Chapter Text
-Buck-
The apartment was quieter than he was used to since Albert had moved in with Chimney and Maddie, they had insisted he stay till he fully recovered since both Maddie and Chim were on leave and could take turns taking care of Albert and Jee-Yun. He couldn’t blame Chim- he wanted to be there for his brother. But that left Buck alone in his apartment again.
He pushed back the wave of nausea as he pulled himself off from the couch, the apartment was dark- the television off, the only light was from the kitchen overhead lights, which gave the apartment a weird haunted look. He didn’t mind it now- it creeped him out when he first moved in.
He thought he was doing better.
And he was.
He knew he was, thanks to the pandemic he wasn’t going back to his old ways of just having random hookups to feel distracted.
He had a routine now- he had a routine around his work schedule. He would wake up early in the morning and work out at home, clean up, drink a smoothie, go to work, therapy, and socialize.
And repeat and it worked- most days.
But he really wasn’t doing well. He didn’t think it was obvious since he kept up his appearance to the others.
He knew he should be more honest and not hide his feelings only to let them bubble and explode later. But he didn’t think it was worth it now. Everyone had their own family, their own problem- he wasn’t going to put his troubles on them, again.
He sighed as he pulled out another bottle of beer, his sixth tonight. He wasn’t drunk.
He was fuzzy. Just warm and content to not feel anything that was bothering him.
A reprieve from all those damn thoughts and loneliness.
Once he finished the pack, he broke open a case of beer.
Next day…
The next day was the usual work day. A factory fire here, a three car pile up there, and a group of freaking tiktokers who decided to see if they could fit their dicks’ into pipes…Hen couldn’t stop laughing after that call as the men (Buck included) kept wincing in sympathy.
Buck though was adamant about getting through his job without issue or worry. He had woken up with a slight headache, but two cups of coffee and a lot of mouth wash had made him feel better.
He talked to Hen, making sure to focus on just her and would reroute the conversation if she asked about him. Even when she told him that she didn’t want to talk about her feelings anymore, Buck just distracted her about random things.
Oh, he definitely talked about his new niece and how Albert was doing. But as soon as the conversation looked like it was going to start being about him or how he was feeling, he changed the topic.
He didn’t want to be seen as needy or exhausted by anyone, and despite Dr. Copeland suggesting it was better for him to state how he was feeling when he was feeling, he couldn’t.
It never really helped, it was just better if let people walk in and out of his life as they pleased. No more needing someone, no more validation or family- he could do that.
Later that night, he had finished the case of beer and moved onto the nice bottles of wine he usually saved for dinner parties.
3 days later…
It was his day off, he hated these days and he unfortunately couldn’t get extra shifts despite begging the others to see if any of them wanted off.
It messed up his routine and it made it harder to focus on his other tasks, he would become fidgety and anxious.
It was when his depression would really hit differently.
His latest appointment with Df. Copeland wasn’t great either. She could see right through him, how his ADHD was starting to come through more now since he had dropped his routine and was now so prone in keeping his feelings and thoughts to himself.
“Evan, we talked about keeping to your routine. It was helping.” Dr. Copeland reminded him gently, her face filled with concern as she took in Buck’s appearance over the video call. His hair held no products, so it was curly and sticking up straight, he had three days worth of stubble now covering his jaw since couldn’t find the patience to shave as usual, and his eyes were blood shot.
“I have been, I just…been distracted is all.” Buck answered cheerfully.
Dr. Copeland studied his face for a moment, “What have you been doing instead?” she asked carefully.
“Still working, been trying to meet new people here and there.” Buck answered, sighing a bit as he tried not to wince at how horrible his date ended up the night before.
He hadn’t drank at all- which was good.
But he did end up having sex in his jeep.
“Well, I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there.” Dr. Copeland congratulated him, her smile genuine. “But, I will remind you to take it easy Evan.” She continued, looking wearily at him as she took in his body language. His shoulders became hunched and she could almost hear his knee shaking against his chair. “You’re still reeling from a lot of things, not to mention with your addictive personality you need to be cautious about who you let in and how you pace the relationship.”
Buck tried not to wince, he already botched that by having sex with someone on the first date. “I know.” He groaned, letting his head drop for a moment. “Meaningful connections and all that.” He reminded himself, “I’ll do better in pacing myself, I promise.” He told her.
Dr. Copeland only looked at him for a moment before writing something quickly down on her desk. “Evan, these sessions are not for you to make promises to me, its for you to be honest with yourself. Can you pace yourself?”
Buck tried not to grit his teeth, “Yes.”
“Okay then…” she looked down at her notes, “Have you told Maddie about what your parents told you during our last session?”
Buck tensed at that, he hadn’t and he knew he couldn’t- especially now with Jee-Yun being born and knowing his parents were on their way to see her. He couldn’t face Maddie yet about what they told him.
“No.” He answered honestly, feeling the buzz from the few beers he drank earlier dissipate. “I-I don’t think it’s the right time to tell Maddie what happened. Especially when she’s so excited about her parents becoming involved.”
He thought Dr. Copeland would correct him, but she didn’t. He looked to see her face, a shared expression of disappointment that matched his own.
Later that night…
He was now drinking vodka, he had finished the half a bottle of rum and then realized it wasn’t cutting it- he never understood how people got wasted on coke and rum.
Vodka though…
That was a different type of poison altogether.
‘Vodka is a mean bitch.’ Buck would later think once he woke up for his shift the next morning.
It was really a bitch drink, because it had made Buck pull out his phone and open to a picture of Daniel and set it down on the floor. Leading Buck to sit down on the floor in his kitchen across from Daniel.
“I sort of hate you.” Buck confessed, tears already threatening to fall. “Like I know that’s really unfair because I think you would have been a really cool big brother.” He sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hands.
The whole damn apartment felt sweltering hot and small now.
“I just hate the way you have mom and dad’s heart, like you utterly destroyed it and left no pieces for me and Maddie.” He looked at the smiling picture of Daniel, barely even seven. Buck thought for a moment of Christopher and his contagious smile.
“I- I keep thinking what it would have been like if you lived, maybe you and I would be living together? Become firefighters together or something? Maybe you and I could own a food truck or something and drive up the coast.” Buck smiled, despite the feeling of his stomach churning from the amount of alcohol in his system. “But then…but then I remember why I was born and things that really shitty.” He sighed, “If you had never have gotten sick, I wouldn’t be here.” He mumbled, pulling his legs closer to his chest. He swallowed a few gulps of vodka for a moment, never really breaking eye contact from the picture. “You and Maddie would be together and I would be nothing. But hey, you got the final laugh, right? You’re dead and I’m alone.” He took another hit of the bottle, “I failed you like I failed at so many other things, no wonder your mom and dad hate me.” He laughed, “They really really really hate me and I don’t blame them.” He sighed, not realizing he was finally crying. “They can’t get over you and they don’t want to admit to me that they hate me because I couldn’t do the one thing that would have eased their guilt over you dying!” he sobbed, a weird choked laughter breaking through. “How fucked up is that?” he kept staring at Daniel, finishing the bottle completely.
“Nearly 30 fucking years of me trying to figure out why they could never create an attachment with me- that’s Dr. Copeland’s wording by the way- only to find out I was in a competition with a ghost over mommy and daddy’s love.” He knocked his head back a few times, each bang against the cupboard harder than the last. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his breathing as the tears continued to fall. Buck got up and pulled open another bottle of vodka, not even bothering to get a glass. He raised the bottle in the air in toast to Daniel. “To the better Buckley son.”
The next morning…
He felt Bobby’s eyes on him the whole day.
Buck smiled, a bit taken back by the frown on Bobby’s face deepening. “What’s up, Cap?” Buck asked as Bobby pulled him aside to help him get the team’s lunch ready.
The rest of the team were doing their own thing so the loft was pretty sparse.
“You okay?” Bobby asked quietly as he watched Buck cut up vegetable for a skillet that Bobby was planning to make. “You’ve been pretty quiet the past few days, everything alright?”
Buck nodded, careful to maintain eye contact with Bobby. “Yeah, same ol’ stuff.” He shrugged, “How are things with you and Athena?”
Bobby paused what he was doing (cutting up the chicken for the skillet) and smirked for a bit. “We’re okay. We’re actually worried about you.” Bobby said easily, “You just seem, different.”
Buck shrugged again, placing the knife down. “That a bad thing or a good thing?”
“I don’t know yet.” Bobby looked up at him, his voice wry. “You know you can come to me if you need to talk, right? I mean, I know you have your therapist, but my door is always open for you.”
Buck could feel how tight his smile was, “Thanks Bobby.”
If this would have taken place a few months ago, Buck would have been flattered and touched, but now…it just felt like a hallow promise.
People leave and go, Buck knew that. And some people, just said stuff- he knew that too.
The sooner he would come to accepting that the 118 were just people and not his family, the sooner he could move on.