Chapter Text
Evan Buckley wore his heart on his sleeve.
Anyone who knew him – hell, anyone who’d met the man – could see it, plain as day.
He put his heart and soul into his work, the fire in his eyes burning brighter than those he fought. Ever eager to prove his worth, he took risks, made choices others called reckless, pushed himself to his limit and beyond. This job of his was more than just a job – it was a reminder that no matter how much shit life throws at you, someone will be there to help. He will be there to help. This job was his one-finger salute to life, to circumstance, to being in the wrong place at the wrong time. For him, being a firefighter was his calling – his raison d’être – and once he had a hold on it, he vowed to never let go.
He stuck true to that promise when he joined the 118. His need to help others rivaled only that of his need for connection; if he chose to find it with a different person every night, well, that was between him and his bed. He had learned early on to take what he could get and if all he could get was a night of meaningless sex, it was at least better than the alternative. It made relationships easier, too; hook-ups were never meant to last, and this way he could at least prepare himself for when they left. It was always them who left first. He was used to being the one left behind.
He never hid his hook-ups from his team; showing off the notches on his belt was a surefire way to get people to look away. Only when it nearly cost him his job did Buck realize he had to weigh his life choices against his life’s purpose. So he reevaluated, remade Evan Buckley so that his life never got in the way of his reason to be.
Abby helped with that. She was solid ground Buck could finally walk on, after years of treading water. She was a constant point in his life, granting him that inner need for connection without the pain that usually followed. And life was good. He had his job, his team (his family), his Abby. The ash had settled, the fire burning through his life snuffed out.
And Abby left.
Buck thought this was what would break him, the pain too much to bear. Abby left, like everyone always did, and he was alone. It was only a matter of time before the 118 left him too. So he convinced himself she was coming back. He hadn’t been left behind; he was just waiting for her to come home.
So he waited. And in came Edmundo Diaz.
There was more to his initial hostility towards Eddie than the others knew; Eddie was a reminder of a past version of himself that he kept locked away. Even before the thought had fully formed in his mind, Buck chased it away, letting the feeling of jealousy overtake it. Because he was jealous. Jealous of how easily Eddie fit into the team. Jealous of how simple Eddie made it seem. Jealous because Eddie’s demons were known to the world, even in the abstract. No one knew Buck’s demons; no one knew he had demons. He made sure of it.
So in came walking this physical representation of a Buck no one on the team knew existed, and Buck shifted into being an asshole, thinking if the new guy never got close, Buck would never have to face his demons.
And then he and Eddie were pulling a live grenade out of a guy’s leg, trusting each other with their lives, and a flicker of remembrance had flashed through Buck. He knew he couldn’t push Eddie away; the former army medic fit too seamlessly into their team. So Buck did the next best thing.
He kept Eddie close. After all, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?
It wasn’t hard for the two to become friends; in fact, it was a bit too easy, the way Buck and Eddie fell into being partners. Eddie hadn’t questioned it, knowing what kind of person Buck was when they first met – a man who didn’t hide his emotions. Buck was genuine, open and honest, and when he dropped his hostility, Eddie couldn’t help but be drawn into the brightness that was Buck.
Buck knew better. Eddie had been drawn in, sure, but a part of Buck had pulled. A part of Buck had broken through the fog, drawn to the kinship Buck knew was in Eddie, and was desperately trying to make itself known. Buck was ready for that pull, saw it coming the moment Bobby introduced Eddie. So he dug his heels in and held his ground. He couldn’t walk away from it; he knew by now that was not an option, but at least he could hold it at bay, until it tired itself out and retreated back into the fog.
And then he got crushed by a ladder truck.
The team didn’t understand why Buck had tried so hard to get his job back – his full job, being out on calls and helping people. They didn’t know why Buck would go so far as to push away family for a job. They didn’t know what lurked behind Buck’s intense need to get back to work; Buck would never tell them, even if someone knew to ask.
And then he was back. He and the team became family again, and the buzzing in his head that had resurfaced while he was alone quieted down to a low hum, easy enough to ignore. Once again, Evan Buckley was remade, and even the return of Abby wasn’t enough to shake his control. The pain flared when he saw her at that wreck, but he had stopped fanning the flames long ago. He got closure, a rare occurrence in Buck’s life, and he moved on. That chapter of Evan Buckley was finally finished, and maybe now life could go back to some semblance of good.
So of course his demons came knocking.