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“Don’t tell me you were actually worried, Buck,” Eddie chuckled. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with me.”
It was a joke. It was obviously a joke, but the next five seconds changed everything. Buck’s voice caught in his throat and suddenly time stopped. The air itself thickened around them and muffled the surrounding chaos, drowning out sirens and sounds of agitated chatter, snuffing street lights and the flashing blue and red of police cars. Somewhere, high up, stars might have been shining, unacknowledged or simply drowned out. The universe itself leaned in. All slowed and softened, until there was only Buck and Eddie against a fuzzy black wall from all angles.
Buck gawked stupidly at Eddie for five whole seconds, wide-eyed and dropped-jawed, begging himself to say something, play it off, respond in kind, laugh, roll his eyes, even run away---God, anything to save face, to hide, to keep from betraying himself to his best friend. He couldn’t. He stood there, paralyzed, heart in plain sight as one stray tear escaped his porcelain eyes. Eddie’s eyes darkened from lighthearted teasing to heartbroken understanding. Buck’s silence spoke volumes. After five of the longest seconds in the history of time and without a single word, Eddie knew everything.
The world on hold, both of them entranced, Eddie reached over to Buck to wipe the tear from his cheek, Eddie’s steady eyes boring a hole into Buck’s. Eddie’s hand cupped Buck’s face, thumb wiping away the tear, tenderly lingering when---
A voice---Bobby’s. The quiet, eavesdropping universe snapped back suddenly, full force, into time and space, with blaring sirens and dancing emergency lights, a sea of movement all around. Eddie’s hand snapped down back to his side as he turned to face Bobby. Buck looked down, turning the other direction.
Later, at the station, on the couch, head lowered, a dejected Buck turned to his friend, leaned in, and quietly spoke. “I really thought we were going to lose you, Eddie, and there was nothing I could do about it. I’ve never been that scared before.”
Eddie smiled faintly, head down, eyes on the floor in front of him, leaning toward Buck. “We have close calls all the time, Buck. I---”
“It was different this time,” Buck interrupted, slightly heightened.
Eddie’s gazed still scoured the floor. Usually stubborn and cheeky, this time he relented. “You’re right. It was too dangerous. It was reckless of me to run in like that.”
Buck leaned forward, sinking his face in his hands, suppressing sobs but not his anguish. “Especially by yourself, Eddie! How was I supposed to have your back? One misstep and you could have died! How was I supposed to accept that? How could I have ever forgiven myself? How would I have explained that to Christopher?” Buck was heating up, rambling, hardly pausing to take a breath, turning his face toward Eddie on the couch but not meeting his eyes, “You’re the closest thing to a real family I’ve ever had, you know? I would do anything for you and Christopher. That kid has my entire heart. This is the best it's been for me, Eddie, ever, in my whole life. I'd die if anything happened to either of you.” Buck was still escalating, growing more intense but now quieter as choked-back sobs threatened to spill over, “And you ran away! Thought you were being a hero, but you ran! Against orders, without backup, without even thinking, headfirst into a place where I couldn't protect you!" Eddie, listening, swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. "I understand what it means to be a firefighter, Eddie, really, I get it. I'm there with you. But Eddie, please, don't ever leave me again! Not like that!” Buck’s sobs took over as he sunk his head into his arms, his hands reaching up to cover his head.
Eddie sat up, having heard both what Buck did and did not say. “Buck,” he hesitated, placing a hopefully consoling hand to Buck’s shoulder, “Buck, do you really think I would ever leave you?”
Buck wished he could disappear. He hated Eddie seeing him like this. He melted into his arms, trying to hide his despair. Twenty-some odd years flashed before his eyes in an instant. He replied bleakly, muffled, still sobbing, voice breaking, “Everyone I love always does.”
Eddie closed his eyes and exhaled as he allowed Buck’s response sink in. He felt his heart shatter like glass into pieces. Leaning forward, Eddie turned to Buck and wrapped his arms around him. Buck shrunk into the embrace and heard Eddie's quiet, gentle response. “It’s different this time.”