiful eyes he's come to love. They're a little bloodshot and a little haunted, but they're still perfect to Buck.
Buck lays his hands on Eddie's waist and gently guides him toward the shower. Eddie feels his heart racing out of control at the very thought of stepping under the spray, and he freezes on the spot just inches away.
Though confused, Buck isn't fazed. "Eds?" He whispers softly, the sound barely making its way to Eddie's ears over the roar of the shower.
Eddie just shakes his head and his breathing picks up.
"What's wrong?"
Eddie doesn't say anything for several minutes and Buck is getting more worried with every passing second. He knows he's gotta do something, especially once Eddie starts shivering.
Buck finally throws caution to the wind, shrugs off his shirt and his pants, and steps under the spray like it's the most normal thing in the world. He turns to a slightly bewildered looking Eddie and tentatively reaches out his arms in invitation.
Eddie glances at Buck's arms, then to his eyes, and steps in a second later. It should be weird—them being together in the shower—but it's actually the opposite, it's intimate and reassuring in a way that they both need so badly right now.
He lets Buck ease him under the water and he looks down in time to see the strikingly red hue of the liquid circle the drain. Eddie shutters and immediately starts scrubbing at the blood that's soaked into his hands after tonight's fight. Blood he's just noticed, blood that probably isn't even his. He scrubs and scrubs and even after his hands are clean, he continues to scrub. Two fingers under his chin bring his vision back up.
His eyes meet pools of ocean blue and his red, raw hands immediately drop down to his sides. Buck wants to ask a million questions, but instead, he pulls Eddie into his arms, holding him steady and swaying slightly.
"Aren't you going to yell?" Eddie chokes out dryly, resting his head against Buck's shoulder as the water falls over them, feeling safe and warm in Buck's solid grip. He doesn't deserve to be protected like this, to be cared about, not after what he did. Eddie shrugs heavily, the world on his shoulders. The tears have started flowing again but the water washes them away.
"No," Buck pauses momentarily, "but Eddie, I need to know if... if you plan to keep doing this. Fighting, putting yourself in danger. Because if you are—"
"I want to be done, Buck." Eddie nods his head wearily, "I knocked some guy's nose into his skull tonight... I can't—" he pauses for a lengthy moment, "—I want to be done."
"Okay." Buck trails his hand up and down Eddie's spine thoughtfully. He wants to talk more about the what went down, ask him why he hasn't quit already, maybe help remind him of all the reasons his dumb ass shouldn't have gotten into it in the first place. But he knows that Eddie's drained already. With the way he's slumped against Buck now, he's gotta be. "That's good enough for me."
A small nod is all that an exhausted Eddie can conjure.
Buck looks down at him fondly and loosens his grip a little so he can reach for the shampoo. He starts washing Eddie's hair, and Eddie can barely keep his eyes open; the light massaging of his scalp is relaxing and makes him feel like a whole new person, even if the soap burns a little against his open wounds.
After he carefully rinses the lather away and leaves Eddie's feeling somewhat refreshed, Buck cleans up every little scratch and scrape. The water continues to run slightly pink down the drain and Buck starts wondering exactly how much blood Eddie's lost so far. Judging by how pale and shaky Eddie is, it's probably a decent amount, so Buck tries to quicken his tender movements. He finishes just as the water starts turning cold and he finally leads a calm, clean Eddie out of the shower.
The way Buck dries him off is gentle; he's trying not to reopen the old wounds or irritate tender areas. It's undeniably intimate but that bothers neither of them because they know how much they both need this deep connection, this anchor that's keeping them both from blowing away.
Eddie frowns as his slightly glazed eyes trail over Buck's shoulders. The rippling muscles are covered by a shirt once again and Eddie is a little confused as he tries to recall when exactly Buck had managed to get redressed and how he had possibly missed that. He silently blames it on one too many knocks to the head and tries a little harder to focus when he sees Buck grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink.
Eddie just watches as Buck pulls out gauze, tape, and antiseptic, and when Buck starts working on him, he tries not to wince. Buck's deep in concentration, rolling out gauze and covering the up the blood with the bright white cotton. His expression is strangely guarded through the lengthy process and it worries Eddie a little, but his lips stay shut. He knows he's really not in a position to start lines of questioning, especially when he's been the one hiding everything.
So he doesn't say anything and he tries his best to stay awake as he stands there, hands braced against the sink as Buck tapes up contusions on his back. He's doing well for the most part, but soon his eyes begin drifting closed and he's finding that he can barely stay upright. He's tired—so undeniably tired. He sways a little, feels his body falling a little to one side.
Buck, who's just started putting supplies back into the first aid kit, quickly reaches out and wraps strong arms around him. Eddie's knees feel weak and he feels them partially give out before he can even react, but it doesn't matter—Buck's got him. He's got him, so it doesn't matter.
"—'m sorry." Eddie mumbles, shaking his head slowly.
"It's fine." Buck whispers, switching his grip. He places one arm under Eddie's back and hooks the other under his legs, carefully lifting him into his strong grip. Eddie just barely catches a glimpse of Buck's profile before his eyes briefly tug themselves closed. Next thing he knows, he's laying on his bed, dressed in a comfy pair of sweatpants, and the blankets are being pulled up and over him.
"You gonna stay?" Eddie mumbles, looking up at Buck through heavy eyes and making an uncoordinated grab for his hand.
Buck smiles softly, but there's still so much weight on his chest and he can barely breathe. "Yeah."
Eddie groggily pats the mattress beside him—it's the best invitation he can manage.
Buck looks at the empty side of the bed for a few moments then switches his gaze back to Eddie. He doesn't really say anything as he turns off the light and makes his way under the covers beside Eddie, but he doesn't need to. Tonight is beyond the reach of words.
For Eddie, the following morning brings the rare comfort of not waking up alone. He's immediately struck with the feeling of being all wrapped up in Buck's strong arms, quickly followed by the events of the night before. He inwardly groans at his own behaviour and recklessness, but he certainly isn't going to complain too much, seeing as it all ended with Buck by his side.
In an attempt to hold onto the peace, he doesn't move or open his eyes for a long while. He focuses, not on his glaring headache, but on the soft breaths that tickle the back of his neck, and the arm that's wrapped so securely around him, fingers splayed over his chest.
He wonders what this day will bring. Wonders if Buck is going make him explain everything—fuck knows he owes him some answers.
"I can hear you thinking." Buck whispers softly.
"—'m sorry." Eddie mumbles, reaching to cover Buck's hand with his own.
A quiet hum emerges from Buck as he pulls the other man impossibly closer. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I got hit by a bus. A six-foot-one, hundred-seventy pound bus."
"You were in rough shape last night." Buck replies tentatively.
Eddie lets out a soft breath. "Yeah I know, I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess."
"I'm glad you called. I mean, it scared the hell out of me and if you ever hang up on me like that again, I'll kill you myself—but I'm glad you called." Buck responds, his lips pressing a light kiss into Eddie's hair, the light scent of shampoo still lingering. "Also, if you think I'm letting you out of my sight at all over the next month, you're sorely mistaken."
Eddie chuckles softly, "I don't deserve you."
"You're right." Buck smiles into Eddie. "You deserve better, but I guess you'll just have to settle for me."
Eddie turns around in Buck's arms, burying his face into Buck's worn t-shirt. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the familiarity and warmth of Buck's scent, mixed with his own body wash. "It's the other way around," he says in a barely audible whisper, "I'm not the man you think I am."
"Hey, no. You're every bit the person that I fell in love with—"
Eddie's head shoots up, eyes widening as he looks down at Buck—who's only got a sheepish grin to show for as he lays there. "You—?"
"Yeah." Buck nods quickly. "And I love Christopher. And whatever you guys need, I'm always here for you. I know that it's probably going to be tough to get past this whole fighting thing, but Eddie I'm here—"
"You—you love me?" Eddie whispers incredulously, his lips slightly parted.
Buck nods once more, "I've loved you for almost as long as I've known you, Diaz, I don't know why you're so surprised."
"But," Eddie pauses, shaking his head, "I've lied and hid things and been an asshole and cut you off even after the lawsuit was over with and...and there's no reason why you should forgive me for any of it, let alone love me."
"Underneath the bruises and the anger, you're still the same guy I pulled a grenade out of someone's leg with. You're still caring, strong, amazing, and there for me in ways that nobody else ever has been. You're my Eddie, alright? You're just going through a rough patch, but you're still my Eddie."
Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, unshed tears clinging to his eyes as he drags his gaze up to meet Buck's. "I love you so fucking much, Evan."
"C'mere." Buck grins widely, pulling Eddie towards him and into his arms, his heart jumping in his chest when Eddie grips him back fiercely and lets himself be held. "Everything's going to be okay."
"I know." Eddie nods, choking back a desperate sound that lodges itself in the back of his throat. "Do you have anywhere to be today?"
"No," Buck smiles, gently running a hand through Eddie's hair, "I'm all yours."
Eddie lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, relief washing over him. "Good. So we can stay in bed all day?"
"Well, we have to get some breakfast into you and then I should check on some of those deeper cuts, but after that, I think bed all day sounds great. As long as you can put up with my unintentional blanket stealing tendencies."
"I think I can handle that," Eddie responds with a wet laugh and lets his body relax completely into Buck's. "Thank you. For everything."
Buck presses a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "I've got your back any day, remember?"