Chapter Text
July 1999
Buck had never been nervous before. Not like this. Swimming was swimming. Buck was really good at it, and so he typically jumped right into a pool and took off with his practiced strokes without a single flicker of nerves.
But this was Nationals. And there were a lot of people here. At six years old, Buck was on the younger side of the group of competitors in his “Ten and Under” age range. His mother had driven him and his sister here to some place called Minneapolis all the way from Hershey, Pennsylvania. His mom loved watching him swim. It was the one thing Buck was good at and was the only time that she actually seemed proud of him. Maddie loved to cheer him on, of course, and was always telling all her high school friends that her little brother was going to be an Olympic swimmer someday.
And that was Buck’s sole dream, really. It was Olympics or bust for him. At such a young age, he already knew that his place was in the pool, and he’d be hopelessly lost anywhere else.
His abnormally long arms had made him a great candidate for the 100-meter butterfly race, and that was exactly the one his coach had him most focused on today. They’d been training almost every day for nearly ten months now, and Buck’s times were pretty outstanding for a six-year-old boy, but that didn’t mean much when competing against nine- and ten-year-olds.
Against the odds, though, Buck clenched a first-place win as he flew down the lane and into the wall of the pool. His mother, sister, and coach could be heard screaming with absolute joy from the stands.
Later in the day, he swam in the 100 freestyle as well, and perhaps he’d gotten a little arrogant from his earlier win. He stood with one foot on the start block, checking to make sure his goggles and double caps were on correctly, making sure his trunks were properly tied as not to come off when he dived in. It was then that he made eye contact with a boy two lanes down. He was a little taller than Buck, skin a bit tanner. He had brown hair and brown eyes that Buck just barely caught a glimpse of before they disappeared behind his own goggles. Buck puffed out his chest a little as the other boy looked at him, trying to seem intimidating. The boy smirked and then climbed up on his block, getting into position for the race to start.
Buck came in a dreadful fourth as the brown-eyed boy took first. It was a little humiliating to say the least, but freestyle wasn’t exactly Buck’s best stroke, after all.
As the eight boys climbed out of the pool to make way for the next race, Buck couldn’t resist approaching the winner.
“Congratulations,” he said as he reached him, and Buck tried to make it sound genuine. His sister had given him many lectures about making sure to be a good sport, win or lose.
The other boy pulled his cap from his head and smiled brightly. “Thank you. You swam well out there too,” he offered his hand for Buck to shake, “I’m Eddie. Eddie Diaz.”
Buck took Eddie’s palm in his own. “I’m Evan Buckley. Nice to meet you, Eddie.”
***
July 2004
It was kind of cumbersome to drive to California from Hershey, so the three Buckleys had flown out to Stanford for the swimming Nationals this year. Buck was definitely nervous this time around, but it was for a different reason than he would have admitted to either his sister or his mom. It was the first time in five years that he’d be swimming against Eddie Diaz again.
The 2000 Nationals had been replaced by the Olympic trials, and so Buck obviously hadn’t attended those, being too young to qualify at seven years old.
By 2001, Eddie was eleven and had moved up to the “Eleven to Fourteen” age range. Of course, this meant that without Eddie there to best his efforts, Buck had been an undefeatable presence in the pool in all his races. He’d still be swimming the 100 butterfly and freestyle races, but his coach had also started training him for the 200-meter individual medley. The breaststroke was his weak point, but his skills in the other three legs propelled him enough to always finish on the podium.
Now though, Buck was in the “Eleven to Fourteen” age range himself, with Eddie being one of the oldest swimmers at fourteen. Buck had been determined all year not to let Eddie smoke him in the freestyle again once he made it to Stanford.
“Good to see you, Buckley,” Eddie greeted when they stood together in the room where swimmers waited to be called out for their races.
Buck had already performed his butterfly race, which Eddie never swam in, and then he got a glimpse of Eddie dominating the field in the 100-meter breaststroke, which only served to make him more nervous about going head-to-head with the older boy.
“You too, Diaz. Congrats on the win earlier.”
“You saw that?” Eddie asked, sounding quite flattered.
“Not much else to do around here but watch swim races,” Buck pointed out with humor in his tone.
Eddie laughed. “Fair enough. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your win earlier. I heard everyone talking about it though. They were calling you Butterfly Buckley.”
Buck grinned proudly. “I like the sound of that.”
One of the game coordinators started ushering them out to the pool. Eddie clasped his had for a moment against Buck’s lean shoulder. “Good luck out there,” he said.
“Good luck to you too. You’re going to need it,” Buck informed him before taking his block on lane five.
In the end, Buck took first in the freestyle, but Eddie later came back to beat him in the 200 individual medley.
***
June 2008
Buck was trying out for the US Olympic swim team. They’d drove to Omaha, Nebraska this time, Maddie almost not being able to come due to her overbearing new husband. Still, she’d insisted on being there for the big moment that her little brother was sure to become an Olympian. And what an incredible feat it would be to make the team at only fifteen. He could picture himself in the pools of Beijing, competing against swimmers from all around the world. It would be a dream come true.
Eddie showed up just as determined as Buck, it seemed. And, well, Buck was having a pretty shit day. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, but all his warm-up swims had felt, out of sync, off from his usual fluid rhythm. He tried not to let it stress him too much, but there was just so much riding on this moment for him. If he didn’t make it this year, the summer Olympics wouldn’t come around again until he was nineteen. That was so long to have to wait.
Ultimately, it was the nerves and the pressure that did him in. Buck came in just short of qualifying in all three of his races. He spent at least half an hour in the bathroom between each one vomiting his guts up.
Eddie, though, was an incredible force in the pool that day. He qualified in both the 100 breaststroke and 200 IM, and Buck couldn’t help but feel a surge of envy as he watched Eddie presented as one of the members of the Olympic team.
And the next month, if Buck watched the swimming events of Beijing almost religiously all for one particular head of brown hair, well, that was nobody’s business but his own. Eddie was kind of hot, okay? Buck couldn’t deny that. And watching him swim was almost as incredible as being the one swimming next to him.
When Eddie won his silver medal in the breaststroke, coming in right after a guy from Great Britain, Buck absolutely cheered like a madman in his bedroom, causing his parents to come barging in to see what the fuss was about.
***
June 2012
Buck was four years older now, and he’d like to believe that he’d gained some perspective. Since he’d graduated high school last year, he’d been basically living in the swimming pool, doing nothing but training for the London Olympic games. And this time, he wasn’t going to get to Omaha and choke. Only positive thinking was aloud in his mind this year. He would only envision all the ways it would go well and not spare a single thought to how it could all go wrong again. Visualization was key. He could run through every stroke, every last turn and breath like a well-worn groove in his brain. When he wasn’t swimming, he was thinking about it. And in his dreams, a chlorine pool was always featured, often including a brown-eyed boy named Eddie as well.
The thing was, Buck didn’t merely wish for himself to qualify. He wanted Eddie to qualify too. He hoped they’d be on the Olympic team together this time, and although a win would feel spectacular in its own right, it would feel all the sweeter if Eddie was right there beside him.
Buck had come to know the other man a lot better in recent years. They’d been competing against each other each year for the 2009, 2010, and 2011 Nationals. The two of them were continuously switching back and forth between first and second place each time they went head-to-head.
In the downtime of the swim meets, Buck learned that Eddie was from Texas. El Paso to be exact. He had older sisters and overbearing parents and some family out in Los Angeles. After high school, he’d tried to attend college alongside his training, but he admitted to Buck that school was never his strong suit and he’d dropped out by the time he turned twenty. Buck would listen to him talk with apt attention, taking in every word and then longing for the next time their beloved sport would bring them together again.
When Buck finally spotted Eddie at the trials this year, he immediately sprinted over and pulled the man in for a tight hug. Buck’s arms and shoulders could no longer be considered scrawny. He’d definitely bulked up a bit over the last couple of years.
“Ooof,” Eddie let out in surprise, but he happily squeezed Buck right back.
“Ready to be a two-time Olympian, Diaz?”
“You know it,” Eddie confirmed, “Gonna come with me this time?”
“I’ll be damned if I let you go to London without me,” Buck promised.
Buck had started to become pretty well-known in the swimming community lately. Of course, there was the spectacular moniker of Butterfly Buck that occasionally made some headlines, and then there was the fact that he now had one of the fastest starts in swimming history. Nobody in the US could get off the block as quickly as he could right now. And once he had that initial lead in the first fifteen meters, it was pretty difficult for anyone to keep up with him these days.
Eddie could though. And they both qualified in all three of their respective races. Buck coming in first in the butterfly and freestyle and Eddie getting first in breaststroke and the 200 IM. And they hugged each other again and cheered with absolute glee and laughed together like old friends during their television interviews, already daydreaming about days in London the next month.
Then, a mere week before the US swim team was set to fly across the pond, Eddie suddenly pulled out for unspecified personal reasons. His coach had given a vague statement to the press and said that Eddie would not be giving any interviews on the matter.
Some guy from Arizona filled Eddie’s spot on the team.
Buck searched Eddie’s name in the media, looking for any clue as to why he had abruptly given up his dream, just like that, but he remained clueless about it. He even tried stalking the man on social media, but it didn’t appear that Eddie had any social accounts, or if he did, they were under an alias.
In London, Buck went on to win two golds and silver. Yet, the victory felt a little hollow, the podium a little lonely, and the medals a little heavy around his neck.
***
April 2014
Buck had moved out to LA to start training with a new coach, one that was sure to help him broaden his strengths and possibly have the chance to medal in more than just three events in his future meets. He got himself a sleek, loft-style bachelor pad with his endorsement money, and on his first day of meeting the new coach who simply went by the nickname Red, the guy put him straight to work.
They worked on Buck’s lung capacity and his sprint speed, setting him up to win in the 50 freestyle, in which Buck planned to swim the entire length of the pool without taking a single breath. They also worked on his stamina so that the 200 IM would no longer be his weakest event, ensuring that the breaststroke wouldn’t ware him out in the second leg and have him lagging behind by the end of it. He also trained for the 200 freestyle and the 200 butterfly. If everything went according to plan, and the US coaches placed him on the three different men’s relay teams as well, Buck had the chance of winning eight medals total in the Rio games two years from now.
But first, he had to qualify.
He didn’t know anyone in LA besides Red and the other swimmers in the club where he practiced. This meant he spent most of his down time feeling incredibly lonely. He didn’t hear from Maddie much anymore. Her husband Doug seemed to consume all of her attention. His mother would call and check in, always looking for updates on his swimming times but never caring much about anything else in Buck’s life.
He couldn’t help thinking about Eddie Diaz quite frequently. The man had just completely vanished from the swimming world. He was nowhere to be found at the 2013 Nationals in Indianapolis. Buck would occasionally search his name on google, hoping for some news story with an update on the former Olympian. Unfortunately, his efforts never proved fruitful.
He met a woman named Abby who worked as a 911 dispatcher and had responded to Buck’s call when a fellow swimmer had gotten appendicitis mid-training session. Abby was in her thirties and way out of his league, but she liked how fun and energetic Buck could be at times, and she found his passion for swimming to be pretty admirable, so they clicked well initially.
And then Buck made the dumb move of falling in love with a woman who was ten years his senior and had no interest in sticking with a guy who was barely old enough to purchase alcohol. They eventually ended things when Abby took off to Oregon on a whim and Buck couldn’t leave his training behind to join her.
***
July 2016
To nobody’s surprise, Buck won eight medals in Rio.
Gold in all five of his individual races.
Gold in the 4x100 IM men’s relay as the butterfly leg.
Silver in both the 4x100 and 4x200 men’s freestyle relays as the final legs.
He tried to tell himself he was happy. He was living his dream after all. Spending his days in the pool, the only place that had ever felt like home. Blowing right past every goal he ever set for himself. He was a modern marvel, instantly becoming internationally famous and beloved in the hearts of many the second he started breaking numerous world records at his second Olympics.
Butterfly Buckley became the hook of every headline, and his number of endorsement deals exploded exponentially the second he got back to LA from Rio. Not a soul in America would see him and not recognize his face, especially with that signature birthmark above his eye. He was officially famous. At twenty-three, he now had eleven Olympic medals under his belt.
He thought about stopping, quitting while he was ahead. He always felt a little embarrassed for the swimmers that would age out of the sport rather than retire. Their bodies no longer youthful enough to keep up with the new talent. Yet, Buck had nothing else to do but swim. Swimming had been his entire life since he was six years old, and the thought of walking away from all that was terrifying.
He told Red they’d continue to train for Tokyo in four years.
***
December 2018
It was 2 am and Buck was just now driving home from the training pool. He’d been putting in extra hours, working tirelessly on the numerous events he planned to win gold in once again. His muscles were limp with exertion now and his eyelids so heavy he could barely hold them open, but he was only a few minutes away from his loft.
Until a truck blasted right through a red light and t-boned his Jeep on the driver’s side. Buck’s memory grew hazy after that, but he knew that the pain he felt in his trapped left leg was the worst thing he’d ever experienced in his life.
He blearily remembered the sound of sirens and the grinding of metal as a team of firefighters worked to pull him out. He remembered a kind looking fire captain who said, “I’m Bobby. What’s your name?” as he tried to keep Buck distracted from the blinding pain. He recalled two paramedics named Hen and Chimney who kept him stable on his way to the hospital.
Then, the only thing he felt was defeat.
Less than two years out from the next Olympic games and he had a completely busted leg that would be in a damned cast until next spring.
His accident had been all over the news.
Olympic Swimmer Likely to Never Compete Again
Butterfly Buckley Defeated at Last
Dreams for Tokyo 2020 Crushed
The Car Accident that Ruined a Career
Perhaps it was because of these headlines, combined with his stubbornness, that Buck felt so compelled to prove everyone wrong and still make the US swimming team for Tokyo.
He suffered through several surgeries, many long discussions with his doctors and Red, and they finally decided that he would go back to his original three races of the 100 fly, 100 freestyle, and 200 medley to try to qualify for at least one of those in a year and a half.
As soon as Buck’s cast came off, he was living in the pool again. His old record-breaking start time had been dented. With his now busted leg, he couldn’t get off the block with nearly as much power anymore. Still, he persisted.
***
June 2020
Buck made the headlines once again when he showed up in Omaha, Nebraska for the fourth time to compete in the trials. Nobody could believe that he’d come back from that severe of an injury.
And despite only qualifying in a single race, his familiar 100-meter fly, the cheers pouring out in congratulations were music to his ears.
And when he placed third, winning a single bronze medal in Tokyo, it was the most cherished moment of Buck’s life. He clung to that bronze disc with far more pride than he held for any of the gold he’d obtained in Rio. The fact that he’d come back through such hardship and still managed a place on the podium… well, it was more than Buck had ever believed himself capable of.
He was now content to retire.
***
September 2020
Two months into retirement and Buck was bored as hell. What was there to life outside of swimming? He’d yet to find it.
The one good thing he had going for him was that Maddie had showed up unannounced last month and was now living on his couch. He’d missed his sister so much, and it was nice to finally have a familiar face with him in California.
Still, Maddie already had her own life here, a job as a 911 dispatcher funnily enough, and Buck was left feeling listless in the spaces between his handful of meetings for brand deals.
He’d taken up a new hobby to fill his time. Okay, well, technically he wasn’t sure if it could be considered new because it was still swimming… but it was open-water swimming. Like in the ocean! Which was an entirely different thing to swimming in a chlorinated pool.
The sea was rough and unforgiving, constantly putting up a fight against Buck’s tired arms, but he loved it all the same. Which was exactly why he found himself pushing against the tides of the Santa Monica shore on this beautiful day. Maddie had gone in for a shift, and Buck hadn’t been able to stand being alone in his loft for longer than five minutes before he grabbed his bag of swim gear and jumped into his Jeep (it was a new one he’d bought after the car accident had totaled his old one).
It was probably 45 minutes into his swim that he felt a strange sort of sensation from the water. He always remained pretty close to the beach for safety reasons, but now, the water was suddenly trying to pull him farther out with a strong force. He turned right for the shore and powered through his strokes as fast as he could, trying to reach land before he got carried out into a dangerous area.
Buck’s feet touched sand soon, and once he’d gathered his bearings, he turned to look out at the waves and found that they were still receding, the water pulling away from the beach in a way that was incredibly abnormal. It left parts of the ocean floor completely exposed. Beyond that, a giant wall of a wave seemed to be forming on the horizon.
Tsunami, Buck thought briefly before he was taking off at a dead run in the opposite direction, hollering to anyone around that they needed to get far away from the beach.
The only other thought Buck had before the water hit him was, I’m gonna have to buy a new Jeep. Again.
***
It felt like he was underwater for ages. Luckily, his lung capacity was still far above that of an average person. He was vaguely aware of some scrapes and bumps along his body as the water pushed him against debris of all kinds. After what seemed like eons had passed, Buck’s head managed to breach the water’s surface.
The current was insanely fast, pushing Buck through the flooded streets of the seaside city. It was all he could do to stay afloat and avoid getting impaled on anything sharp in the water. He kept an eye out for anything tall and sturdy enough for him to climb up and wait out anymore waves, but he didn’t seem to be having much luck.
A few moments passed. Then, he heard the faint screams of a child. Buck turned his head around wildly, looking for the source. The yells kept coming, and at last he spotted a young boy with glasses, clutching to a telephone pole.
“Dad! Where are you? Dad, please! I can’t hold on much longer.”
Buck inhaled deeply and plowed ahead straight for the boy, trying his hardest to reach him before his grip slipped away.
“Just hang on a second, buddy! I’m coming to get you!” he called out once he was almost to him.
“Where’s my dad?! Have you seen him?!”
Buck clutched the pole and wrapped his other arm around the kid. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen anyone else besides you. But I’ll help you look for your dad, okay?”
The boy nodded and behind his red glasses, Buck could make out the frightened look in his eyes.
“I’m Buck. What’s your name?”
“Christopher.”
“Okay, Christopher. I think I can make out the top of a firetruck a few blocks away. We’re gonna let go of this pole, and I’m gonna hold onto you while I swim us over to the truck. We should be safe once we get to the top of it.”
“I’m scared, Buck.”
“I know, kid, but I promise I won’t let go of you. Do you trust me?”
Christopher nodded.
***
Buck managed to get them up on the truck safely, and then they began the task of carefully watching the water for any other survivors, especially ones that might be Christopher’s missing father.
“He’s a firefighter,” the boy said at some point.
“Your dad?” Buck asked.
“Yeah. This isn’t his truck though. He works at the 118, but he was off work today and he took me to the pier as a treat. We were having so much fun playing games and eating cotton candy. And then the water just… disappeared.”
“I’m sorry, buddy. I know that must have been really scary. But if you’re dad’s a firefighter, then I’m sure he knows exactly what to do in a situation like this. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
“Oh, I know he’s okay,” the kid replied defiantly.
“Yeah?”
“He’s a really great swimmer. The best in the world. He’s never afraid of water… even this much of it.”
Buck offered a faint smile.
“I just wish he were here,” Christopher added.
“We’ll keep looking until we’ve found him,” Buck promised.
***
By the time the water had receded enough for them to move on foot, a whole group of over twenty people had gathered on top of the firetruck. It was getting late in the evening then, the sun approaching the west horizon, and Buck situated Christopher snuggly against his back as he began trekking through the ankle-deep water among the city blocks.
Another forty-five minutes passed before he came across someone who mentioned a field hospital had been set up and was the main place the rescuers were working out of. Buck got directions and took off to it immediately, hoping beyond hope that whoever this kid’s father was, he’d be there searching for his son.
Once they came to the medical tent, Buck gave the attendant his full name and then asked Christopher what his last name was, so that it could be put on the list of survivors.
“Diaz. Christopher Diaz,” he told them. Buck furrowed his brow at the familiar last name. He couldn’t dwell on it though. Diaz was a pretty common last name, and it didn’t necessarily mean anything.
The lady with the clipboard jotted their names down and guided them in the direction of a medic who would check them over for any injuries that needed immediate treatment.
Buck sat Christopher down on a cot and stood near him while a paramedic got to work checking his vitals and having him drink some fresh water.
The medical tent was open at the front, so it was easy for Buck to keep an eye out for anyone searching for a little boy. He glanced back at Christopher as the medic said he looked completely healthy, and Buck felt a huge surge of relief at that. Despite still not having found his father, at least he had managed to keep the kid safe.
That’s when he heard a sort of commotion from just outside.
“What are you doing here?” a woman’s voice said. Buck strained his neck to see a paramedic with her back turned to him, and it seemed like a man was standing on her other side, but the way they were positioned had Buck’s view of him mostly blocked.
“We were at the pier, Hen,” the man’s voice said, and it sounded absolutely wrecked.
“You were there? Jesus, Eddie.” Buck’s ears perked up at that name. “Are you okay?” the woman went on, “Where’s Christopher?”
“I lost him, Hen.”
Buck turned to Christopher. “I’ll be right back, okay? Stay right here with this nice medic.”
“We got separated when the first wave hit. I’ve been looking all day but can’t find him anywhere.”
Buck quickly ducked out of the tent and jogged over to the pair. “You’re looking for Christopher Diaz?” he called out once he was where they could see him.
The man’s sorrowful eyes finally focused on him with surprise, and Buck could barely believe that it was the same man who’d disappeared from his life way back in 2012. Eddie Diaz.
“Buck?” Eddie muttered in confusion, clearly a little delirious and probably convinced he was hallucinating his old swim competitor.
“Eddie, your son Christopher is right inside that med tent. He’s perfectly fine, I promise.”
“Oh thank god,” Eddie said then as he collapsed to his knees in relief. The paramedic, Hen, and Buck both reached for him to pull him up.
“Come on, Eddie. Let’s go see Chris and get you checked out as well,” Hen told him.
***
Christopher had been beyond thrilled when Buck brought his father over to his cot.
“Buck! You found him!”
“I promised I would, didn’t I, kiddo?”
Eddie pulled Christopher into his lap and clung to him for dear life. “I’m so glad you’re okay, mijo. I was so worried.”
“I was worried about you too,” the kid whispered.
Buck was helpless to do anything but hang back with Hen and stand there watching them, suddenly realizing exactly why Eddie had given up his swimming career. Buck would have given it all up as well for a kid that great.
“Hey, you’re the famous swimmer we pulled out of that car wreck a few years back, right?” Hen said to him in the silence that stretched on as Eddie hugged his son.
Recognition dawned on him then. “Yeah, you were with me in the back of the ambulance. Sorry, my memory of that night is still a little hazy.”
“That’s understandable. We were rooting for you in Tokyo by the way. We all watched your bronze win live at the station.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Although Eddie never mentioned that you two know each other?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say we know each other anymore,” Buck corrected awkwardly, “but we used to swim together a long time ago.”
“Oh yeah, Mr. Silver Medal over there is pretty tight-lipped about his Olympic days.”
“So he’s a firefighter now, huh?”
“Yeah, moved here from El Paso about four years ago. He was off the night you had your accident. Thought we were making it up when we told him about it the next day until he saw the news.”
Buck chewed on his bottom lip. Eddie had known they were in the same city and had still never bothered to reach out and catch up? It made Buck feel a little dejected.
The other paramedic finally cleared Eddie but suggested that they all make appointments with their primary care doctors for checkups within the next couple days. Eddie stood from the cot, still clutching Christopher in his arms.
“Thank you,” he said, “Christopher told me about how you pulled him out of the water. You saved him, and I’m so grateful, Buck.”
“All that swim training had to pay off sometime, right?” Buck attempted to joke, “but uh… no worries, really. I would have done it for anyone I came across who needed help. I’m just happy you two were reunited.”
“Me too,” Eddie agreed.
***
The 118 offered to give them both a ride home in their engine, and Buck fidgeted awkwardly with his hands as he sat next to Eddie in the back of the truck. The fact that he was now sitting this close to the very same man that Buck had spent a better part of the last eight years wondering about was just absolutely absurd. Yet, here he was. Same brown hair, same gorgeous brown eyes. An LA firefighter, and with an adorable son.
Buck was pretty speechless, honestly.
But he couldn’t bear to let the moment pass. So, when the engine pulled up in front of Eddie’s house and the man began helping Christopher down from the truck, Buck reached out and clutched at Eddie’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.
“Do you think we could talk sometime? Catch up?”
Eddie hesitated for a moment, then gave in, “Sure, Buck. Look, I’ve gotta get Chris inside, but uh, Hen can give you my number before they drop you off.”
Hen nodded in confirmation.
And then he was gone, and thanks to the friendly paramedic, Buck now had ten new digits to cling to and obsess over, wondering how long it would be before he grew brave enough to use them.